Ladies. Let's be frank with one another. Stretch marks are hideous. Even if you luck into having the little ones that don't create purple canyons in your flesh, they aren't pretty.
Did you notice your ass? Does it have some new features on it? No? Mine, either. (blink)
Women have a way of putting a spin on things that supposedly help us remain positive. I want to be one of the first to say this: Stretch marks suck. They aren't the "marks of motherhood" Nor, are they some physically demonstrative exemplar of survival and pain.
No. No. No. Stretch marks are simply our skin's inability to grow fast enough with the parasite in our wombs. Hey! I thought we were being honest here?
I have them. Light ones that are "below crack level" on my ass. Then, I have some on the low-low part of my belly. Then, I have one on each side - like I just needed just two millimeters of additional skin on each side. That's it. But, I suspect, they will grow like the Grand Canyon - except that instead of millions of years, these pop up like surprise lilies. (Don't get that reference? Look it up. These also suck.)
The truth is - no one can really control stretch marks. There is no magic cream or elixir for this malady. Instead, you can blame your mother. Really. It's her fault for passing on your shitty skin genes. Go get her, tiger!
Monday, September 30, 2013
HAPPY LIST.
This post is exactly what it sounds like. . a list of stuff that I can be happy about despite feeling physically exhausted, waking up to chunks of stomach acid in my mouth and throat, and being a goddamn emotional wreck.
1. I have it to 32 weeks. That is something I never thought I would get to type / say / submit. It is overwhelming knowing that if my boy were to be born RIGHT NOW, he wouldn't spend endless months in the NICU. . rather a likely 3 or 4 weeks.
2. There is no doubt that I am pregnant. When my Brother In Law and his fiance visited last night, even blacked out sunglasses wouldn't have been able to hide their wide eyes on my belly. In the meantime, I am still looking for the perfect excuse to have the following conversation:
Nosey Parker: "When are you due?"
Me: "Due for what?"
OR
Me: "Oh, I had the baby 6 months ago!"
OR
Me: "Next July"
3. Even though they feel like they are going to explode, my ta-tas look GOOD.
4. Pregnancy makes me the dessert aficionado that I never was before because I couldn't stand sweets. Now, I just have to say. . "OMG. German Chocolate Cake!"
5. Sons of Anarchy has been on for a few weeks. . . and The Walking Dead starts soon! OMG. These are NOT child-friendly shows!
6. The Hub is aware of my desperate need to travel when I become un-pregnant. We already have two trips planned before May 2014: one Road Trip and one FLIGHT. When the latter happens, I suspect I will be posting details.
7. It was cool enough to make Baked Mostaccioli last night. Did I mention how rigoddamndiculously hungry I have been??
8. Blogger is trying to replace "Mostaccioli" with "Molestation" I just inhaled a gulp of water.
I hope your week goes well. You know where I'll be.
1. I have it to 32 weeks. That is something I never thought I would get to type / say / submit. It is overwhelming knowing that if my boy were to be born RIGHT NOW, he wouldn't spend endless months in the NICU. . rather a likely 3 or 4 weeks.
2. There is no doubt that I am pregnant. When my Brother In Law and his fiance visited last night, even blacked out sunglasses wouldn't have been able to hide their wide eyes on my belly. In the meantime, I am still looking for the perfect excuse to have the following conversation:
Nosey Parker: "When are you due?"
Me: "Due for what?"
OR
Me: "Oh, I had the baby 6 months ago!"
OR
Me: "Next July"
3. Even though they feel like they are going to explode, my ta-tas look GOOD.
4. Pregnancy makes me the dessert aficionado that I never was before because I couldn't stand sweets. Now, I just have to say. . "OMG. German Chocolate Cake!"
5. Sons of Anarchy has been on for a few weeks. . . and The Walking Dead starts soon! OMG. These are NOT child-friendly shows!
6. The Hub is aware of my desperate need to travel when I become un-pregnant. We already have two trips planned before May 2014: one Road Trip and one FLIGHT. When the latter happens, I suspect I will be posting details.
7. It was cool enough to make Baked Mostaccioli last night. Did I mention how rigoddamndiculously hungry I have been??
8. Blogger is trying to replace "Mostaccioli" with "Molestation" I just inhaled a gulp of water.
I hope your week goes well. You know where I'll be.
IT COMES IN WAVES.
