The One With the Poison

Saturday was a super eventful day. Not nearly as eventful as I was hoping for it to be, but eventful none the less. Our doctor's appointment went well, it is true what they say I guess that you should expect to gain a pound a week at the end - kind of makes me want to gag whenever I step on that scale. . . . I really hope I never see those kind of numbers in my life unless I am pregnant. They are gross numbers that should not be put together. As long as I can remain smaller than Eric while I am pregnant, somehow that feels okay. . . .

So weight good, blood pressure good, everything good.

"You having contractions?"

"Yes, just like I have been."

"Ah so they're probably not doing anything. . . . we won't even check you this week. I think you may make it to your scheduled date!"

The doctor said this with a little smirk and secretly I wanted to smack his 2010 Treasure Valley's Most Handsome Doctor face!!! I may make it to my due date? Okay doc, let's get one thing straight. It was you that told me from the very beginning of this pregnancy that you didn't think there was anyway I'd make it to Christmas. It was you that said you didn't think I'd make it out of the first couple weeks of December. Well guess what doc?!?! We're through the first few weeks of December, and realistically if this baby doesn't come out tomorrow, I don't know that I so much care to have him until my scheduled c-section -- I'm really unfond of the idea of being in the hospital on Christmas Eve OR Christmas Day and not being able to spend it with my family. So how bout in the future, doc, you make sure never to get a pregnant lady's hopes up by telling her that her pregnancy will be any shorter than 40 weeks unless you are willing to do the c-section I've been begging you to do for weeks now early. Umm K?!!?!?! And don't smirk at me about it, I don't like it. I feel like you've done something to me that is making me stay pregnant. You sewed everything shut last time, didn't you?

Next thought - well doc, at our 20 week ultrasound they said something about my cervix being 4 cm thick even though they usually like to see it at a 2, is that maybe why all these contractions aren't doing much? No, he says, actually that's a sign of pre-term labor . . . . oh so it really is that God just doesn't love me then? I have all the signs of pre-term labor, without a pre-term labor. That's just rude!!!

Then doc says that at our next appointment in a week he will check for sure and see if there's really any chance we will have this baby before Christmas. Well our appointment is set up for Thursday - right before Christmas. He says if I am dilated to a 3ish they will just take the baby out that day. This isn't too exciting for me and I'm seriously debating whether or not I want to PRAY that I will be dilated at all. Really? Having a birthday on the 22 seems like a lame day. WAY too close to Christmas - no one will want to celebrate it! Although I'm really not sure if it is any worse or any better than having him on the 29th like is scheduled . . . debatable topic. Also, if we were to go in for a c-section on the 22nd, I would be guaranteed to not be out until Christmas Day at least, meaning no Christmas Eve festivities, and although I have been telling my family this entire time that I want them to bring everything down to my room and do Christmas presents there - I'm really starting to doubt the actuality of them doing it . . . . . or if I am really mean enough to FORCE them to do it.

On the other hand, if I make it to Thursday and he says yup you're dilated chances are I would just end up in L&D on Christmas day anyways. So really it's a toss up. I want this pregnancy done, especially after the weekend from hell I am about to inform you of, but I just can't make up my mind on whether to pray for Thursday or just wait until next Thursday. Another thought happened across my mind last night. I was sitting in bed talking to the awesome hubby and it hit me - If this is really going to be the last kid we have, there is this huge part of me that wants to go into labor by myself just to feel it one last time.

Sounds strange, right? Yeah, i know. It really is strange, I'm not even sure why I'd hope for that, but somehow I do. I guess I feel like it means I accomplished something maybe, I don't even know. But I had that thought, and that seems to really describe my feelings about this child.

My second feelings about this child is that he is already my least favorite.

Now while this may seem premature and highly rude of me to already have this fetus at the bottom of my list of three kids let me explain. Parker was induced a week early, we had Preslie 3 weeks early, as of this Sunday, if I am still pregnant then, this will be the LONGEST I have been pregnant with ANY of our kids. Being pregnant . . . . ya ya I know everyone talks about how it's this amazing, beautiful, wonderful thing. . . . but let's face it, the only thing truly wonderful about it is that at the end of an extremely long ten months, there's a child at the end of it. That's about it.

Call me bitter.

Seriously, you can.

But I'm just not one of those women who LOVES being pregnant. In the beginning it's like, oh I can't wait until I start to show!!! And then that very quickly turns into man I wish I wasn't so fat!!!!

And in the beginning you enjoy rubbing all that lotion that is supposed to prevent stretch marks all over your tummy, in fact you're so excited to begin using it, that you start using it before you even really need to. Then it turns into - why the hell am I even rubbing this on my stomach it's obviously not working, $16 a bottle and my stomach still looks like a bengal tiger. Sure it's fun to get maternity clothes, it's even more fun when those maternity clothes start being to small. And it's fun to feel a baby start to move . . . . for about a month, and then when all you have is heels in your rib cage, fists punching your bladder, and a head pressing against your cervix (but not actually making it change) you contemplate why you ever wanted to start feeling the bugger moving around anyways. All the burping and heartburn and lack of sleep, lack of ability to get close to anyone, lack of the capability to snuggle your super hot hubby etc etc etc is worth it once you finally squeeze out the kid - or in our case once the kid is sliced effectively out of your stomach - but during the nine months I just don't find it all that amazing.

Yes call me crazy all you want.

So aside from the fact that it does appear this child will indeed have the gestation period of a small elephant, he also has made me sick. Read on . . .

