Monthly Archives: February 2006

Stocking up

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Both teams won their regional championships, so it ws fun picture taking. It’s so weird, on the court they move so fast and such that you forget that they are KIDS, and then they win, and I’m up close taking pictures and you see the braces and the pimples and the sheer YOUTH of the players, and it’s just… weird. Those are my favorite pics to take during the tourneys, though, and I definitely got some good ones.  I also saw a girl I used to babysit for and her mom — the girl isnow 18, a senior, going to college in the fall.. so odd. Her mom said "I sw you from the stands and thought, ‘Here I am, finishing up, and she’s down there just getting started!’" I guess so.

Had a major breakthrough epiphany today.  I’ve been stressing out having to defend seventeen million choices we’re making in regards to this baby to my ILs, not the least of which is our very mutual decision to have our children carry my surname. But, I realized today that, DUH — that’s basically what MIL did in giving Dave a surname. He doesn’t have his father’s last name, either. AND, the widget’s surname will have 100times more meaning for our family, and for the widget, than Dave’s surname has held for him. SO. Settled, if we get any flak, I’ll just turn it around and point out that we’re actually FOLLOWING her tradition.

We visited the MIL today, and my SIL called while we were there and she came down for a while. It was actually the best visit in a long time — I asked MIL about the new practice, and how I needed to switch from my current PCP doc, and she filled me in on that, and my SIL just bought a new Impreza, so she and Dave talked Subaru for a while. It’s rare that we have much to say when we’re there, so it was nice to have an actual conversation.

I used our Baby Depot giftcard today, too. I personally don’t spend any money there, but the giftcard came from Dave’s coworkers. I went with the intent of looking for a crib mattress — some way to spend all of the giftcard, and the minimum of cash — but they didn’t have the cheap ones. I did get a My Brest Friend nursing pillow and LilyPadz nursing pads, two products raved about on IM/ADL for nursing moms, and products that I can’t get anywhere else in town. I left havin to spend less than 8 dollars of my own money, so YAY. 

I then went to Target and had the most pregnant woman purchase ever: Tums, a nipple shield*, and two boxes of thank you notes.

*I’m stocking up on random nursing supplies that I’d hate to try to describe to Dave in a postpartum haze — so far, I have the MBF, nipple shield, Lansinoh and reusable gel packs (courtesy of searching for relief of the Funky Nipple), disposable nursing pads (courtesty of kb! thanks!), Lilypadz, and an Ameda Purely Yours pump.  I have the Isis and some sterilizer bags on my registry (the Ameda has a seal that hasn’t been broken yet, in case the Isis would be enough as the Ameda is my "if I get a job and need to pump a lot" backup idea…) Any other nursing supplies I might want, o experienced nursing moms? (Oh, and I have some bottles on the registry — and I have an Avent bottle, and some lansinoh storage bags that I’ve received as well) And what about postpartum? I keep worrying about diapers and sleeping gowns and stuff for the baby, but I probably need some, uhh, pads anyway, right?

Travesty!

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Ugh. Total disappointment at the mexican restaurant. The food was good, but the bill? Pissed us off. Here are some warnings before heading out to The Mex in Ellsworth.

  • No chips and salsa while waiting to order or eat. Isn’t that the first rule of mexican restaurants?
  • No free refills for soft drinks, and no mention that you’ll be charged $1.75 for every 10oz tumbler filled with ice and drizzled with soft drink. Seriously, maybe the equivalent of half a can of soda in each ‘large’ (oh, and we didn’t specify a size, because, hello, when’s the last time YOU paid for a refill of a fountain beverage?_
  • Burritos don’t come with sour cream.
  • When you ASK for sour cream, guess what? It’s MAGICAL FUCKING SOUR CREAM, because the scoop I got cost $1.50, as opposed to the name brand stuff I can get at Shaw’s that costs less than a buck a pint.
  • I expected to be charged for the guac, and I did get a lot, but that was another $2.75.
  • We ended up paying more for fountain beverages and condiments than we did for our individual meals, and the meals were ~10 bucks.
  • Also? NEVER EVER told that any of it would be an additional charge. Ever. Which is just bad form, IMO, since they operate on such a different pricing structure than any other restaurant in eastern Maine, I think.