Pregnancy is just like everything else. . . a cycle. In the beginning, you feel like shit. At some point, you start to feel like a normal, albeit puffier person. Then, the world topples again and you find yourself repeating the original shit. Last night, when I was forced to sleep in a slightly reclined position on the couch because of the case of the vomits I had, I thought of this. I just keep telling myself it is not a cycle without end. Right?
Last year, I used 6 weeks of FMLA on my maternity leave. Now, I come to find out that my FMLA has run its course (12 weeks in any 12 month period) and I am now left exposed and vulnerable to losing my job. So, I spent the entire morning contacting both the administrator for my Short Term Disability and my own company's HR to determine what I should do. In the end, I was told by HR that only my direct supervisor could trigger a termination at the end of FMLA - and while my supervisor is currently on a two week vacation in Europe - I know I am safe. So, I will return to work on October 21st and work until I go into labor. Depending on my delivery method (is it too late to lay an egg?), I will have with 6 or 8 weeks or Short Term Disability and then I can file for Personal Leave of Absence - so that I can take an additional stretch of maternity leave using my PTO. That is the plan.
I spent the greater per of the morning feeling shitty and sitting on hold for seemingly endless amounts of time. Then, it was all over and I had answers and decisions made. It *is* all a cycle.
Last year, I used 6 weeks of FMLA on my maternity leave. Now, I come to find out that my FMLA has run its course (12 weeks in any 12 month period) and I am now left exposed and vulnerable to losing my job. So, I spent the entire morning contacting both the administrator for my Short Term Disability and my own company's HR to determine what I should do. In the end, I was told by HR that only my direct supervisor could trigger a termination at the end of FMLA - and while my supervisor is currently on a two week vacation in Europe - I know I am safe. So, I will return to work on October 21st and work until I go into labor. Depending on my delivery method (is it too late to lay an egg?), I will have with 6 or 8 weeks or Short Term Disability and then I can file for Personal Leave of Absence - so that I can take an additional stretch of maternity leave using my PTO. That is the plan.
I spent the greater per of the morning feeling shitty and sitting on hold for seemingly endless amounts of time. Then, it was all over and I had answers and decisions made. It *is* all a cycle.
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
DRAFT IS MORE POTENT.
I dreamed that I was breastfeeding. I'm pretty sure it was my child, but he had a wonky shaped head and was blond. That won't happen, I'm pretty sure. The blond part. He could totally have a wonky shaped head that requires a super expensive helmet to correct. But, we will just hope against that.
Anyway. I was breastfeeding a blond child with a wonky shaped head and I could FEEL it. It was awkward and bond-establishing at the same time. We even switched it up and hit the back-up boob for good measure. All the while, I was thinking about how large he was and if we should just skip the colostrum. I'm a great mom already.
So, the point of this story is that when I woke up, my boobs felt like they had been mauled by some very thirsty coyotes. Gross? Yeah. You should have to suffer my boobage lately.
You're welcome.
Anyway. I was breastfeeding a blond child with a wonky shaped head and I could FEEL it. It was awkward and bond-establishing at the same time. We even switched it up and hit the back-up boob for good measure. All the while, I was thinking about how large he was and if we should just skip the colostrum. I'm a great mom already.
So, the point of this story is that when I woke up, my boobs felt like they had been mauled by some very thirsty coyotes. Gross? Yeah. You should have to suffer my boobage lately.
You're welcome.
Monday, September 23, 2013
TIMES, THEY ARE A CHANGIN'
Today brings with is all of the hopes and dreams of 31 weeks of pregnancy. . .
Who am I kidding? It also brings a child who barely fits "in there", insatiable hunger, and exhaustion.
I haven't been good, in the past few weeks, of updating properly, so let's do that now:
* If I am still pregnant on October 21, I will be allowed to work from home again. This might prove to be a dumb exploit considering all of the password and account accesses I will have to unlock to work when I will get "un-cerclaged" the following week and will likely go into labor. I'm excited, none the less.
* My tits feel like little bombs of shit. My nipples look ready to walk on their own.
* I am sleeping very poorly and a minute nap in the afternoon isn't making up for it. I am peeing more than ever and I'm pretty sure I made three trips in 30 minutes last night. Of course, it may just be that I can't keep track of time at 2am on an already dearth of sleep.
* The Hub is doing well. He is still applying for jobs and doing his best to be patient. I am proud of him.
