is so tired right now. I feel like the kid in the Pinball Wizard song that plays by sense of smell, ya know?. The rest of my senses are not functioning at full capacity. I got probably an hour’s worth of sleep last night. My husband thinks The Chunker has his days and nights mixed up, so suggested to me to bathe him today, bother him, and otherwise keep him occupied till tonight. Then try different things getting him to sleep. Put him in the swing, try him in his crib, try letting him sleep in his carseat (Which is where he slept this morning for 3 hours.) I said ok, I’d try. I just bathed him (warm water only, cord’s still attached) and changed him, and now I think I’ll have some lunch. Or maybe take a nap. Yeaaaaah. Nap sounds good. Wonder what time Sis will be here? *Pinball Wizard, there has to be a twist…*

Well, I had my first false alarm today. I went to work, as usual, and about the middle of the day, I felt um, wetness. I went to the potty, took care of business, and still felt trickling. So, I called the boardrunner (who sounded an alarm like the cavalry, apparently) and she sent me relief. I was just gonna quietly leave and drive myself to the hospital (I know, one hospital to another), but no. All of a sudden, 84000 people were getting me a wheelchair, making me sit, telling me to call my husband, etc. As if I wouldn’t have done all those things anyway, but I didn’t need a audience! Anyway, got to L&D, and they hooked me up, my bp was up a bit, and I’ll be damned, but I was contracting! I couldn’t feel them, really, just crampy type stuff. So, I sat there for 3 hours (and didn’t get any lunch, mind you) and got sent home. They checked me, and I’m still 2cm, and I guess the trickly stuff was mucus plug, maybe? I don’t know. And do you know, after all we talked about, who was the first person my husband called? Yeah. His mother. We are not amused. I have been instructed to put my feet up, rest, and report to the OB Tuesday, unless I start to feel funky. Then I’m to show up Monday. Oh, and I’m still contracting every few minutes.

Well, went to the dr’s today, and I’m 36 weeks, 5 days, 2cm and 70%. Actually, she said I was closer to 3, but definitely 2. So. I might not make it to Christmas Eve. Ok. *worriedsigh* I’m in dire mortal fear of what we in the US call ‘Wimpy White Male syndrome’. I just want him to be healthy and breathe on his own and adapt to outside life normally. GBS Negative, trace of protein still. He measures perfectly, and dear God, but he’s running out of room! I’ve been contracting off and on today, I imagine it’s probably from her checking me. Going to bed early, and working tomorrow. Oh, and I’m definitely in the ‘everything hurts’ stage.

Spent yesterday in the ER. My husband drank a frozen coffee drink and got a huge brain freeze. Little did I know, that can dilate your esophagus and tickle your heart muscles into some weird arrhythmia. By 1100 AM, his fingertips were cold and he felt lightheaded. So he wasn’t perfusing like he should, and was probably in a-fib. Great. He took his meds and we went to the ER. He’s on a beta-blocker, a calcium channel blocker, and an ace inhibitor. Naturally, by the time he got to the ER, whatever arrhythmia he had had resolved itself. But they had to draw his blood anyway, and do an EKG and chest x-ray. I told him that he scared the hell out of his highly neurotic wife, and please not to do that again!

Just the way things are. My husband is so depressed. He feels like he’s not contributing. I’m just proud of him for trying, ya know? Things will pick up, they have to. He’ll get a better job soon, and we’ll be better off, and we’ll start paying stuff off, and everything else. It just seems like it’s all hitting at once. *sigh* I’m working as much as I can, and hopefully the short term disability will take care of the rest while I’m off. When I go back, I won’t be able to take call much, since he works the weekend and my SIL probably doesn’t want to raise my kid for me, so I’ll have to work extra on the days he’s off. Don’t have much choice. So, class, what have we learned from this? Save for rainy days! And? Don’t go into debt, save for what you want! There’s more! Buy used and save the difference! I’ve looked into a website called southernsavers.com. It teaches you how to use coupons at the grocery store effectively. Maybe that’ll help some, but I may be coming to you live from the public library soon. And sitting in the dark a lot. Hopefully the roommate will start paying rent soon, so that’ll alleviate some pressure. I’m having a beautiful baby boy, and he’s provided for for a little while, and we’ll just do what we have to do, and all’s right with the world.

It never fails. Last case of the day, in the smallest room in the OR (Cysto Room, for those in the know) the patient decides to crash on us. Turned blue and went into Pulseless Electrical Activity, or PEA. So, we started chest compressions, gave epi, the doctors started art lines and central lines and we got him up to the unit on a vent. I didn’t get out of there till 1930, after giving report to the unit nurse, filling out the incident report, making sure the crash cart got switched out, and transporting the patient. The pt was uro-septic. Kidney infection due to kidney stones. What a mess. I got home, and was getting undressed, and had 1+ pitting edema in my legs. Hmmm. It’s still there today, although not as marked. I had socks on yesterday, see. I know that some swelling is normal, but is it supposed to be pitting? I’ve been watching my blood pressure, and it’s been normal so far, so maybe I’m just being paranoid and my expectations are too high. If it doesn’t resolve itself by this afternoon, I’ll call the doctor. And probably feel stupid later, but better to be careful, right?

Update: Well, the swelling is down this morning, so I think it’ll be ok, unless it flares up again tomorrow. We’ll see. It seems to look worse when I wear socks, as opposed to supp hose. Maybe I’ll get me some today. Sexy.

