BabyMail is exciting stuff. We got some more a few nights ago, part deux of an internet auntie’s gift was the dust ruffle and crib sheets I’d registered for.  Perfect timing, since we JUST got the mattress, and I was so excited to get the ruffle on (there’s a phrase I never thought I’d use) that I tried to do it myself, which, not so much. Balancing a crib mattress on one’s head, while leaning (or trying to lean) into the crib, at 7 months pregnant, to arrange the ruffle didn’t work so much. I’ll need assistance to finish the job, but I have the front part straightened out right!  Looking at the crib, though, it’s so… weird.  Aside from the weirdness of the crib existing itself, and why we have it, and all of that, it’s the crib the internet built. No, really. Sheets and dust ruffle from B, sleep positioner and blanket (WITH SILKIE!) from KB, fabric waiting to be stitched into a quilt and bumper cover was purchased with the generous handoff of Joann coupons from J. (Which, HA! Now that I think of it, who ELSE would have sent those to me?) Not to mention the receiving blankets, onesies, sweet little toys, practical supplies, etc, that are in boxes waiting to be used, all from people I met because of the internet. There is more in that backroom from y’all than there is from anyone ELSE at this point. How weird and cool is that?  I’m so thankful for the friendships I’ve made over the 5+ years I’ve been interacting with most of these people, and am totally humbled by their generosity.

My shower invites went out, and I invited five friends, and felt so odd ‘only’ having five friends to invite. (And one of them isn’t that close, but a former coworker that would help ease the weirdness for Deb, who, as you remember, my SIL complained about when goodniece had her as a teacher..) But then, I look around the (total clusterfuck, currently) of a baby room and am reminded that I have some GREAT friends, they are just far away, and even despite their distance, they are still part of this whole experience for me. It’s really quite amazing. So, hey. The official word is in the mail, but thanks. Even those that don’t send STUFF, but support us through the comments and email and kind thoughts, thanks. It’s not about STUFF, in the end. The stuff I’ve received is lovely, for sure, but it truly is the thought behind it that really amazes me.

1) I finally made a damn list. My brain never needed lists before, but now it does. Not only did I make a list, I managed to get 25% of it done yesterday. (Uh, but all school related.)

2) My advisor (academic, not jesus-y) complimented me on my discussion points in seminar, and said "I can tell you were a great teacher." that was pretty cool, especially since I feel like such a freaking loser for having everything so screwed up this semester.

3) She also pointed me to a job that she’d just sent over the listserv, and when I checked it out, GODDAMN, if only it was up for grabs 6 months from now. It’s at primarysource.org, part-time, flex, using both of my degrees, DOWNTOWN (as in DOWNTOWN HERE, not downtown Portland, which seems odd for there to be such a job in my city), and starting (for 20 hrs a week) is 15-20k. (To compare, starting for F/T teachers around here is generaly less than 25k.) Oh, and my advisor knows the hiring person really well, too. (You know, small town, all of that.)  Seriously, if it was in SIX MONTHS, I would be all over that job. But I just can’t apply for it at this point. It’s doing professional dev with teachers, so I imagine it would be lots of summer inservices and such, and  just… if it was posted in 6 months! Sigh. (It did make me feel good to be tipped off to that, though, in the "hey, check the listserv.."  I saw her in class and said what a GREAT job it sounded like, and how bummed I was at the timing, and she was like "yeah, I totally thought of you for that.") I mean, I don’t know that they’d find my "passion for world history" up to par, but I’m not AVERSE to world history (and love learning about different cultures — hi p.phone! — and traveling and reading and all of that…) but maybe I’d need more tiki heads in my house or something. ANyway.