So, next time we just go to Pepino’s. Or Margarita’s. Or fucking TACO BELL. Yes, they have some good veggie stuffings, but seriously. I’m surprised there wasn’t a charge for rental of utensils and the booth. Fuck.

Can’t win…

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The teams I’ve had to shoot most this week are from my alma mater and our rival, and by sheer coincidence, every game I’ve attended I’ve been wearing the opposition’s team colors. Truly a coincidence, but I can imagine people recognizing me from the stands and thinking I was doing it just to be a spiteful asshole, since I really feel no undying love for my alma mater, or the town, or the people, and Idon’t spend halftime shmoozing and hugging people in the stands or whatever. It’s pretty much a no eye contact experience for me. But, I did feel kind of like an accidental jerk witht he color thing, so I saved my ONE purple shirt to wear today, if only to prove that I WASN’T a bitch. I roll in, and what is the other team? Purple and white. Playing in their purple uniforms. FUCKING A. Can’t win at all. (Also, bizarrely, they have the same school song — musically, the words are obviously different — so it was this sea of purple and hearing the same song twice, and just.. weird.)  Woo-town won, which means they go to the state game next week, which I hope I don’t have to shoot because it’s in Augusta. Usually if they get to the state game, someone wants to go and they take the pictures, so we’ll see.  I don’t mind taking the action pictures, but I’m so NOT a sports photog — i get some good ones and some duds, but it works out. I do like taking the pictures of when they win, though, because everything is slowed down a bit, the players are beaming, and you know, there’s no one putting a hand in their face and blocking both our shots. I definitely got some good emotion shots, which is really more of my specialty (well, that and weird details of things..) so that part was fun.  One more game tonight, and I’m pretty much done.  All week I’ve only had one unexpected conversation — I expect the ones with #1 Fan (oh, today in a ’93 warm up jacket), with Mr B from the Aggravator, etc,  — today’s was with Molly, where I got to see her 6 monthold and be told that "My priorities will totally change" (to which Dave said "SHIT! We can still solicit hookers and do blow with a BABY, can’t we?") which is what everyone tells you, that and "it’s worth it" and "you’re life will totally change." NO SHIT. Anyway. She looked good, I got to hear about how sick the baby was in her first few weeks, etc etc.

Speaking of MY baby, yet another Oh My God, we’re having a BABY moment last night.  I logged into my target registry to see if anything else had been discontinued, because I registered in the middle of them shifting all of their stock around, so it’s been an issue, and I saw the word FULFILLED on a couple of things. !!! I wasn’t trolling to see if I’d scored anything yet, because, hello, I don’t even have a shower scheduled, so it was so WEIRD to see that someone, somewhere, is buying into this whole "gretchen’s having a baby" scheme. I mean, WEIRD. I’m having a REAL LIVE BABY that will use stuff that’s ALREADY BEEN PURCHASED. Ho. LY. SHIT. CRAZY.

Today: Ellsworth! Mexican Food! More Basketball!

Apocalypse Averted

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1) It is snowing today. Not snowstorm snowing, but at least it is SNOWING.

2) "Woo-town’s"* number one fan that had moved to the old people section? Apparently, it was temporary. He was there last night, in his purple/gold t-shirt ("WHS #1 FAN"), purple/gold clown wig, purple/gold face paint, and purple/gold jester hat, leading the crowd (from the BLEACHERS) in lots of "Gimme a W!" type stuff. Also, heckling refs.

Maybe the world isn’t coming to an end, after all.

*Yes, Amy, apparently that’s the new town nickname? or something? Seriously. Woo-town. Woo-hoo-town.

Good things!

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Uh, yeah, sorry about leaving the whiny post at the top for so long… moving on….

The cat doesn’t have diabetes! This rocks. We are very happy to know that. Her test was more than two weeks ago, but I got sidetracked with the back and all that, and totally forgot that I hadn’t HEARD anything yet, so i called yesterday, and the vet left a VM saying she’s all good. Yay! Of course, after the tests she sort of backed off the crazy thirst/peeing combo, and is even acting downright frisky (well, okay, chasing imaginary flies on the way from sleeping in her chair to sleeping on the couch might not be ‘frisky’ in your world, but trust me. It is in hers.). It’s all good.

