geeksmakemehot.com

I’m changing all my screen names. I’ll no longer be geeksmakemehot, I’ll be emopregnantchick. It is a little more fitting these days. Seriously, wtf is up with hormones. I have enough to worry about right now without worrying if I’m going to start bawling if someone looks at me wrong, or go off on someone that asks me a simple question. Losing my sanity has, so far, been the worst part of pregnancy.

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Yes, I’ve been cranky now and then through my pregnancy. Hell, I’m cranky now and then not being pregnant. But since I got sick with the pneumonia and had to stay in the hospital, my mood/attitude/sanity has went down the drain. The last hospital room I was in (yes, I was moved 6 different times in 12 days) was small and the walls were painted this gray blue color. It snowed a few days, rained the others, so the room was so dark and gloomy. Because the hospital was 2.5 - 3 hours from our town and Mitchell had to work and go to class, I was by myself most of the time these last few days. Being alone didn’t help. I was in isolation, which meant I could not leave my room. I cried constantly. I begged every nurse, doctor, food server, house keeper that come in my room to just let me go home. The last night Mitchell came to visit me, I was finally allowed out of my room. He pushed me around the hospital in my wheelchair just to get me out of the room. It was amazing how good it felt to just get away from that room for an hour. He also brought my laptop to me that night (yay for wifi hospitals), so I finally was able to connect to the rest of the world for a bit. Then he had to leave, and I was stuck again until they would dismiss me. Oh, I had a birthday in the middle of this.

12 days after I went to meet my OB at the hospital because of my fever, I was allowed to go home. My mother and grandmother came to pick me up. The only problem, in order for me to go home I had to use home IV antibiotics for another week. Coming home was not relaxing at all. I had to schedule times for home health nurses to come by, figure out how to administer my own IVs (I had a picc line inserted at the hospital so I did not have to sick myself) and work my IV schedule into returning to work. I had to get up at 2am every morning to lay the bag of medicine out of the refrigerator, 3am to start the iv, 4am to finish and flush the iv. Needless to say, I didn’t get any sleep this week. I do not know how I would have made it through all this without Mitchell. He would get up at 3am with me to help me the first few nights with the IV. He helped me drag my IV pole into work once I returned. Then he held my hand when I had to have the picc line removed from my arm (I was terrified of this part).

So I’m out of the hospital, no longer on IV, my mood should be getting better right? Wrong. Now I have the stress of us moving, then unpacking, 11 hour days now with driving back and forth to work, then getting the baby’s room ready, then having the baby. I move to this town and the very same week we get floods that make national news. Luckily, our house was not affected by this, but Mitchell’s second set of parents (long story) almost lost their house. Luckily Virginia was out of town visiting her daughter and didn’t have to deal with all this, but Jerry has been staying with us.

I only have 7 weeks left. I’m really too tired when I get home from work to do much, I might have an hour to give each day. That leaves 14 weekend days. Of those 14 weekend days, 1 is Gage’s birthday party, 3 go to baby showers, 1 is Mitchell’s graduation. That leaves me 9 days. Don’t forget, we have a 3 year old running around every other weekend too! Of course, he’s the best behaved 3 year old in the world and will help his GG whenever he can.

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So, needless to say, I’m stressed. I am severely stressed. Now, add hormones to this and I have come to think I am the 1 out of 10 pregnant women that experience depression.

This morning I woke up with gas pains and nausea. This isn’t completely different from any other morning other than the uncontrollable crying that went with it. I was crying because I was sick of feeling sick. I was crying because I wanted more sleep. I was crying because I was crying over gas pains and realized I don’t think I can conquer this funk alone. Something is wrong, this is not normal, this is not simply hormones acting up.

I talked to my doctor last visit. She wanted me to give it a little longer and make sure it wasn’t just me being sick. I was to call her if my mood or anxiety gets any worse. I think it’s time to call.

Posted on March 25th, 2008 by jennifer
Filed under: pregnancy