Monday, January 18, 2010

Popcorn for dinner

Ya know...if I hear one more person say, "But you're eating for two!" I am going to pitch a fit. K, seriously? Two? The other person I am eating for is barely a pound. Is that really considered TWO? I mean, come on. If I was eating for two, I'd give birth to an elephant. Really, people. When someone is pregnant, they are not eating for two. They are eating for one, plus like an eighth at the most. I'm not changing my diet to include frivolous binges that are only going to my hips, not the little nugget inside. I really don't want a crane to take me to the hospital to give birth. Good Lord, I'm having popcorn for dinner.

Saturday, January 16, 2010

Frickin contractions

So off I went to Mary Birch, yet again. I started feeling contractions and pre-term labor signs a few days ago, but pretended they weren't there. I mean, come on. I KNEW what was going to happen if I called the doc. "Yeah, why don't you head on over to triage at Mary Birch." And that's exactly what they told me. And boy did I call it. Monitor, check. Turb shot, check. More contractions and another turb shot, check. You're not doing so well, we're going to have to admit you, check. Same old song and dance. I knew it. That's why I put it off. But my therapist got the better of me. "Just call," she says. You kind of NEED to. So I did.

But thankfully, my stay was short-lived and only 24 hours long this time. And THANKFULLY this time I have competent doctors taking care of me. Not too aggressive treatment this time, they say. Since in the past, you carried to term. God bless them. So now I am back home in my own bed, with my own bathroom, a toothbrush, and my sanity. Pretty important these days. Oh yes, and my little monkey is happy too of course.

Off to a good night's sleep without the high-pitched beep of an IV to wake me up at 3am. Yesss...

Thursday, January 14, 2010

I know, I'm crazy

It seems like I was happy to find out I was pregnant. Maybe it was a fa├žade to trick myself into believing it. This pregnancy was definitely a surprise, but I at least thought I was happy about it. But now at 5 months, I really just hate it. Not the baby, the pregnancy. Everywhere in my body hurts. Yes, even there. I take antidepressants just to make it through the day and still, I feel more like I'm carrying a burden than the joy so many other women feel during this time. I just want it to be over and done with. Over and done with so I can start going crazy during midnight feedings and endless nights without sleep and too many tears to count. Why the hell am I doing this again?