4)  The Violent Femmes are playing at the mountain this month! Whoo! (For those that may not know, my license plate for ~ 10 years said "VLNT-FEM." I mean, it started when I was 18, and then became an easy way to be recognized, more than once I had an old friend track me down in some place by saying "I saw your car on the street!" When I started teaching, I gave it up. Sigh. Grownups.) I’ve seen them twice, in 94 and in… 97? Maybe? I lived on Court street at the time, so between 96-99, anyway.  They must be so old looking now. And by virtue of that, won’t be surprised by the very pregnant 30 year old drinking ginger ale in the crowd, right?

Webought a crib mattress this weekend.  Just the cheap $50 one from Target, but it was weird. We were so totally Expectant Parents in the store, with me pushing the cart and Dave holding the mattress and helping me navigate. There was another couple there doing similar maneuvers, but with 2 Graco boxes instead of a mattress.

We put it in the crib, which meant pulling out the boxes of stuff that have been being stored in the crib, and suddenly, the crib looks like a bed for a BABYinstead of just a big storage unit.  When we went to put it in, there was a split at one of the side seams, but from what I understand, those are inevitable on a cheap crib mattress, so we just patched it up with duct tape. I hd gotten a matress pad anyway, vinyl backed but topped with cloth-diaper material, so it’s absorbent and not so crunch crunch crunch plasticy sounding, and i figure between the duct tape and pad and mattress placement, it will be fine. (Not to mention, who the hell knows when the kid will end up in the crib anyway, since our plans are to keep it in our room until it no longer works for us. It’s kind of like a backup/beard crib to keep people from questioning EVERY damn decision we make.)  I tried to make some headway on the room, but the more I DO the more clusterfucked it seems to look. It really wouldn’t be that much to get it picked up and set up, but I find it totally overwhelming.  Dave’s been working on the hallway, and will put together the changing table when there’s a place to put it up there, so in themeantime there’s stuff that will go ON the changing table in a pile, and there’s a rubbermaid of clothes and fitted diapers and liners that need to be prewashed, eventually, which will probably happen after the shower. But I’d like it to look babyish before the shower, since people will probably ask to see the room, right? Argh.

I did get the dishes done, finally, but everything just seems SO. OVER. WHELMING. right now. School, totally. The room. Getting dishes done. EVERYTHING. I feel all twisted up with school, which is SO STUPID. I mean, this is like the BEST time to be in school full time, but also? Kind of the worst. Best, because I have a pretty good schedule, it’s getting paid for, it’s VERY low-energy work, workwise. Worst, because I feel like my brain is being run through a juicer, and I just keep forgetting shit! Like, projects. SoI get behind — hell, at my last Tuesday class, i thought I was being SO GOOD and dropboxing the stuff I’d done at the school computer (but in a totally differnt building/lab than the one i work in) to sort through and then submit as projects, because I DID IT in class — and I opened them up, and it’s the wrong stuff, like I totally selected the wrong files to ‘bringhome’ and clean up and submit. Sigh. I just need to DO. IT. Sit down, and do it. It’s SO STUPID. I need to make a list, or something, and hammer through, and find someplace I don’t get wireless access, honestly.  I don’t have classes next week, so my goal is GET CAUGHT UP. Dammit.

I had an OB appt yesterday, which was fine — the same old,same old. She asked me about the sugar thing, and while I have been able to jack it up there (granted, I was trying to see what would do it, and shitloads of sugar or potatoes seem to be the best way to getit over 120) she seemed more concerned with my waking numbers, which are all 75-85, which is well under the threshold of 95, and she seemed good with that. She then said that once babies get over 8 lbs, they get more aggressive, and I piped right thehell up and said, "yeah, we need to talk about that."  I explained the LONG LINE of big-ass babies that have come out of my predecessors, complete with mitigating factors (the biggest was 9-15, my sister, and my mom SMOKED and was ON INSULIN at the time) and then the doc said "Were they all vaginal deliveries?" HELL YES, and unmedicated, too. "Oh, that’s good! I like to hear that…" was her response. I mean, 8 lbs? SHIT! That’snothing in my family. I really love my doc, and I do trust her, and i would MUCH rather go for an induction over a c-section, but 8 lbs is a damn peanut in my family. I dofeel that I have a big say in my care, and that’s good. I really don’t want to end up with a shitload of ultrasounds to ‘weigh’ the baby that (from what I’ve seen, totally anecdotally) are never, ever accurate. It seems so many people get all freaked out "OH the baby is ALREADY 7lbs so they are going to induce!" and th ebaby comes out at 6.5 lbs 2 weeks later, or whatever. Other than that, everything is fine, good heartbeat, measuring spot-on, no comments about my weight gain, so i assume she’s okay with it, too.