So as I said in the beginning, Saturday was a productive day. We got up, got the house cleaned up, and set out to finish the VERY finishing touches on Christmas so that we could get presents sent up to Oregon, wrapped for family down here, and be DONE completely. A nice person at Eric's work gave him all these super great coupons to Carl's Jr - yeah they proved to be super great - so we decided to hit them up for lunch for the family. Ate some hamburger's, went and bought some more clothes for child who has yet to make his appearance, braved WalMart, Home Depot, AND World Market, and then went home finally for the evening. Well get into bed later, and I could not get comfortable, I just couldn't fall asleep. Weirdest feeling ever, my stomach didn't hurt, I didn't necessarily feel sick, I just couldn't get comfortable enough to fall asleep despite the sleeping pills I had taken. I also kept burping, like every 10 seconds, which is really gross in general but takes on a slightly grosser sound when I tell you it tasted like the hamburgers I had eaten for lunch - YUCK!

About one o'clock rolls around and I am so tired, and so uncomfortable, and so tired of not being able to sleep that I jump on the genius idea to get in the bath. The hubs is sleeping, so I eventually heave my body out of bed by myself and make it into the bathroom where I sit in a very warm bath - which is how I like them.

Not long into it, and I begin to have that familiar feeling of THROW UP. Once again, not a stomach ache, just the idea that I'm about ready to lose what little bit is left of lunch in my stomach. And then there it comes. Awesome heaving of some great gastric stew ALL over the bath. Eric came in about the seventh heave as I was starting to drain the water. Poor guy, no one should have to witness the aftermath of a pregnant woman throwing up everywhere.

And let me just say this. It has been years since I have thrown up, probably close to two. Not that I haven't had my fair share of throwing up in my day though. But here's one thing to think about - what color is your throw up? Sounds like a weird question right? It probably is, but for whatever reason it's always been extremely interesting to me. I've had brown, orange, even more brown, I even had one case where it came up as green as pea soup, complete with ham bits and everything (which would have made sense if I had eaten pea soup beforehand, but I hadn't) but I have never in my life had FUSCHIA colored throw up.

Apparently my gastric juices have taken on a diva-esque vibe.

Well naturally, after throwing up I feel MUCH better. That's usually the case. So I take another bath to get cleaned of my puke covered skin, then get dressed and go back to bed. That whole event took place from about 1-2 in the morning. Well 3 o'clock on the nose I wake up again, all uncomfortable and not able to get to sleep, so I go in and make a bed on the floor of the bathroom, sure that once again I'm about ready to throw up. And then eventually it happens. And then it happens a third time, and then a fourth. All spaced pretty evenly apart, and all with a feeling afterwards of "this will be the last time". Finally I had Eric give me a blessing, because I honestly felt like I was going to die.

Let me just try to explain. Throwing up is not fun, obviously, sure you feel a million times better after you actually do it, but it's not fun during the process. I have thrown up enough times to know that there seems to be a FINITE difference between throwing up from the flu and throwing up from food poisoning.

With the flu, it's just like HUH!! and you throw up, and it's kind of dainty, and just feels like your stomach is in knots, and then you throw up once and it's over.

With food poisoning it's different. It's like with every heave your body is ripping apart, and your stomach is reaching down into your intestines to pull stuff out for you to spew into the toilet. It's violent, it's terrible. I would WAY rather throw up from being nauseas with a baby or the flu than food poisoning.

Now add to that heaving, to the depths of your large intestine, ripping out of your innards the fact that I am pregnant, and therefore, consequently, have practically no stomach muscles to aid in the throwing up process. That means, I do believe, that I literally at one point had small intestine hanging out of my mouth as that was the only way to drain it of the poison that had no doubt taken over. Add to this situation again the fact that I had taken a sleeping pill and you get the trifecta of no bueno-ness. It was hideous.

Well this time, I was pretty positive it was food poisoning. About six o'clock I finally got into bed and was able to fall asleep until about nine. Eric was great, he came in every time he heard me and stood by me holding my hair, rubbing my back, calling L&D to see if we needed to be concerned or come in, and I thought all of this was so sweet.

Until I remembered the part where Eric thinks it's HILARIOUS to watch other people throw up.

I'm still undecided on if his interest in my throwing up was one of pure concern or one of pure hilarity.

Let's fast forward this a little bit. I spent practically all of Sunday in bed, feeling like death. Not to mention the fact that all that heaving had apparently started some kind of contractions as I had them most of the day. While I really want this child out, the last thing I wanted to do was go in and have a c-section feeling like the absolute death iced over that I did. So luckily they stopped and Sunday night I got some good sleep.

Well I was pretty sure that I had food poisoning.

After Parker's upchucking last night, I'm not so sure. Although he seemed to have a little bit more of the 24 hour flu bug in that he threw up, twice, but then went to bed and is great today. I also had the flu shot, which I know is not a guarantee that I won't get one of the other fifty million strains of the flu that is no doubt swimming through our community, and it does seem strange that I could get food poisoning and then Parker could get the flu two nights later, but I guess anything is possible.
Worst idea now is that Eric and Preslie are next. Eric can handle it, big tough man that he is. But I HATE seeing Preslie sick, HATE IT! Probably because of flashbacks to the hospital stays and everything, even worse though is that she's so little that she doesn't really understand. To Parker I can say, hey if you throw up, lean over this bowl - that won't happen with Preslie, and the whole time she'll just be looking at me for some sort of help which I won't be able to give her.

In any case, pray for our family that Parker and I are the only two that get it, and that somehow all the Lysol I've been spraying everywhere, and the massive amounts of cleaning/disinfecting will work and that no one else will be sick for Christmas.

In other news - for those of you that have been waiting for a belly picture of me, here it is.