* Per some research, I have found that in order to have your child "christened" in the Catholic Church, it requires a class and some signatures that will give the Church sufficient proof that your child has a good chance of being raised Catholic. Know what's not going to happen, folks? Heavy discussion with the Hub is bound to ensue - but, I'm pretty sure we will raise our child in the love of God and with a firm understanding of right and wrong. I don't need a church to do that for me. Anyway - appeasing in-laws isn't a good enough reason to "christen" a child. I think a baby blessing is much more suitable.
* The stretch marks are here. They aren't crazy. Yet. But, I have a feeling they will grow. Currently, they reside on the underside of my belly. I can hardly see them in the mirror - but I have a feeling that the shade cast by my gut is blotting out the sufficient light by which to examine them properly.
* Last week, I had a TDaP. That stands for Tetanus, Diphtheria and Pertussis. I just want to warn you: this shit doesn't hurt going in but I'll be damned if my shoulder didn't hurt for the two days after. The more important piece of the vaccination is for Pertussis. As an adult, we carry but are not heavily affected by Whooping Cough. However, this rather annoying illness can kill babies. So get it. Your partner, too. Grandma thinks she's going to hold the baby a lot? Make her get one, too. It won't hurt anything but their shoulder. Trust me. It is a good thing. Make those old people work for the privilege of fawning over their grandchild.
* Speaking of shots, I am going to head to my neighborhood CVS and get my flu shot for the year next weekend.
* This pregnancy belly is giving me a new understanding of just how large my normal clothing is. Today, I am sporting a MIZZOU shirt that I wear un-pregnant. It works just fine with some room for more belly. Clearly, I am not a Large and should invest some $$ in better fitting clothes when this is all over.
So. . that about wraps up my update list. I hope to have more to discuss later this week. Right now, however, I feel like I need to shower before I am too tired and drown in it.
Who am I kidding? It also brings a child who barely fits "in there", insatiable hunger, and exhaustion.
I haven't been good, in the past few weeks, of updating properly, so let's do that now:
* If I am still pregnant on October 21, I will be allowed to work from home again. This might prove to be a dumb exploit considering all of the password and account accesses I will have to unlock to work when I will get "un-cerclaged" the following week and will likely go into labor. I'm excited, none the less.
* My tits feel like little bombs of shit. My nipples look ready to walk on their own.
* I am sleeping very poorly and a minute nap in the afternoon isn't making up for it. I am peeing more than ever and I'm pretty sure I made three trips in 30 minutes last night. Of course, it may just be that I can't keep track of time at 2am on an already dearth of sleep.
* The Hub is doing well. He is still applying for jobs and doing his best to be patient. I am proud of him.
* Per some research, I have found that in order to have your child "christened" in the Catholic Church, it requires a class and some signatures that will give the Church sufficient proof that your child has a good chance of being raised Catholic. Know what's not going to happen, folks? Heavy discussion with the Hub is bound to ensue - but, I'm pretty sure we will raise our child in the love of God and with a firm understanding of right and wrong. I don't need a church to do that for me. Anyway - appeasing in-laws isn't a good enough reason to "christen" a child. I think a baby blessing is much more suitable.
* The stretch marks are here. They aren't crazy. Yet. But, I have a feeling they will grow. Currently, they reside on the underside of my belly. I can hardly see them in the mirror - but I have a feeling that the shade cast by my gut is blotting out the sufficient light by which to examine them properly.
* Last week, I had a TDaP. That stands for Tetanus, Diphtheria and Pertussis. I just want to warn you: this shit doesn't hurt going in but I'll be damned if my shoulder didn't hurt for the two days after. The more important piece of the vaccination is for Pertussis. As an adult, we carry but are not heavily affected by Whooping Cough. However, this rather annoying illness can kill babies. So get it. Your partner, too. Grandma thinks she's going to hold the baby a lot? Make her get one, too. It won't hurt anything but their shoulder. Trust me. It is a good thing. Make those old people work for the privilege of fawning over their grandchild.
* Speaking of shots, I am going to head to my neighborhood CVS and get my flu shot for the year next weekend.
* This pregnancy belly is giving me a new understanding of just how large my normal clothing is. Today, I am sporting a MIZZOU shirt that I wear un-pregnant. It works just fine with some room for more belly. Clearly, I am not a Large and should invest some $$ in better fitting clothes when this is all over.
So. . that about wraps up my update list. I hope to have more to discuss later this week. Right now, however, I feel like I need to shower before I am too tired and drown in it.
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
IN LIVING COLOR.