I just feel like the train is picking up speed and I’m not keeping up — not with getting shit ready, not with school, not with anything. All i want to do is nap and bury my head in the sand and wake up with a baby, delivered without complications, and a bank account that will support us for a year, comfortably, and my M. Ed hanging on the wall, completed. Sigh.

Shower is being scheduled for April 2, it appears, and will be at my house. (Hosted by my mom and Amy, so not a massive breach of etiquette. This sidesteps the restaurant thing, and also means the presents are opened in their final destination. Nice.)

Dave, to me, last night: "You know, you like to get up and go off for the night, and you haven’t done it in a while, and you probably should before the baby comes, because you’re probably not going to be able to for a long time after that happens…" Man, I love him.

Closest I got to maxing my blood sugar was 114, after eating a GINORMOUS bowl of triple berry oatmeal crips + a whle banana with skim milk. I mean, HUGE.  The fake crappuccino and animal crackers from the vending machine, plus a chicken salad, swiss  and veggies on ww wrap + 16oz lemonade/raspberry iced tea combo (SOOOO not sugar free) put me at 97. I had some of a (big) chocolate bar after school today, and have salsa chicken slow cooking for dinner. It’s almost a really fun game to beat the monitor now.

Baby mail! I got a box from an internet auntie (via target) with an activity mat, yay, and my sister sent me a great package as well. I was a little nervous about my sister’s package, since she is sort of flighty (just emailed me a detailed description of the miraculous new invention: the Boppy) but means well, and had said "It’s just a token gift, I wanted to send something…" so I was kind of expecting maybe "baby’s first paring knife" or something similarly in appropriate. She means well, she’s just.. you know. Her.  ANYWAY, she apparently shopped at babystyle or something, as the package included Robeez (a plain gender neutral brown, I can’t WAIT til we know the gender and I can have fun Robeez), a Zutano baby outift of white shirt and red pants, a 3 piece set of a romper, hat, and receiving blanket in a deep blue with embroidered whales, a BIG crib sixed blanket in baby blue, where one side is a silkie nylon (which is sort of an inside joke, as I have a habit from infancy of rubbing bindings between my fingers, the act of which is called "silking" in my family, and the object upon which the act is performed is the "silkie"), a bottle of California Baby Super-sensitive shampoo and bodywash, and for mama, an organic milk chocolate bar, YUM.   

30weeks today! HOLY CRAP!

I had my gestational diabetes class yesterday, which was really underwhelming, and mostly annoying. To recap, my one hour results were 135, which is the cutoff (OR IS IT, because wouldn’t that mean I passed at the cutoff?) so I had to do the 3 hour. Of the 4 draws there, the last one was "slightly elevated." So, off I go to the diabetes education center, where I’m weighed and BP is tested, and I get my little glucose meter and attend the class with 4 or 5 other pregnant women. I still think it’s bullshit that I’m even there.

To wit:

• The rest of them had high blood pressure, enough to warrant a re-test at the end of the class. I was allowed to leave with "Oh, yeah, Gretchen, your pressure was perfect, so you can go."
• In talking about their numbers, they were talking 200s range. I was at 135 and ‘slightly elevated.’
• The ‘meal plan’ looks like about what I eat anyway.
• The other women all appeared to be considerably older than me.

