In March 2015, we decided to go on one last trip before the baby arrived, so we planned a quick trip to NYC over Spring Break. I was tired and uncomfortable being in the car for so long, but we survived. We intended on making it a bit of a Food Network/Cooking Channel tour of NYC, planning to stop at a bunch of places we’d seen on shows like Unique Eats and The Best Thing I Ever Ate.
We ended up walking a little ways, and I had this uncomfortable feeling in my side. It didn’t feel like it could be contractions (and I wasn’t due until May) but it HURT. It felt like a cramp or like I pulled a muscle. We kept on walking and eating, though.
We found Porchetta in the East Village and split a sandwich. We had BBQ potato chips at Blue Smoke. I had Zarbees cough syrup outside of Bouchon by the Rock. (I was getting over the flu and was still coughing like crazy; I needed something to help with the cough that was safe for the baby.) We went to the Top of the Rock and took a ton of pictures.
Instead of walking back to our hotel, we took a cab. Getting in and out was pure misery. Whatever I’d done to my body, I was in serious pain. I don’t even remember where we went or what we did for dinner. I was cranky and tired and sore and 30-something weeks pregnant.
We did a nighttime bus tour of NYC – the perfect way for us to see some sights without having to walk everywhere. We sat up on top of the bus for awhile, but it started to get pretty chilly. (Plus, there were a couple times where it seemed like we were going to get nailed with traffic lights.) When we stopped for a bathroom break, we moved down to the inside of the bus. I didn’t care that I couldn’t see out the window. I just wanted to go back to the hotel and lie down, and I hated that I wasn’t a very great travel companion.
The next day, when I got out of bed, I couldn’t lie back down. There was no position that I could get myself into that was comfortable. Tommy suggested cutting the trip short and heading home that evening. I felt bad, but decided that it was probably the best thing. I was starting to wonder if something was really wrong. The pain in my side/back was getting to be nonstop.
We went down to Times Square to see about getting tickets to a matinee on Broadway. Let me tell you, New Yorkers are super nice to pregnant ladies. We were at the ticket stand and one of the security guards/ushers came up to us in line. He asked me if I was pregnant. (Obviously, buddy, do you SEE this belly?) When I nodded, exasperated, he lifted the rope and ushered me right up to the ticket window. We got tickets for the matinee of the Rockettes’ Springtime Spectacular, grabbed a cab, and made our way to Radio City Music Hall. I sat through the performance with tears in my eyes – from the pain in my side and the kicks from the baby, and from realizing that I was doing something that my grandma had always talked about wanting to do when I was little. She never made it to see the Rockettes live, so doing something she would have enjoyed made me pretty emotional.
I was glad to be heading home, though. I couldn’t wait to get home and get propped up on the couch and under a blanket. We drove through the evening, stopping somewhere for Waffle House around ten p.m. I tried to sleep in the car, but getting comfortable was impossible. I was relieved when we made it home.
In the morning, still hurting, I decided it was time to suck it up and go to the walk-in clinic and find out what was wrong. I was afraid there was something going on with the baby. I lifted my arms and stretched while the doctor pressed on my back and up and down my side, and – OWWWWW!
All the pain that I’d been feeling was one or two broken ribs.
Remember how I’d said I was getting over the flu? I’d been doing a lot of coughing, and that’s likely what caused the fracture. Not to mention the large baby I was carrying who loved to kick and poke me in the ribs and lungs.
So, yeah, what was supposed to be a relaxing weekend in NYC before the baby came ended up being a painful trip cut short due to broken ribs!