One of the things that all of the pregnancy books will tell you (but not expound on) is a change in skin coloration. I'm sure this ranks up there on the list of things that you should know a little about - but too much would scare women (kind of like the episiotomy chapter.)
Most of the books will tell you that you can expect some change in skin color. . . Your usually hidden belly seam, for example, turns darker and more prevalent. But, other stuff occurs. . .
My "sun spots" have multiplied and I can guarantee I haven't spent much time in the sun this summer. The ones that usually freckle my skin are now darker and a little more pronounced. Then, there are their progeny(?) that have sprouted up. I suspect that with un-pregnancy, they will disappear again.
The most wacky change, however, has to be my underarm coloration. Seriously, I think someone replaced my normal deodorant with a stick of poop. My pits look dingy and if I didn't know better, I would have already tried 150 grit sandpaper on them.
Speaking of color, I have sprouted a few stretch-marks and have been surprised just how upsetting they are. I am hopeful that they shrink with time. Please, sweet Moses, please!?
For now, I accept that in addition to my blooming, burgeoning belly, my petals are teeming with color. Because I'm a delicate flower. Right.
Most of the books will tell you that you can expect some change in skin color. . . Your usually hidden belly seam, for example, turns darker and more prevalent. But, other stuff occurs. . .
My "sun spots" have multiplied and I can guarantee I haven't spent much time in the sun this summer. The ones that usually freckle my skin are now darker and a little more pronounced. Then, there are their progeny(?) that have sprouted up. I suspect that with un-pregnancy, they will disappear again.
The most wacky change, however, has to be my underarm coloration. Seriously, I think someone replaced my normal deodorant with a stick of poop. My pits look dingy and if I didn't know better, I would have already tried 150 grit sandpaper on them.
Speaking of color, I have sprouted a few stretch-marks and have been surprised just how upsetting they are. I am hopeful that they shrink with time. Please, sweet Moses, please!?
For now, I accept that in addition to my blooming, burgeoning belly, my petals are teeming with color. Because I'm a delicate flower. Right.
Monday, September 16, 2013
DIRTY THIRTY.
This week is going to be difficult. I'm not being negative. I'm being factual. Wednesday is my baby girl's first birthday. So far, I am still in one piece. I'm sure the cracks will start to show soon enough.
So, to celebrate my survival through this fist day of a horrible week, here are some things that you should know. . .
* My tits feel like they are full of cement - heavy and lumpy. Sexy, right?
* It has officially happened. I am more tired of being pregnant than I am worried about a preterm birth.
* Kick counts are relatively painless for me. This kid is so active that it usually only takes a couple minutes to feel 10 movements. I will be surprised if he doesn't start walking immediately after birth. Almost.
* Why would you wake a sleeping baby to feed? I say, if you are worried for your milk production, pump while he sleeps. Seriously.
* My dreams are more and more disturbing. Usually, they are metaphors for my inability to properly "incubate" my daughter. Last night, it was the total ruin of my childhood memories. Great.
* In addition to my normal contractions, I am feeling pressure "down there." I don't feel "open for business" but definitely feel pressure. If it doesn't let up, I will call my OB tomorrow.
Yeah. If I could get through late October, I would be elated (read: 35 weeks). Today, I am not feeling the possibility.
Chins up, people. It can always be worse.
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
I GONE AND DONE IT.
This weekend, I was stir crazy. More than usual. A lot. My Hub's life was in danger.
When life gets you down and you feel like there is nothing "winning" about your situation, the universe tends to throw you a bone. It's probably going to be small, like getting stuck in your throat small, but it is worth celebrating anyway. .
The Hub and I found a high end baby store that is closing for business. This is amazing news since this is the one store in a 100 mile radius that offers products from Arms Reach - specifically a co sleeper.
Now, before you get all crazy and assume that I will be letting my child sleep in my bed until he is 8, let me set you straight. . . the co sleeper is a bassinet that can either stand alone or stand flush against my bed's mattress - allowing me easy access to nurse in the middle of the night without bumbling around a dark room. Our plan is to use the bassinet in either of its functions for a few months before moving our child to his own crib in his own room. Better? (As if my kid would sleep in my bed. . we all know that with my thrashing, he would be crushed in hours!)
For the cost of one of the cheaper co sleepers, the Hub and I managed to procure a higher end model, two sheets, a mattress protector, an additional organic mattress, two blankets (for car seat cover) and a toddler booster seat. Seriously. "We done good."