Hell, even when the RN went over the risk factors, I only had TWO of 7 or 8 listed — I was overweight when I got pregnant, and I’m older than 25 with my first pregnancy. And as far as the weight thing, I’d say that 4 of the 5 other women were likely more overweight than I was when I got pregnant.*

ANYWAY. I left with my little glucometer, and basically have decided that yes, I’ll test my blood every four hours, but I’m not going to freak out about my diet until I see a scientific REASON to, IE, my numbers go up. I’m to test in the morning (fasting), and 2 hrs after each major meal. My targets are to be under 95 for the fasting one, and under 120 for the post-meal readings. So far, I’ve tested three times: at the center, where I tested 2hrs after a PB sandwich and cup of yogurt, it was 80. 2hrs after my dinner of salmon, honeyglazed carrots and crescent rolls (I ain’t afraid, after FOUR crescent rolls) my number 104.  My fasting one this am was 77. Seriously. I’m so not concerned about this. I almost want to see what it takes to get over the line, if sugar-glazed sugar carrots and FOUR GODDAMN CRESCENT ROLLS (From the CAN, MMMM) can’t vault me to the limit, what can?

Don’t get me wrong — absolutely, if shit goes awry I’ll be super cautious, whatever, its my BABY, you know? But I’m not carb-counting yet, or obsessing about anything. Just pricking the finger, writing down the numbers, and keeping the food diary. I go back on March 17 tomeet with the doctor? or someone, to go over my numbers and see how things are, which I’m really sure will be fine. HELLO, not normal to chug extra sugary sugar syrup orange soda on an empty stomach. If i did THAT, I’m sure my numbers would go weird. So I won’t. SO DUMB.

(Also, a pain in the ass, since I am NOT a bleeder — when they had to do the fingerprick for the blood part of the NTS, the nurse was working her ASS off to get 5 drops onto the card, and even commented that it usually never took that much time and effort to get blood out. Last night I had to prick 3 times before a suitable blood drop formed, and I went through 2 strips with an "error" for not having enough. Sigh.)

*Incidentally, I’ve been keeping track of my weight throughout, and at 30w, I’ve gained 16lbs; I’ve gained 1 lb since 26w. I’m feeling pretty good about my weight situation so far, and am feeling confident about coming out on the other side in a good position.

Holy crap, we have a pediatrician. Well, WE don’t, but the widget does. SO WEIRD. My mom was all perplexed as to why we were meeting with a pediatrician — "is there a problem?" And I was all "No, but there is a BABY that will COME OUT OF ME in a few months that needs a doctor…" "Doesn’t your doctor take care of all that?" Oh, right. Because when MY mom had us, in rural-ass maine, you had A Doctor. The doctor was your GP/OB/Ped whatever. It seems so… weird to me, now. I have different people for all of that (and need to — my OB sent me back to my GP for the back spasms, for instance, and I’m sure they’d not schedule a well-baby visit, either.)

She seemed really nice, I went armed with the questions I’d been recommended to ask, and the answers were all good. They do have a well-baby waiting room, evening hours, weekend hours, etc. They defer to the hospital LC for those questions (which is probably just because of our rurality — lots of shared resources, ie, the perinatologist, etc) and the doc was really nice. Very bubbly, but a mom of young kids herself (and she even confessed that her practice changed after she lived through the experiences her patients always talked about) and committed to staying in the area. (The practice is part of the big healthcare system, which can often have more transient doctors who do their first job here and move on.)

When we left, Dave was all weird. It definitely had some sort of …. effect on him. It was cute, watching him walk out and look around and be like "Huh, our baby has a pediatrician. Huh." Just another layer of reality, I guess.

Tonight I’m going out with my friend Jess to see Walk the Line at the cheap seats, which will be nice, since Dave is going to be doing his video game thing tonight. Tomorrow is GD info day. All is well, so far.

I’ve warned you. I’m whiny today.

Why? Let’s see….