I have the diabetes info session next week, but have had zero instructions or restrictions placed on my diet or whatever at this point, so I’m assuming I’m not that serious (as it was, only the lst of four draws was ‘elevated’) and living as such. Which is why I made cookies last night while Dave got his slot car track running. Not a bad evening in our house, eh? Cookies, slotcars, and happy non-diabetic fat cats.

Weird realization: Hello, I have ELEVEN WEEKS LEFT. ELEVEN. That is so not anything. In fact, I will likely be a MOTHER when I watch the Survivor and Amazing Race finales this season. THAT IS FUCKED UP. I’ve never watched a reality show finale with something eating from me. THAT IS FUCKED. UP.  Also? WE HAVE SO MUCH TO DO. ANd then? I HAVE NO JOB. It will all work out. It will all work out. It will all work out.

I’m starting to work on my seminar topic, which is basically boiling down to internet addiction, I think. Ha! A HA HAHAHAHA! Yes. Well, see, my original seed ideas were swirling around the question of "are we more connected as a society with al these global connections, and/or are local communities affected by that?" I mean. I probably qulaify as an internet addict. I spend a LOT of time online. Granted, it’s my job, a major part of my chosen career, and I spend hours a day in a computer lab with nothing else to do. I guess I could work on homework, but you know what I mean. I also have made all these great friends, real live FRIENDS, over the last several years by way of Digs, my journal, IM/ADL, whatever. I would bet that there are more people participating in my Digs (online) shower than will be at my IRL shower. See? I just said "IRL shower." Most people just have A Shower. I have the online one and the real one.

When I was in junior high, I signed up for a penpal through Teen magazine, and got one from Missouri. We wrote HUGE letters to each other, from seventh grade until we graduated, and then after, these 12-20 page long missives about boys and school and our families and whatever. Really, it was like a journal. She came here to visit before we went into 9th grade, I went there before 10th? 11th? and she came here for my high school graduation. It was the last time I saw her in person.  After 6 years of being each other’s diary, we just.. grew apart. She was southern Baptist, I was uh, yankee Stoner. It just got weird. We contacted each other a few times in the last ten years, she wrote me a letter telling me her biggest secret, because she had to tell someone and know that it was okay to do what the godfearing Missourians would tell her was murder, and I really wonder who else knows about that, still. I wrote her a few times as I tried to figure stuff out, but in the end, that was that. She’s married, lives in South Florida now with her husband and two little boys (I google her and get her sorority alumni updates, which is how I know all that), and I hope, is very happy. I still have all her letters in a box at my parents house, because it feels weird to throw them out. I think about sorting through them, organizing them, and finding her address and mailing them to her because really, it was a 6 year diary. Iwonder where mine are.

I tell that story, because it really was the precursor to my fondness for the internet. It didn’t exist in 1987, at all, but to have that outlet, that was really important. My online journal over the years has been the subsititute, really. I used to write to K in history class, or math, or other times I was supposed to be doing something else, and now, here I am, at 30, doing the same thing…  Being used to that distant, text-based friendship is just how I am. I have GREAT friends in real life, I do. Andy and Josh brought me a cheeseburger in BED when I couldn’t move. Amy will be there when I have the widget. I have great friends in real life, and some of those I met because of the internet.

Anyway. Yeah. Internet addiction, affect on community connectedness, etc. that kind of stuff. And on that note, I’m trying to think what would be easier — a mailing list for Dave to send out the news once the widget arrives, or training him in TypePad (admittedly, NOT HARD and he IS SMART), or both. GEEEEEK.

