Tornado S’s Second Ultrasound

I’m sixteen weeks along.  And I remember what defined my sixteenth week along with Tornado S.  It was his second ultrasound.

I made chicken fried rice for dinner one night because The Husband had brought home a rotisserie chicken home the night before that we didn’t finish.  Tornado E loved fried rice; it was one of the few things he would eat with vegetables.  But that night he picked out all the chicken, refusing to eat it.  Weird.

Back then, I hadn’t figured out DVD time, so Tornado E would hang on me demanding my attention.  This meant the kitchen went unclean, the food left out, and, of course, I hadn’t figured out to clean as I cooked.  The kitchen was a disaster, but at least I was spending quality time with my son.

I turned on our gas fireplace and played with Tornado E on the ground.  The Husband didn’t return my calls, so I had no idea when he would be home.

About Tornado E’s bedtime, I vomited.  Barely making it to the bathroom.  Weird.  My morning sickness always hit in the morning, unless I ate too much for dinner and went to bed right away.  My morning sickness always let me know with plenty of time to hit the toilet.

As I placed Tornado E in his crib, I nearly vomited on him.  Weird again because I usually never vomit twice on the same day.  I finish tucking Tornado E in bed, beginning to worry.

I went downstairs to clean.  I wasn’t feeling right.  It was too hot.  So I went to turn down off the fire, but Tornado E had made off with the gas key.  I couldn’t find it anywhere.  I tried to use priers to turn it, but I just didn’t have the strength.  I ran and vomited again.

This time I dialed The Husband over and over until he answered his phone.  Only his administration assistant answered.  And I knew he was at the bar with his employees.


Me: Hey.  I’m busy taking care of Tornado E in the day.  Is The Husband there?  I need to speak to him.


Me: Yeah.  I know.  But really, I need to speak to The Husband.  Now.


Me: Admin.  Please hand the phone to The Husband.  NOW.


Me: Fine.  Tell The Husband to call me as soon as he can.  Alright?  Can you do that, Admin?  Can you tell The Husband to call me right away, Admin?


Me: Right.


God, I hate dealing with drunks.  If The Husband didn’t call me- I went and vomited again.  Now I was really scared.

I went into the kitchen to clean up, to take my mind off of things.  But as I looked at the chicken carcass, the dirty dishes, the vegetable trimmings, I got sick to my stomach again.  I turned around and ran into the office, digging through my stack of pregnancy pamphlets the doctor’s office gave me.  I pulled out the one that told me what were emergency symptoms or not.

Vomiting.  Vomiting.  Vomiting.  Here.  “If you vomit more than four times an hour, go to the emergency room immediately.”  Well, it’s been four times in two hours, so maybe I’m safe.  Oh wait-

Make that five times in two hours.

I called The Husband again, getting his voice mail.  Again.

Fine.  I’ll take Tornado E and go with out him.  Crap.  I had to wash his car seat today because he spilled juice all over it.  I pulled it out of the washer and threw it in the dryer.  Chanting cuss words all the way.

I vomited again, getting it in my hair and on my clothes.  I turned on the shower, waited for the warmth and walked in.  I cried as I peeled off my clothes, as I washed my hair, as I washed my body, wondering what was wrong with me.  Why was I all alone?  I got out of the shower and got dressed.  I felt the vibration of the garage door.  THANK GOD!

I rushed out of the room to hear Admin’s drunk voice.  I turned around and slammed the door.  Are you f-ing kidding me?

A minute later the door opened.

Admin came bouncing in and threw herself at me in a bear hug.  I’m going to kill her.

Admin: FAE!!! You’re not mad at me!  Are you?!

She gave me a pout.  I took a deep breathe.  I was to weak to kill her.

Me: No.  (breath) But I’m sick.  I need to go to bed.  I need to talk to my husband.

Admin: Oh FAE!  You can’t be sick!  You’re pregnant!  Get some rest!  I’ll get The Husband!

She bounded at the room, and I was eternally grateful I didn’t own a gun.

Minutes passed.  No husband.  I turned off the lights.  The door opened.  The Husband swayed into the room.  F me.  I am going to kill someone!

Me: Did you drive?

So help me God, if you drove, I will kill you right now.  Screw the need of a father figure for the kids.

The Husband: No!  We got a ride.

Breathe.  Calm down.

Me: Where were you?

Perfect, Fae.  Let’s interrogate him while he’s drunk and you’re pissed.

The Husband: We went out for a beer.

Me: More than one beer.  Why didn’t you call back?

The Husband: Because Admin answered the phone.

Me: Did you think that when I called your phone, that I might just want to talk to you.

The Husband: Admin didn’t tell me you wanted to talk to me.


Me: Why didn’t you come up sooner?  Something is wrong.

The Husband: I was hungry.  I ate the fried rice.

Oh God!  The Fried Rice!  It was poisoned.  I have food poisoning!  Crap!

Me: Oh, crap!  I think there’s something wrong with the rice.  I think I have food poisoning.

The Husband: Why didn’t you tell me earlier?

Me: When?  When you didn’t answer the dozen times I called?  When you didn’t call me back after Admin answered?  When you didn’t run upstairs to see me when you got home?  When was I supposed to tell you?

The Husband: I’m sleeping in the other room.


He stormed out.  I went to bed.  Then I jumped up to vomit.  I needed to go to the hospital.

I went down stairs where the fire was still roaring, the kitchen was still a disaster, and now the Admin was snoring on the couch.  I pulled out the almost dried car seat cover and struggled to put it on.  I ran to vomit again.  I heard The Husband vomiting in the other bathroom.  I waited for him.

Me: I have to go to the hospital.

The Husband: Ok.  Let me know how it goes.