In fact, I think the Hub is stopping back through to see if there is still a crib / toddler bed mattress left - as when we researched it at home, it is top of the line and at a really great price.
Yes. I am gloating just to gloat. With all of the shit I have been through with this pregnancy, I feel like I can get away with it. You can deal. =)
When life gets you down and you feel like there is nothing "winning" about your situation, the universe tends to throw you a bone. It's probably going to be small, like getting stuck in your throat small, but it is worth celebrating anyway. .
The Hub and I found a high end baby store that is closing for business. This is amazing news since this is the one store in a 100 mile radius that offers products from Arms Reach - specifically a co sleeper.
Now, before you get all crazy and assume that I will be letting my child sleep in my bed until he is 8, let me set you straight. . . the co sleeper is a bassinet that can either stand alone or stand flush against my bed's mattress - allowing me easy access to nurse in the middle of the night without bumbling around a dark room. Our plan is to use the bassinet in either of its functions for a few months before moving our child to his own crib in his own room. Better? (As if my kid would sleep in my bed. . we all know that with my thrashing, he would be crushed in hours!)
For the cost of one of the cheaper co sleepers, the Hub and I managed to procure a higher end model, two sheets, a mattress protector, an additional organic mattress, two blankets (for car seat cover) and a toddler booster seat. Seriously. "We done good."
In fact, I think the Hub is stopping back through to see if there is still a crib / toddler bed mattress left - as when we researched it at home, it is top of the line and at a really great price.
Yes. I am gloating just to gloat. With all of the shit I have been through with this pregnancy, I feel like I can get away with it. You can deal. =)
Friday, September 6, 2013
ONLY WAY TO GO IS DOWN.
It has been a rough couple of days.
The Hub feels helpless because while he can complete menial tasks such as laundry and tidying our home, he can't help me physically with anything. I am betting it is worse than the normal feeling that partners get during a pregnancy. I am essentially a giant, brooding baby armed with curse words bigger than handfuls of poo.
In the beginning, we agreed that the only information that would be passed to parents would be specifically chosen. Our respective jobs were to control the parental intrusions (read: How is Suzi doing? How is the baby doing? How was your appointment? What is going on!??!$?)
Someone didn't do his job. And, he was lambasted for it. And told he would be excluded from future OB appointments for his inability to keep his mouth shut.
This exclusion was not rescinded. But, there was a 1am make-up conversation.
My ire may not be justifiable, but it is how I currently feel. I find it akin to keeping parents out of the labor and delivery room. Folks, I might not have much shame left in me, but I am perfectly happy to keep my Mum and my in-laws the fuck out of my junk. As we get closer to delivery, I feel the same about my business. Mama Bear is gaining momentum after a LONG winter's sleep. The current plan is to take off out of town immediately after birth to avoid people. Is that awful or what???
To top off all of this neurotic shit, we are slowly edging closer and closer to our Daughter's Day. I'm sure this isn't helping anything - but we are aware of it and are think we are ready.
We stopped off at a baby store, after our appointment, and I nearly bought something. Then, I realized that I wasn't ready and we left. Grieving for a lost infant takes a long time and impacts more than you would think.
As we get closer and closer to Mira's birthday, I feel like we are climbing the ladder of a giant slide. It is scary, the higher we get and the more wobbly the platforms feel. As we reach the precipice, we realize the awkwardness of trying to back down the ladder and the only way to go is down the slide. Screaming and laughing through all of the terribleness.
The Hub feels helpless because while he can complete menial tasks such as laundry and tidying our home, he can't help me physically with anything. I am betting it is worse than the normal feeling that partners get during a pregnancy. I am essentially a giant, brooding baby armed with curse words bigger than handfuls of poo.
In the beginning, we agreed that the only information that would be passed to parents would be specifically chosen. Our respective jobs were to control the parental intrusions (read: How is Suzi doing? How is the baby doing? How was your appointment? What is going on!??!$?)
Someone didn't do his job. And, he was lambasted for it. And told he would be excluded from future OB appointments for his inability to keep his mouth shut.
This exclusion was not rescinded. But, there was a 1am make-up conversation.
My ire may not be justifiable, but it is how I currently feel. I find it akin to keeping parents out of the labor and delivery room. Folks, I might not have much shame left in me, but I am perfectly happy to keep my Mum and my in-laws the fuck out of my junk. As we get closer to delivery, I feel the same about my business. Mama Bear is gaining momentum after a LONG winter's sleep. The current plan is to take off out of town immediately after birth to avoid people. Is that awful or what???