That’s what I should have named this blog. Anyway. I gotta get together a go-bag for the hospital stay. Clothes for me, clothes for the Jumping Bean, Diapers, wipes (for the trip home, in case we have to stop anywhere), toiletries in miniature(?), hairbrush, blow dryer (I’m not buying a new one, will just have to try to remember on the way, otherwise will be using the drip-dry method), house shoes (I never wear them at home, but seriously? You don’t want to walk around a hospital in bare feet or even just socks. And you look really stupid wearing your tennies with your bathrobe.) pj’s, and I don’t even know what all else. Pads! Will be needing those, no? And don’t I need to pack the boppy and diaper bag? Hand sanitizer for when the family comes to call? I’m never going anywhere again that it won’t look like I’m moving.

In other news, the house is swept, mopped, dusted, guest bathroom cleaned (courtesy of the roommate), I just need to vacuum, and get the rest of the clothes put away and hung up. I feel soooo much better with a clean house. This is going to cause a problem postpartum, isn’t it. Hmmm. Mom and Aunt are coming for a week (combined, not consecutive, although that doesn’t sound half bad now you mention it) so hopefully it won’t be too bad for a little bit. Oh sleep, wherefore art thou? Maybe I’m practicing for later, ya think?

and nowhere to go. I’m blogging away heartburn again. I hope I’m not one of those who has to have my gallbladder out. Ugh. It’s not like I don’t know any good surgeons, but ugh. Woke up cramping and immediately my brain goes into overdrive. “OMG. What if…. Wait, how long was that? Could it just be gas?” Yeah. I’m neurotic. I even felt him kick while this was going on. Now. I know he wouldn’t be kicking and rolling around like a cat in a bag if he was in some sort of distress. He was just ’smushed’. And now that we’ve ‘evacuated’, the heartburn’s almost gone. Course, I’m not sure if this was from that or the zan.tac I took. I don’t know, and I don’t care. I just want sleep.

Update: HB went away, I was able to return to the woodpile, and slept in till 10amish. Now, I have to clean up after the boys who seem tho think that clean smells like grease, trash, and cars. *sigh* Someone once told me that there’s “A Man’s Idea of Clean”, “A Woman’s Idea of Clean”, and “Sterile”. He said there’s not much difference in the last two. I’m beginning to agree with him. This was a doctor I worked with long ago. He was a pretty smart guy. I just wish I had some help. Shall have to commandeer the roommate and threaten his lodgings.

I’ve never in my life known the countdown to Christmas this early. In case you didn’t know, there’s 10.5 weeks left of the shopping season. In 10.5 weeks, I’ll be a mom. (I’m a little scared/intimidated/apprehensive.) I’ve told everyone that as far as the shopping season goes this year, I’m gonna be fat, tired, and out of breath. Sooo, everyone gets to hold a baby while I sing “Away in a Manger.” Last year, everyone got to come to my house and flush the toilet while I sang “Jingle Bells!” I think this year’s gift is an improvement over last year’s, don’t you?

I’m starting to get nervous. Something’s gonna happen. Another couple we know just gave birth to a baby girl, and I predicted before she ever went to the hospital that she’d have to have a C-section. I predicted that another couple would have a girl. So, I’m nervous. It’s just going too well, ya know?

In other news, we’re going to my husband’s hometown for a court date with his EB over the child support. Again. He got a summons for “non-payment of child/medical support.” Well, he’s got receipts and check stubs contradicting that, and the state of TN’s child support website shows he’s been paying extra to catch up. And, she’s cashed some of the checks. So she can kiss our collective asses. That summons made him sound like a criminal. I just don’t want to go and announce that I’m pregnant. The first thing she’ll do is get on the phone to my stepson and ask ‘So, what do you think about having a new little brother?’ I don’t need that. He doesn’t need to know yet, at least not before my husband talks to him and my MIL first. I want the ground rules set before he gets here, ya know? Probably stupid, and over controlling, but I just want FB to have as little contact with my MIL and stepson as possible. The whole thing is giving me goosebumps. Along with almost making me physically sick. I can’t wait till the child support’s finished and we never have to deal with any of them ever again. (My husband’s words, not mine, but I fully support the sentiment.)

I has it in spades. *deepbreathdeepbreath* I’m worried. I won’t be able to keep the pace up after the baby’s born. And unless my husband finds another job (or I do), we’re gonna have to start really cutting back. As in sit in the dark, freeze our tushies off, only talk on the phones after 9pm except for business calls, *cut off the cable tv/internet*, none of which are really sacrifices. But losing my house, having the new furniture repossessed, losing my car, those things have me scared. And unless I can keep up the pace, all of those things may just happen. I hate being poor. I hate feeling pinched like this. We were doing so well before, and I thought we were on our way to, well, not the easy life, but stability, anyways. As long as I can nurse, can feed the baby, so input is covered, but output may be a problem. Diapers are expensive. When I started on this venture, we were reasonably stable. Now, I don’t know. I just don’t know. I’m probably whining, and probably lots of people started having kids a lot worse off than we are (we’re not teenagers with no jobs, after all), but I don’t like change. I know, I know, I did this to myself, and what exactly did I think having a kid was gonna do to my lifestyle? Unless I’d planned on hiring a nanny, one helluva lot. *sigh* Anxiety. I has it.

I applied for a management position. We’ll see. May be under qualified. But I decided that if we’re ever gonna have any money, I may as well try. Course, benefits will be a factor. So will childcare. *sigh*