Also, been shooting the tournaments. It’s a bad year for WaCo basketball teams, as I’m down to just two that made it to the semifinals. The girls team from my alma mater, and the boys team from our rival school. Greeeeaatt. I had to call Amy and shriek into the phone "OH MY GOD, WE"RE OLD!" when I relayed the sad, sad fact that our school’s "number one fan" is now sitting in the OLD PEOPLE SEATS and not the bleachers, didn’t ONCE do the bellowing "GOOOOOOO OUUUUURRSCHHHHOOOOLLL", and even -gasp! — wasn’t wearing PURPLE. How did that happen? We’re old!

Oh, one baby related thing: I am one that would never, ever, ever ask someone if they were pregnant, comment on it, anything, unless I had been told they were pregnant, or the person was in labor and I could see the head crowning.  I’ve heard of too many people that get burned in that scenario, are mortified, and warn everyone else to bite their tongues when they see a big belly. But, as it turns out, not only do I not ASK, I also don’t TELL. One of my undergrad profs, I see her all the time coming and going, but I’m in my giant blue coat, so, whatever. Giant coat. Last week, though, on the day I took the belly shot, actually, she walked by me at the mailboxes, where I was NOT in a a giant blue coat. She did the usual, beam, "Hi, Gretchen! How are you!" and then was suddenly distracted by the mass that is the widget living inside of me… but she didn’t say anything, just looked back at me, maybe waiting for me to say something, and I just… smiled. What was i supposed to say? (I was really tempted to be all "OH, hey, there’s coffee cake by Becky’s desk" and walk off, but I didn’t.)  I figure she’ll ask around (I would, anyway, just feel out some contacts and say "hey, is Gretchen pregnant?" and then the next time I saw her, say "COngratulations! I hear you’re expecting.")  But, I don’t say anything. It’s weird — I don’t hide the belly, at all — i kind of like how the shirts I’m wearing accentuate it, really… the pants just suck because they are always drooping — but I also don’t get alll "BBBAAAAAYYYBBBEEEEEE" on anyone who is within 3 feet. Just, hmm. Weird.

Whine whine whine

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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.

Fabric!

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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. 021706_1954

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?
021706_1953

Duuuuuddeee

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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.

DRUGS

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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.

Blargh

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First, Happy Rollins Day!

Second, what a shitty day.  I had the 3 hour today, which required fasting for 12 hours, which sucked because the fast started before our usually (fairly late) dinner time, and I TRIED to eat, but I just wasn’t hungry. Sigh. I got over that, slept okay, and woke up early this morning to get dressed and go to the hopsital. I had to pee first thing, who doesn’t but while I was peeing I cleared my throat a bit to get the morning frogs out, and as I cleared my throat, I heard a loud *CRACK!* and immediately was in major-ass pain.  I don’t know exactly what I did, or how I did it, but something in my back just fucking SNAPPED and I could barely walk, and definitely couldn’t walk upright. GREAT.

I’ve excused Dave from 90 percent of my appointments, since they seem to be really basic and not worth losing time at work for (especially when said time will be more valuable postpartum than it is now) but I did ask if he’d drive me to, and pick me up from, the 3 hour test. I’m SO glad I did. 

He droppedme off, and I did my best to walk a straight line so that he wouldn’t look like some asshole pushing his pregnant wife out of the car at the curb and peeling off.  I registered, sat crooked in the chair, hobbled crookedly to the lab, and got the first draw, and waited in the chairs for a while before getting the 100grams of Glucola, which still sucks.  I was allowed to take Tylenol after that, and took three, and sat down. I started feeling really icky, though, and went to the bathroom thinking maybe it was just gas or something, but it wasn’t and it got worse. I crouched down to the floor and put my head on the sink (BEST PLACE to be in the public restroom of a hospital, UGH) and managed not to puke. I don’t puke, but this felt worse than anything in the first tri. It was AWFUL.  I wet a paper towel and tryed to cool off my face and neck, which were throbbing with quease, and I made my way back to the lab desk and said "Uhh, I don’t feel good…" and they swept me into the lab itself and put me in the reclining blood-draw chair. (Of course, my back being so fucked up, they had to recline it FOR me.)  They brought me water, and offered to call Dave to pick me up, and I could do it another time, but FUCK THAT, I was getting it done in one go. They told me to try to sleep, not move, etc, and brought me cold, wet, paper towels that I draped all over my head and neck. I felt AWFUL. MISERABLE. It SUCKED.  They came in and did my draws, but I managed to sleep quite a bit, and do my ‘counting backwards’ thing that I do when I’m anxious or ill or unable to sleep to help get through the waves of nausea washing over me.  There were a few other women there doing the 3 hour, it was obvious, but they were fine apparently. ABout ten minutes before my last stick, I woke up and didn’t immediately feel upset that I was awake again, and when I was done, I called Dave to pick me up.

