So I woke up this morning just as the alarm was going off, Petra by my side )of course). I sat up, took in the Channel 7 weather and gave Petra a nice long squeeze. I forced myself out of bed, went into P's room and came back with her clothes so Natche could get her ready.
And that's when I saw it. The BRIGHT RED blood on the bed. Right where it wasn't supposed to be. Now understand, it wasn't just a little dab; this blood appeared to be some significant spotting.
So I did as any pregnant lady would and I *RAN* to the bathroom, thinking the entire time, "What do I do? What do I do?" and, "This REALLY isn't good," and finally, "Oh shit". I mean, I'm eight months pregnant. That kind of blood is a really, really bad sign, right?
And that's when I saw it. The big blood stain on my right pajama pant. Which, when removed revealed a massive cut on my leg. Nothing more. It didn't hurt and I had no IDEA I was bleeding as heavily as I was. But that's what it was. A nasty cut. And because I sat up in bed with my legs folded underneath me....well, now you know why the blood was where it was.
People! I. almost. had. a. heart. attack. This pregnancy is just too difficult. Can I really still have five weeks left?
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