Sunday, August 26, 2012

non-stop service to...

dreaming (week 34) 

i'm sure all parents-to-be have nightmares about worst case scenarios. my dreams have been ramping up lately. there isn't anything to do about it, so i'm trying to stay calm. twice last week i dreamed that she is actually a he. now that i think carefully about it, could my little ditsy ultrasound tech actually be skilled enough to tell at 12 week old penis from a 12 week old vagina? that's just crazy. how could she know? she was guessing; i'm convinced. and i'm so looking forward to our little girl - pinked out, if you will - but i suppose a little cross-dresser boy will be welcome if s/he comes out with a different set of family jewels.

feeling great (week 35)

everyone asks 'how are you feeling?' everyone assumes i'll start to suffer any time now. any time. tick tock. i'm also waiting and watching the calendar. this little boxing gym inside my belly seems to enjoy mealtime and being in bed, and now i know how those awkward american tourists in europe feel when they lamely wear their 20-lb. backpacks on their front sides because they're terrified someone will steal their Rick Steves guidebook and Notre Dame snow globe. at least they could take their damn pack off and make someone else carry it for a few hours.

i can't touch (or see) my toes, i have a difficult time bending over for any reason, i roll out of bed and off of couches, but otherwise i feel fine. appetite: normal. sleeping: normal. aches and pains: normal. no cankles, ugly veins, or obesity issues. my ass is a tad bit larger and i am guessing some stretch marks will appear after the fact, but my hair is thick and glow-y, my skin is clear and glow-y, my boobs remain huge, and i was able to spend three hours trimming bushes and mulching said trimmings on saturday. three hours of yard work at 35 weeks along, and i felt rockstar-ish. 

brick wall (week 35.5, or 10 minutes after i finished writing the above section)

what has happened to my easy pregnancy??!? mild discomfort has turned into discomfort. i am practically waddling. i have experienced this Braxton-Hicks thing where you feel like you've eaten 100 Thanksgiving dinners and the skin is going to simply tear open any second. i can't walk more than two miles without wanting an hour-long nap. i tried to help dan in the yard this weekend and almost died from watching him - it was exhausting. i still was able to haul wheelbarrows of branches to the compost, clean the hot tub, plant some shrubs, and sweep the porch, but i needed a two-hour nap right in the middle of the day. 

i am hungry, often. right now, in fact, i could probably eat a meal. i don't have a sweet tooth, but twice this week already i've had a milkshake. goodbye ankles. crap. 

i normally just have to pee once per night. this week 2-3 times a night, easy. at least i'm still sleeping well. i can't start that insomnia shit, i need all the shut-eye i can bank. 

also, this child has easily doubled in size overnight. she is literally jabbing her joints and appendages out of my belly, making painful lumps that are almost grab-able. i looked for bruises multiple times. none yet, but holy crap, she's kicking my abs, and it seems to be non-stop. i thought they were supposed to sleep in there at some point? i hope this isn't foreshadowing. 

things i wish i didn't ever have to say: 
  • i think i have a hemorrhoid 
saturday
  • dan: football is on, want a beer? me: i hate you.
panic, episode I

a few months ago my friend went into labor and i was on "team late-night babysit." i was watching her talk to the OB nurse and have contractions. it was pretty intense. i asked her husband whether or not it was too late for me to get off this one-way train to Laborville. he said, "sorry, you've got your ticket punched. see you in a few months." at the time it was amusing. 

a few weeks later, at the doctor's office, i was asked about a birth plan - did i plan to make one? i said, does Harry Potter deliver babies? a magic wand would be preferred. ha. ha. no dice. 

today, based on the advice of a friend, i packed a hospital bag. jammies, undies, toothbrush, other things you don't want me to list, car seat, baby outfit, diapers. i was about finished, sitting on the floor of my lovely little baby room, and out came a full-on panic attack. 

i actually almost started crying - holy f$*(@ i am having a F#*$ing KID in less than a MONTH and it has to come out of my VAGINA or be cut out of my BELLY and i will probably need an IV and there are NEEDLES and then what if something is WRONG and THEN THEY ARE GOING TO GIVE THIS THING TO ME AND TELL ME TO TAKE IT HOME FOR-EV-ER!!!!! $(*$*#(@#)!#*$_@@#*4!!!!!?!?!??!?!?!?

i still think i am in a mild state of panic right now, actually, but i just baked a cake. hungry.

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

home alone

after bath
monday morning:
i feel like dying. i can't breathe, my heart is tight, and all of my muscles ache. i went to the doctor and they wanted to test my O2 levels because of my long days of travel this weekend. the test is called a blood gas and that bitch from the lab stabs your arm with an ice pick so all of the nerves light up like electric shock treatments and your bicep cramps. then she comes back and says i'm within normal range. the test, i think, made my adrenaline spike, so i recovered. the doctor thinks it was mild altitude sickness from the airplane.

monday afternoon:
i've slept for four hours since 10 a.m. my muscles still ache. the dog is looking at me with sad eyes. he needs a walk. i can't walk. it's too hot.

monday evening:
i have enough energy to get on my bike and take the dog around the two-mile loop so he can stop putting his nasty, soggy stuffed rat toy on my leg in protest of his confinement. i get the leash, and around halfway through my journey, my front tire goes completely flat. the bike is in protest of my extra 20 pounds. stupid bike. the dog has success in his mission of pooping. these tiny gnats are swirling all around me and it's pitch black. i only have one mile to go.

3 minutes later:
AHRGAAAHAHAHGRH!!! A fucking gnat flew right into my eye. It feels like acid. I almost crash my bike into the grass. An oncoming car flashes its  brights in my good eye. Tears are streaming down my face as I claw at the invisible gnat corpse burning my cornea. I am out of water and can't flush it out. I'm not sure I'm going to make it home.

10 minutes later:
i am home. i never want to leave again.

tuesday, via an email i sent to dan:
subject: crushing my will to live
I wish I was joking, but I'm not. The yard is crushing my will to live. I need to fire the maids and get a gardener. I know how to clean toilets, I don't know how to get this invasive grass to stop growing throughout the landscaping or how to demolish the growing infestation of carpenter ants that thrive in our forest. I think mulch isn't just for looks, it's for weed prevention. We made a mistake by not heavy mulching this spring, and now it looks so white trash. We will now need chemicals, fire and then to mulch heavy next spring. It's awful. The bushes are overgrown. The mosquitoes are eating me alive. The hanging baskets are almost dead. The dove eggs died. Henry ran away and I had to poo, so I left him outside. I have no clue where he is. Come home. I'm getting desperate.

30 minutes later:
the neighbor kids return henry. he's happy to have  seen his three friends again. i want to kick him.

wednesday morning:
the upstairs toilet won't flush all the way. if i ignore it, it will probably fix itself.

wednesday afternoon:
i feel so much better than monday. little baby is stabbing me with her extra sharp heel every chance she gets, but it's nice to have company. time for a midday walk with henry, and he's happy, too. so happy, in fact that he ran to the back yard after our walk to celebrate by shoulder-dropping into a pile of fetid, rotting mystery goo that smelled worse than anything i've smelled on the last 10 dairy farms i've visited. it wasn't recognizable as a corpse, maybe the result of high-temperature, high-humidity decomposition of the afterbirth of a small mammal after three days in the sun. i resisted the gag reflex. i. can't. puke. now. i ushered him into the shower and tried to bend over with my huge belly in the way to scrub him as he resists water and soap. it's awkward, baby is unhappy. i am winded and covered in dog hair, but after lather, rinse, repeat, repeat, henry's back to normal. i wish he would run away again.

dan returns in six days.