Socks. Socks suck. Whoever thought socks were a good idea? My back is feeling better, for sure, I haven’t even taken a narcotic in several days (but Tylenol is my friend), but because of the whole listing waddle thing going on, I now have an ache in my left leg (which is the bitchy leg anyway, that has the touchy sciatic nerve, was restless during the first tri, etc) that makes putting on socks — and even pants — a pain in my ass.  It’s so… deliberate, now. Balancing carefully on one leg — balancing on the left one is ouchy, balancing on the right is okay, but then I have to contort the achy left one up to get the damn sock ON. So. Socks. No good.  (On the other hand, the best thing I bought all year have been my Keen clogs, which are perfect for general winter days that aren’t filled with snow and other weather. They’re warm, comfy, and require no contortions. Step in and go. I love them.)

Dishes.  I have a weird system for doing dishes, and rules for all of them. Tableware goes through the washer, everything else gets handwashed (cookware, utensils not used for eating, etc). Because I’ve been laid up, I had a LOT of cookware to handwash, and I tackled it yesterday, but, ohhhhh, my belly is at he PERFECT HEIGHT to make dishwashing troublesome. I end up in weird positions to get my hands in the sink, and I remember seeing in some magazine or something to put one foot on a footstool while doing such tasks, and that definitely helped. The dishes got done, which is GREAT, but man, it’s only going to get worse.

My ibook charger died last week, for no apparent reason, and I do have AppleCare, so they are sending me a replacement next week, but I wish I’d just grabbed one from the lab for the weekend.  I have my G3 charger, but it’s bent and mangled, and works great in the G3, and I got it to work for a little while in the G4, but no longer. I think I may even swap out the mangled G3 connection at the lab, since we have SO many spares, but it’s weird to be on Old Faithful right now. Ironically, about an hour before I realized the G4 was out for the weekend, I’d gone through the G3 and finally removed all of my links, stored passwords, etc.

GD — I guess I have it? Or something? My last (of four) draws was elevated, so they referred me to an informational class at the diabetes center, but its’ not til March 2. I’m guessing that I’m not critical, since I dont have any restrictions or instructions to do anything except the class. Which is why I’ll make cookies tomorrow, thank you very much.

My shower — my mom wants to do something, but is away until the end of the month (and, as an aside, she met Kinky Friedman in the Aspen airport the other night, which, god, my mom introducing herself to Kinky Friedman is just weird) and people have been asking, so I asked her today and she said "Oh, you want it before you have the baby?"  WTF? YES!! That’s when you HAVE a shower. Especially since I’m not purchasing anything else for the widget until I have a shower (at the advice of multiple mama-friends, not just being greedy, I swear), I’m really relying on a pre-BIRTH shower to see what we DO need to get to fill in.  Dave’s coworkers gave us a $50 giftcard to Baby Depot, but I don’t even want to use THAT until we know what we need — especially since baby Depot has the worst returns policy in the damn WORLD, and would otherwise not get one red cent from us.  Anyway, I’m stressed out about the shower anyway. I really, really want one! I do, and I’m not ashamed to say so! But my mom was asking today if there was a restaurant we could have it at, and I don’t WANT to do that, because I don’t WANT people to have to buy lunch and be ‘expected’ to get a gift, too. I want one, but I want a low-key one.  Maybe I should let Jess do it, she offered, but my mom wanted to do something.. I don’t know. ARGH! Seriously, I want a veggie plate, chips and dip, and cake, and to have some sort of formal good-wishes thing for the widget. And yeah, presents. I won’t lie.  But, at this point it looks like it will be in April, which, whatever, is fine, but it’s stressing me out.