To top off all of this neurotic shit, we are slowly edging closer and closer to our Daughter's Day. I'm sure this isn't helping anything - but we are aware of it and are think we are ready.
We stopped off at a baby store, after our appointment, and I nearly bought something. Then, I realized that I wasn't ready and we left. Grieving for a lost infant takes a long time and impacts more than you would think.
As we get closer and closer to Mira's birthday, I feel like we are climbing the ladder of a giant slide. It is scary, the higher we get and the more wobbly the platforms feel. As we reach the precipice, we realize the awkwardness of trying to back down the ladder and the only way to go is down the slide. Screaming and laughing through all of the terribleness.
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
FOOTLOOSE AND FANCY FREE.
Yesterday marked 28 weeks. And for the most part, it was boring as fuck.
There wasn't anything that I could do and what made it all worse was that the weather was an absolutely beautiful follow-up to a week of Hell on Earth.
To help soothe my ass-hurt feelings and expectations of summer, here is a list of things I am happy / excited / hopeful / (insert some other hopelessly positive word here) about:
* It has been a full week since my last visit to the hospital. If my record serves me well, I have another two weeks of freedom.
* Some good friends (read: "other" parents) sent me 1001 New York Times Crosswords in a book. It took me a while, but I finished the first one. By the time this baby grows up and has a job of his own, I bet I will still have some left to complete.
* My Mum came for a visit today and we had come Chinese Food. I introduced her to the St. Louis favorite St. Paul Sandwich. I'm pretty sure you can't get it anywhere else. Picture this: Your favorite Egg Foo Young (sans the gravy) on white bread with Lettuce, Pickle, Tomato and Mayo. You know you want it.
* The September 14th Picnic "For No Reason" is still ON. True, I will just sit there and bark orders at everyone, but it will be a good time and I will be out of the house.
* Receiving gifts makes me uneasy. My favorite thing is to buy my Hub awesome shit that he would never buy for himself. Recently, I found out that one of my good friends is a dealer of something that is easily one of my Hub's favorite things. My plan is to buy one of said things for my Hub and have it delivered to our home the day we come home with the baby. I can't tell you what it is - on the off chance that the Hub reads this. I'm not a fan of the "push present" that is often given to new mothers. But, I am huge fan of the "servitude swag" that is given when a Hub is especially outstanding at taking care of a woman on bed rest.
I am taking these positive points as a solid sign that I am settling into bed rest. It doesn't mean that bed rest is any easier, but that I have found constructive things to think about while I am trapped here. In comparison with the last several weeks, I am "Movin' Right Along"
There wasn't anything that I could do and what made it all worse was that the weather was an absolutely beautiful follow-up to a week of Hell on Earth.
To help soothe my ass-hurt feelings and expectations of summer, here is a list of things I am happy / excited / hopeful / (insert some other hopelessly positive word here) about:
* It has been a full week since my last visit to the hospital. If my record serves me well, I have another two weeks of freedom.
* Some good friends (read: "other" parents) sent me 1001 New York Times Crosswords in a book. It took me a while, but I finished the first one. By the time this baby grows up and has a job of his own, I bet I will still have some left to complete.
* My Mum came for a visit today and we had come Chinese Food. I introduced her to the St. Louis favorite St. Paul Sandwich. I'm pretty sure you can't get it anywhere else. Picture this: Your favorite Egg Foo Young (sans the gravy) on white bread with Lettuce, Pickle, Tomato and Mayo. You know you want it.
* The September 14th Picnic "For No Reason" is still ON. True, I will just sit there and bark orders at everyone, but it will be a good time and I will be out of the house.
* Receiving gifts makes me uneasy. My favorite thing is to buy my Hub awesome shit that he would never buy for himself. Recently, I found out that one of my good friends is a dealer of something that is easily one of my Hub's favorite things. My plan is to buy one of said things for my Hub and have it delivered to our home the day we come home with the baby. I can't tell you what it is - on the off chance that the Hub reads this. I'm not a fan of the "push present" that is often given to new mothers. But, I am huge fan of the "servitude swag" that is given when a Hub is especially outstanding at taking care of a woman on bed rest.
I am taking these positive points as a solid sign that I am settling into bed rest. It doesn't mean that bed rest is any easier, but that I have found constructive things to think about while I am trapped here. In comparison with the last several weeks, I am "Movin' Right Along"
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