“I didn’t know they got *that* bad.”
in reference to my ankles swelling.

“You are cute when you get mad.  It makes your nose spread wider across your face”
I’m getting the wide pregnancy nose.

“I have no idea.”
When I asked him why I was the love of his life.

This was all said during a grocery shopping trip.  We get home, I’m told to just go inside and lay down for a while.  He’ll carry the groceries in and put them away.

Photos Here

Carly’s book, Sexography, is both a tragic and comedic memoirs about her journey of sexual self-discovery. And now, it’s your turn to blog your own version of Sexography. Even if you’re not a “sex writer” per se, we want to encourage you to explore the comedy, fear, silliness, scariness, million-and-one emotions and million-and-one experiences that are mental, physical, emotional and spiritual, all of which make up the rich tapestry of sexuality. So if you want to write about how your dog watches you masturbate or how you can’t stand porn or about your first time or what you think of sex in the media and how it affects you personally, you should. What you write about is up to you, just as long as it falls under the “sexuality” header. Personal stories about survival are strongly encouraged.

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I’m most certainly going to *try* to enter. We are having Gage’s birthday party today.

<rant>

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.

</rant>

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.

What is your earliest childhood memory?

My earliest childhood memory:

My dad has always had a beard and mustache. When I was about 3 or 4 he shaved his face completely. I was scared to death. I hid under the covers of my bed and cried.

Mitchell normally keeps a beard and mustache. I cannot stand for him to shave his face completely. I think I’m still traumatized.

Note: Dad has never since that day shaved his face completely

First, let’s go for my health background. I have Hereditary Spherocytosis. Basically I have some funky looking red blood cells. They jerked my spleen out when I was 5. All has been well, except living without a spleen makes me more prone to catch an infection. There is a 50% chance Chloe will inherit this, so I’m considered a high right pregnancy.

Let me add here, I’m allergic to Tylenol. I am not supposed to take Motrin while pregnant.

Here is the highlights of my past 2 weeks.

Wednesday the 20th of Feb. I had a Braxton Hicks contraction. I’ve had them a few times in my back, but this time I had it one in my uterus. I called the doctor to make sure everything was ok since it was a new feeling. She told me to lay down, if I started having more contractions, or if they formed a pattern, to call her back. Everything was ok after this contraction-wise.

Thursday the 21st of Feb. I start feeling very crappy and running a low grade temperature. I called the doctor again mid day. She called back and asked for me to come in for a urinalysis he next day just do double check he fever and contraction had nothing to do with each other.

Friday the 22nd of Feb. Melanie called to let us know Gage tested positive for the flu. I called on my way to the lab to see if I could get a flu test while I was there. It was negative.

Friday I stayed home from work. I just felt like couldn’t hold my head up long enough to be productive. My fever kept creeping up through the day. I had called my doctor’s office, but by 4pm they had not gotten back with me (I’m guessing my 2 calls including the call about the flu text got combined into one and thrown away). I decided to head on to the ER when my temp hit 101.5F. I go through the whole story about having a flu test that morning, but for some reason these people could not get it through their head. I requested a flu text because I was already at the clinic for lab work. I did not have a doctor’s appointment. They used a thermal thermometer (which is going off Chloe’s registration NOW, they suck) right after I walked in from outside. Seems my temperature was 97F and they thought I was stupid and full of shit. I was treated like crap, asked why I didn’t wait around for my doctor’s appointment… again, I did not have a damn doctor’s appointment… and told there was nothing wrong with me and sent home. Let’s hope I don’t get a bill for this visit, they do NOT want the phone call they will get about it.

Saturday, Feb 23rd the fever just kept creeping and creeping up. Finally it hit 102.7 and I called my doctor. She had me meet one of her partners (she was in the middle of an emergency at the time) on the OB floor of the hospital. They used the thermal thermometer and showed my fever was 98F. Once I explained what happened last night, they retook my temp under my tongue it was 103.4. I got to spend the night.

Sunday, Feb 24th, Happy Birthday To me! My fever broke overnight, and I thought all was well and I was going to get to go home. Boy was I wrong. The nurse steps in to ask me my preference of ambulance services, I was heading to Little Rock.

I have now had iv’s in 3 different places, blood drawn in every vein to where nurses are warning each other about me at shift changes.  I look like a druggie with all this holes and bruises.  I have been hooked to monitors where there seems to be a cord coming out of every inch of my body.  Basically tortured while they were trying to find how to heal me.   I’ve been packed in ice, given breathing treatments, and been in 6 different hospital rooms.

I’m told I get to go home tomorrow, but I have to work with home iv nurses to continue 10 more days of antibiotic therapy.  I can hardly wait.  I’ve sat up numerous nights just crying wanting to go home.

They say the worse time to have a pneumonia is while you are pregnant.  You already have a baby pushing up on your lungs, and then you can get the abdominal strength to really cough like you need. I’ll have to say having a pneumonia anytime is horrible.

Any advice from moms out there?  I’m thinking about getting a maternity belt.  Did anyone get relief from these?

Twice a year there is a huge children’s consignment sale here in town at the fair grounds.  They are very picky about the items they will take.  For clothes, they must be in style, clean, no holes, must have all the buttons, ect.  As for toys and furniture, it must have been bought within the past 5 years, clean and 100% in-tact.   I decided to check the sale out this past weekend to see what I could find for Chloe.  I found a lot more than one treasure this time!  I wrote a check for $47.  For this $47 I got:

1. Snoogle Pregnancy Pillow for $10 (the most expensive item I bought. They run between $35-60 new)
2. 24 Onesies.
3. 4 pairs of cotton pants
4. 2 gowns
5. 1 bib
6. 2 pairs of mittens
7. 1 cute little outfit with the tags still on it
8. 2 dresses
9. 1 skirt (my favorite!)
10. 1 denim jumper
11. 1 pair of khaki capris
12. 1 robe

Most of these items were gap, carters, old navy, ect.  I think I did pretty good treasure shopping!

Clitter