He headed to our bedroom.  The son of a-  Wait.  He can’t drive.  I have to drive.  I can’t show up with a drunk, food poisoned husband and a toddler.  Fine.  I picked Tornado E up from the crib and placed him on my side of the bed.  I punched The Husband awake.

The Husband: Wha-

Me: I’m going to the hospital.  I’m pregnant with food poisoning.  I’m putting Tornado E in bed with you.  Please comfort him if he wakes up.

With that I left.

The emergency room was quite empty, which surprised me as the last time I was at an emergency room at night it was crowded.  Granted this was a Tuesday, and the last time was Sunday night.

I had a great nurse that diagnosed me quickly and stuck me with an IV to pump liquids back into me.  It wasn’t long before I was chattering, and he had to run and find extra blankets for me.  He brought out the little machine to get Tornado S’s heartbeat.  He couldn’t panic.  After looking for the sound for five minutes, the nurse started to worry.

Nurse: Don’t panic.  You’re not that far along, so it’s a little hard to find.  I’ll schedule an ultrasound for you.  Don’t worry.

I smile.

Me: I’m not worry.  How often to do you get a chance to use that thing in here, any ways?

He smiled back.

Nurse: Not often.

He wheeled me in to get my ultrasound.  It turned out everything was fine.  Though they kept me there until I went through two bags of fluids.  It was 5am by the time they let me leave.

As I got dressed, I had to sudden urge to vomit again.  I ran to the bathroom and purged the last of whatever was in my stomach.  I also peed my pants.  Great.  I snuck back into my room and waited to catch my nurse.  He came minutes later.

Me: Hey, um, is there a phone I can use to call my husband?

Nurse: Sure.  Sure.

Me: Um, yeah, I peed my pants when I vomited, and I need him to bring me another pair.

Nurse: Oh.  OH!  Ok, hold on.  I can get you a pair!

He ran off.  Well, he was a little squeamish for being a nurse.  He returned with a pair of scrubs, and I thanked him from the bottom of my heart.  They turned out to be the most comfortable pants I have ever owned, and I loved them.

So I left with a prescription, new pants, and instructions to rest all day.  Hahaha.  I had a toddler waiting at home that would be up in two hours.

I went home to catch a nap, then got up to go to the pharmacy and the grocery store to grab some fluids.  I had left Tornado E with breakfast and cartoons as The Husband slept like a hibernating bear.  I laid on the couch all morning watching cartoons with Tornado E.  About noon, I called a friend to see if she could take Tornado E to the park after his nap, so that I could sleep all afternoon.  Tornado E’s naptime was a blessing.  My friend picked up Tornado E and willingly took him to the park.  As I slept, The Husband woke feeling great.  And guilty.  He scrubbed the kitchen until it sparkled.  I can count on one hand how many times he’s done that in our marriage.  A friend called him out on it too because as the guy said, “The Husband knew he was in the dog house.”

And the stupid key, we didn’t find it for two weeks.  I had to go hunt one down to buy, which took three days.  And just so you don’t think I’m the world’s worst cook by poisoning my family, my doctor assured me it must have been the chicken wasn’t cooked right and that we didn’t eat the undercooked meat next to the bone until I pulled it off and stuck it in the fried rice.  We never bought chicken from that store again.

While those hours rank up there as one of my worst, at least I got a great pair of pants out of it.

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9 Responses to “Tornado S’s Second Ultrasound”

  1. Kasha Says:

    Great , great, great blog! What a crazy experience. Thank you for sharing and making me feel like I am human too. Glad you are feeling better!

  2. beth aka confusedhomemaker Says:

    Ok I want to hug you right now! That sucks, even if you did get comfy pants it’s scarey to feel alone like that especially when pregnant. Something about pregnancy can make you feel even more vulnerable, must be the whole other human being growing inside you thing.

  3. Gibby Says:

    OMG, Fae, I felt like I was right there vomiting with you! You poor thing. Whatever you do, don’t eat any rotisserie chicken while preggers with number three. I have a feeling it wouldn’t turn out any better this time around…

  4. TheKitchenWitch Says:

    Cringing at this story! Ugh!!!!!!

    And if it makes you feel any better, when you vomit REALLY hard, it’s totally normal to pee your pants. At least that’s what I tell myself, because I do it, too!

  5. Evenshine Says:

    Great story. Really! Amazing that you haven’t blocked it out completely, as I have most of my horrendous vomiting sessions…

  6. insider53 Says:

    I hate that crappy assistant, did she at least get sick too. You poor thing, this sounded awful. Scrubs are the best but so not worth this.

  7. Not Afraid To Use It Says:

    I hope he did more than just clean the kitchen because “let me know how it goes” is more that a one-time cleaning offense. Glad you are feeling better, though.

  8. faemom Says:

    Kasha~ Thanks. I try to make people feel himan.
    beth~ After that, I knew I could deliver the kid on my own. Thankfully, The Husband was willing to go on that trip.
    Gibby~ I realized that was the only time I ate chicken the whole pregnancy with Sean. I’ll buy my rotissirie chicken at Costco, where my baby brother assured me they have to test each and every chicken for doneness. But then again . . .
    TKW~ I love that reasoning. Because this pregnancy, I’ve peed everytime I vomited, which meant we did NOT leave the house in the morning.
    Evenshine~ I think I remember it to use for a guilt trip later on.
    insider~ Nope. But I know she had a huge hangover and had to walk to work the next morning.
    NATUI~ I totally need to blog stalk you. Let’s just say since it happened in December, it was a good Christmas for me.

  9. theycallmejane Says:

    I was glued to the computer screen with this story. And now (like you, I’m sure!) I’m so glad it’s over. What a yucky experience – but it certainly made for a great blog post. Well told!

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