My PCP: I’m SO DONE with the family practice that’s been my PCP for the last few years. I’ve been annoyed by them in the past, but after dealing with a GREAT OB, I realize just how much I DON’T like the family practice.  I went there because my doc moved there, and i really liked her, but now she’s only part time or something.  I had to follow up my ER visit with the PCP and not the OB, and the appointment was the last one I’ll have there. First, let it be known that I LOVE STUDENTS. LOVE THEM. I have never, ever, ever deined a student nurse/doc/whatever to observe or assist or anything. I’m an educator, I believe in hands-on learning, and I am always, always, always glad to have a student learn on (?) me. But. I waited for about half an hour before the student nurse called me back to do my vitals, which took FOREVER. It took three tries to get my BP done, for instance. She was nice, but it took a long time.  She leaves and says "Sharon" will be in shortly. I wait and wait and wait. It’s about 100 degrees in the exam room, I drink water, and fan myself with a magazine, and even consider opening the window or a door to get some fresh air. HOT.  Knock ont he door . . . and it’s Not A Sharon. Jason the Student PA is here to examine me. I explain what happened (ER, muscle spasms, narcotics, just checking in) and he feels my back and neck and asks a million questions and says "I think you probably had a muscle spasm. Or a pulmonary embolism."  I mean, lucky for me, I’m not easily influenced, and am damn sure I had a muscle spasm, but, WTF? Pulmonary embolism? OH, OKAY. Either one, whatever.  He leaves, because he has to verify with the mythical Sharon. Wait wait wait. Hot. HOOOOTTTT. Wait wait wait. Sharon and Jason return, she has two dayplanners in her hand, and looks rushed and annoyed or… something. Not a good vibe. Jason says "It seems you have experienced a MUSCLE SPASM. The treatment at this point is HEAT and GENTLE STRETCHING." Great. Really? You think? So, I explain to Sharon (& Jason) that yeah, I FIGURED AS MUCH, and that I wasn’t taking the narcotics, but I wanted it noted in my file so that in the future, I could possibly avoid an ER trip if it were to happen again. Blank stares, basically, and I’m done. AN HOUR AND A HALF LATER. FUCKING A.

So, Im done.  My MIL used to go there, and she’s a professional patient, and she’s left the practice too. Two of the docs that were there have started their own private practice, and they accept my insurance, so I think I’m going to switch, too. I’ve seen one, a DO, before and liked her, so that’s good enough for me.  I’ll probably ask MIL how it’s going down there (since I guarantee she’s been in more than once by now) before calling, but that would probably make her feel good to be able to give me some information on finding a better practice.  After I have the baby (IN ABOUT 82 DAYS OMG), I will need to be set up somewhere for general stuff.  It’s so WEIRD, after going for so long for a yearly pap, BC prescription, inhaler refill, see ya next year (and many of those appts done at the family planning clinic), to have had so much medical stuff going on in the last 6 months — m/c, pregnancy, biopsy, dermatologist,  muscle spasms, etc…. it really drives home that I need a good solid PCP.

So. Good things:  The widget is kicking all the time, the stretch marks continue to appear on the right side of my belly, which is sorta weird, and I have really, really good friends.  After I got home from the ER on Tuesday, I don’t think I mentioned this, but Dave had to work (and was late anyway) and I was so hungry, and couldn’t move, and I called Andy and he brought me a cheeseburger and milkshake to me, right upstairs and to my bed. That’s a damn good friend, you know?  I have a warm house on a cold day, a family that loves me, a husband that loves me, and a plan to bake cookies within the next 24 hours. It’s not THAT bad. I just wish I could find a comfortable position for sleeping.

Yay! Thanks to Berrygirl and her unused e-coupon, I picked up the fabric I fell in love with today.  Here’s a crappy cell phone picture of it.

Question for the crafty types, though — this fabric is 100% cotton, and feels almost canvas-like. It was ina section of all kind of similar fabric, and this one is labeled "Dry Clean Only," while other fabrics had machine washable instructions, too. For a crib bumper (that will likely be unnecessary for a long time, I’m so lame) I’m thinking that’s not a problem. Either way, I bought a little extra to test it for machine washability — but what could happen? Bleeding color? Shrinkage, I get, but all of this was heavier 100% cotton stuff, and only SOME was DCO, and I couldn’t find an alogorithm to support why some might be that way.  ANy ideas? And how should I test it — in the sink? Run it through one of my prefold diaper-seasoning washes? (Thinking that if it stains, no big deal, they are just diapers and have to be washed more anyway) Any advice?

