Entries Tagged 'pregnancy' ↓

I’m looking over an itemized list of charges for an afternoon spent stopping labor.  I think a doctor spent less than three minutes in my room.  Over four thousand dollars for a few tests, IV, a steroid shot, and terbutaline.

Something smells and I just changed the baby.

I’m waiting for a call back from billing on a couple of the more obscure, but extremely expensive charges.

I would be abysmally pregnant the hottest summer in years.

To all the whiners. . .  Just be glad you don’t have your own personal 8lb furnace installed.

Today will be the first time I’ve left the house in days and it’s only because I have to.  The kids may develop scurvy if I don’t get some fresh food in the house.  OK, it’s not that bad, but the fridge is looking pretty sad and we’re out of peanut butter for Pete’s sake. I dread crossing the parking lot and may actually take advantage of the “stork” parking* for the first time ever.

*I usually a park at the end of the row, so I don’t have to worry about car doors or other people waiting for my spot while I deal with car seats.

Last night, in an effort to convince this kid to move, my friend and I took our children to the mall.  My stepdaughter pushed my friend’s toddler in a stroller.  My friend carried her infant in a sling and my boys attempted to stage an interpretation of the Chaos Theory as we strolled along.

A middle aged couple kept pace for a while.  Before we parted ways, I overheard the woman say to the man, something to the effect of “all those teen moms.”

My friend and I are rather flattered, thank you.

Dear Baby,

You need to wait a day or two before making your appearance.  Give me time to get over this horrendous cold/stomach bug or your delivery may make headlines.

Mother’s Head Explodes Giving Birth

Clean up expected to take weeks

That’s not how I’d like to be remembered.

Love,

Mom

Latest advice from the doc:

Don’t wait until you know you are in labor, come in if you think you MIGHT possibly be in labor.

Eyes glued to the clock.

Are they picking up or slowing down?  Just another sleepless night or is it time to call grandma to babysit.?  I told Tim it’s like having a hammer hanging over my head.  I know it’s going to hurt when it falls.  I know it won’t be for long, but knowing it’s unpleasant does put some damper on the excitement.  Like many  pregnant women I have a developed a minor obsession with birth stories.  I enjoy reading the midwifery blogs. Occasionally I stumble upon one that is tragic and yet I can’t tear myself away.  At other times I read the ones by those who believe themselves to be the embodiment of a goddess while giving birth and I laugh until I cry.  A positive outlook is helpful, but there is a line where you cross into the absurd.

I ‘ve done it both ways and I plan on trying to go natural once again, simply because the recovery was so much easier.  I will take a few hours of pain over weeks of discomfort any time.   You won’t hear me speaking of dancing on rainbows envisioning flowers during the expansions.  Contractions hurt, about that I have no illusions.

I think we’re down to days, but my house is clean and my freezer is nearly full.  I’m ready.

My birthday is tomorrow, I want to spend the day curled up with Harry Potter.  Hopefully I can.

Vera tagged me as a Rockin’ Girl Blogger. The deal is to tag five other people for it. I’m generally not good at these things, but here are five more…

BadbadIvy – Without her, there’d be no Home Ec 101, Moncks Corner Moments, nor would I be writing for Lowcountry Blogs.  Thanks for turning me on to the whole thing.   I owe ya one.

Margo – I’ve enjoyed watching her love of photography grow over the last year.

April – although she’s been very quiet, as of late.

KathyT – Another nashvillian, but I don’t hold it against her.  I enjoy her zest for life.

Kat Coble – like myself, I’m sure she’ll object to the title Rockin’  but. . . There have been times where I can’t separate her writing from my own internal monologue.  This frightens and intrigues me.

Even though I’ve hardly left the couch the past few weeks, I’ve managed to become behind in almost every venture.  I’m not even counting housework, as my doctor said, “I don’t care if it collapses, ignore it.”

Tuesday the restrictions are lifted and I can herd the dustbunnies, negotiate a truce with the laundry, and wipe out anything that may be growing in the bathrooms.  It’s probably telling that these things weigh so heavily on my mind.

It won’t be long.

Last night I skirted doctor’s orders and headed down to the beach with Margo for some pictures.  I didn’t want to miss what will be my last opportunity for maternity pictures.  It’s a closing chapter in my life, bittersweet with relief and very little regret.

These two are my favorites, but check out her post for more.

Once there was a husband who complained of a wicked sore throat.  He moaned and groaned, sweating and pale.

“Go to the doctor!”

“It’s just a cold.”

One by one we’re succumbing to spiking fevers and glassy eyes.   Expensive trips to Urgent Care, throat swabs, shots, and antibiotics.

I’m the last one standing.  A few more sleepless nights and nothing will save me.  I swear, if I go into labor with strep throat, there will be Hell to pay.

I don’t exactly like touring the labor and delivery ward at 32 weeks.  I had been hoping the midwife would pat me on the head and send me home with a lecture to rest.   Instead I was sent to Trident for some testing, fluids (they pushed them so hard my fingers are swollen), and some medication to stop contractions.

In your teens, did you ever drink as much coffee as you could, just to see what it felt like? That’s what these shots do, but they stop contractions and I’ll take that over a preemie.

I’m under orders to rest and not pick up my toddler if I can help it.  Friends and ladies from church are taking these orders quite seriously and pitching in to make sure I can live up to the resting part while Tim is at work.   I’m very, very grateful.

5 more weeks to cook and I will happily welcome the arrival, now let’s just make it there.

It’s a proven fact that hormones cause strange dreams.  I’ve been having crazy adventures each and every night.   Yesterday takes the cake though with running from part-time, Wisconsin, government zombies.  I wish I was making it up, but I only had to run from them until 6pm and then magically they were back to “normal.”