While I was waiting for him, I eavesdropped on a family conversation behind me.  They were from up north, a good 3 or more hours away, and there for a doctor’s appointment for their baby and to visit the NICU nurses. He was born 2 1/2 months early, and had some kidney concerns, apparently, but they really wanted to visit the NICU nurse that sent them pictures every day while he was hopsitalized and they were all so far away. It was scary, yeah, but it also felt really… I don’t know. I mean, for one, the baby sitting there, if I had mine in 2 weeks, it could be okay. It could be okay NOW, but to see an actual baby born at around 30 weeks, it was reassuring. And while I bitch and moan and bitch about the fact that my GIANT REGIONAL MEDICAL CENTER has no goddamn TUBS to labor in, like the smaller regional hopsitals do, there is a NICU. ANd if shit went bad, KNOCK ON WOOD, I wouldn’t have to rely on a nurse to send me pictures every day, I’d still be in the same zip code as my baby, the same COUNTY, even, and listening to the conversation reminded me that that’s not the case for a lot of people. SInce my hopsital has the NICU for central and northern Maine, I bet a lot of babies there aren’t FROM here, but like that little baby behind me, from the County, far from home.

Dave picked me up, and we went to lunch at HoJos, where I was greeted with a "GRETCHHHEEENNN! How ya’ doin’, darlin’?" form the world’s best waitress, that I probably haven’t seen in 4 months, anyway. She did know i was pregnant, I had told her when I went one day in the first tri for a waffle craving, and she remembered and as always, made me feel like she was genuinely glad to see me.  I had to go to my OB appointment, where I brought up the back thing and got an RX for a pregnancy safe muscle relaxant, advice on how to deal with what is apparently a rib pinching a nerve (the wearing-off novocaine feeling I sometimes get on my upper adbomen) and sympathy for my Glucola reaction (same thing had happened to her, making me feel SO much less like a total pussy).  Baby is fine, and she showed me how to try to figure out where parts were, which was really nice. (She also referred to it as ‘she,’ but she doesn’tknow the sex, either, so I’m putting it into the intution guess category.)

I decided not to go to class, since the rx couldmake me drowsy and the thought of walking from my car to the class (kind of a trek on campus) was daunting. I went to the pharmacy, where I was greeted with "Hi Gretchen! Dropping off or picking up?" which was nice, but also sort of depressing, since LITERALLY, I have never had more medications in me than in the last 6 months of pregnancy.  I got my pills, a microwaveable heating pad thingie, and a People magazine, and came home and put all three to good use. UGH.

So, yeah. That was my day. I’m still tired, and will take another pill before I take a shower and get into bed.  It’s just so… weird. So few of my medical issues during pregnancy have been directly related to the pregnancy itself — the progesterone, sure, and I guess my worsened asthma counted for something, and then there was the funky nipple, whcih technically started in my FIRST pregnancy and just got worse and worse, like my thyroid thing, and the bronchitis, the back, the headaches (I NEVER got headaches before I got pregnant) the glucola kicking my ass, the anemia, just, ALL THIS STUFF.  ANd now I’m listing 45 degrees to the right, and look like a 90 year old pregnant woman. WHAT. THE. FUCK.

On the other hand, I saw at least 2 couples come in and register and head up to the L&D ward. I assume they were scheduled for an induction or c-section, since they weren’t visibly in pain, but they did look really excited, and that sort of made ME excited. Because, in the end, what matters is that we have a BABY. I’ll be a mom, and Dave will be a dad, and that’s what’s most important. I can deal with all of the bullshit, even the no-tubs issue, if I get to be a mother. That makes it worth it.

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