I also went to school today, on only Tylenol, YEEHAA! May my good fortune continue.  However, with the back thing, and the belly thing (it being huge), I am officially a lumbering pregnant woman. I don’t want to piss off the spine again, and my left leg is getting wonky from walking all hitched up on the right,and I’m, you know, PREGNANT, and I feel like a moose, just lurching one leg in front of the other, slowly. I’ve always been a fast walker, and Dave HATES that I race through a store or whatever, and today? I was following HIM. Sigh. But yeah. I’m 28 weeks pregnant.

See?

I’m still alive! But still on drugs.  But less of them!  The spasms have gone from a steady, hiccup-y pulsing pain (we’ve literally been calling them back hiccups) to an erratic clench and a general soreness. I haven’t taken a muscle relaxant today, and am taking just one percocet every 4 hours instead of 2, and only when the pain is enough to interfere with my breathing. Because breathing is goooooodddd.

Dave has been a champ, the percocet is a big dry pill, that I just can’t swallow with water, so Dave has been getting up and getting applesauce and a spoon and all of that so that I can get the meds without leaving bed. Middle of the night, even. And refilling my water bottle. The last few mornings, he’s given me my pills and set me up with the iBook, the remote, the phone, and something to eat (this morning, a banana), and he checks in on me throughout the morning.

Today I felt mobile enough that I took a shower and got dressed and was in the living room when he came home for lunch.  At 11, i thought about telling him not to bother driving me to the doc, but the pain kicked in about 11:45, and driving on percocet doesn’t seem advisable. BUT, that I even thought I COULD is a huge step up from the last few days.

My appt today is with my PCP, basically I want to be on record as having had this happen, so that in case it happens again it’s part of my medical history and no one thinks I’m just cruising the ER looking for some good meds.  PLus, dude, it SUCKS. (And my poor 83 year old grandma is going through the same thing this week too, only she’s getting an MRI. And my dad has always had back problems, mostly because one leg is shorter than the other on account of a skiing accident when he was a teenager, but yeah, now it’s my turn.) 

Tomorrow I’m hoping to get to school for a meeting; I haven’t been all week.  Next week is tourney week, so I need to be taking pictures then, but I’m really hoping I’m on an even keel by then. Realllly hoping. Tonight I have a Pampered CHef party to attend, Deb is driving, and I’m pretty sure I can handle it — I really want to see my old school friends, you know? So I’ll be the stoned pregnant woman oohing and aahing over stoneware. Hee. Stoneware.

Also, I love the new gmail chat.  Dave doesn’t use chat programs, but he does use gMail, and he’s used it several times this week to check on me. We’ve done the "fire email back and forth repeatedly" thing so many times, that this just makes it easier.

Back spasms started around 5, couldn’t get out of bed, took one of the muscle relaxants my OB prescribed, NOTHING. Called OB on call, went to ER at 7, screaming/growling until given valium and percocet. Oh, and got rearended on way home from ER, no one hurt, car okay, but FUCK, high and still spasming but in that far away place and I jsut wanted to go HOME.

Waiting for Dave to pick up the percocent and flexeril rx, as it’s ramping up again –I’m on my back in bed with wireless laptop to email prfos and stuff.

First shared medical emergency with Dave, Learned a lot. Like, when the OB on call calls back, don’t hand the fucking phone to me when I can’t even breathe through the pain. ALso, in ER, come WITH ME when I’mbein wheeled in to triage.  Weird though, since we’ve never had to deal with anything like this til now, but already feel way more prepared for the next time and/or lbaor stuff. In the end, he was achamp.  Defintely gets the idea of a doula now.

I’ve never been in so much pain I’ve had to screamlikke that. Fucked up. More later.

Forgot to mention, baby fine, not at all related to my uterus or anything. ALL BACK.