Let's play a game

Called how long will DH live while his wife is Pregnant.

DH was doing so well lately, that I never thought we'd have to play this game.

Except, for today:

Wife is sick, nauseated and exhausted at work. DH is supposed to pick her up at 5pm. At 5:30 wife calls DH, no answer. Wife calls DH on house phone, no answer. DH calls back while wife is in the bathroom.

6:00pm, Wife calls DH and reaches him on the mobile. Did he fall asleep from working so hard cleaning the apartment on his afternoon off and forget to set an alarm and is on his way to pick up wife NOW?

No.

DH was busy playing a Playstation2 game. Did he realize his error and immediately rush to pick up sick, exhausted pregnant wife from work to relieve her stress sooner than later?

No. "I'm just finishing up now."

Excuse me? You're NOT picking up wife to continue playing your game? Wife no longer gets overtime. Wife is so exhausted all the time that she misses too much work from not being able to get up in the morning. Wife needs bed rest NOW.

Wife is sitting at work, head over trash can spitting up, and head in arms, waiting for DH to finish his DAMN PLAYSTATION GAME.

Next to sell on ebay - Playstation 2 - from a Pregnant wife saving her husband's life.

Newsflash

My head is aching so badly that I just may move my desk to the office kitchen and stick my head in the freezer.

Or take the two extra strength tylenol in my desk despite knowing it is only recommended to take the regular strength. Screw that shit, the people who recommend that stuff are MEN and MEN don't fucking give birth.

I'm so sick of people telling me to ask my doctor before I do anything. I have common sense, I can read, and I know when to stop neglecting my body of something before I have a horrible blood pressure raising meltdown. I fear that I just may strangle my OB as well just for spite, the first time I meet him/her.

And speaking of, I missed my ob appt today. I thought it was in the pm, it was in the am. Shit. So now I have to go see a nurse practitioner who has a name I can't pronounce or tell if it's a man or woman, and wait three more days to find out if this thing causing me so much pain is alive or at least will stay alive enough for people to buy me presents.

And for the record - although I loved country fried steak last week, now it is evil. So is corn, and mashed potatoes. And finally, I think I've gone off my horrible McDonald's craving (thank GOD!). Now it is ... well hell I don't even know. I'm hungry and know I need to eat, but NOTHING seems appetizing. I just sent DH half an hour out of his way to get me a certain place's chicken. (Chick-fil-a if you MUST know). We'll see if I haven't gone off it before he comes back.

I'm selling all my useless while pregnant crap on ebay. I'll let you know the listing once I do it. I'm hoping the listing will be clever enough for money-wasters to stop by.

I love Slush

In my e-mail this morning -

"and when the hell are you guys gonna register for baby fixin's so I can spend my damn money???

I mean, really Ash. SHAMEFUL. They take kids away from parents who don't shamelessly use them for personal profit.

GET WITH THE PROGRAM!!!!"

Everybody has that friend who they just have to keep close to them for their sanity and entertainment, and Slush is one of mine. Right now she's really the only one since I've been too lazy to stay in contact with the others (childhood best friend, college roommate who has seen my cats more recently than seeing me, and high school best friend who still lives in Japan w/her Air force family). Slush is the only friend who sent Pete and I a wedding present, and has already sent us a baby gift (a memory book that made me cry when I opened it). She remembers birthdays and anniversaries, gave me the advice about bankruptcy, has a Dad who is local that I want to adopt since mine is so far away, a brother who calls himself Bubba, and is going to be a kick-ass rich attorney someday who will handle our friend's divorces from pilots and my trial when I strangle my psychiatrist for taking me off of my anti-depressants.

Slush, you're awesome. I'm glad that you're starting to realize it too, b/c we've known forever.

Pregnancy and Oprah

I learned yesterday that I can't watch Oprah while Pregnant.

Also, I can't watch the news, Maury, Montel, CSI shows, Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood, Reading Rainbow and even some teen chick flicks. They make me cry, and crying while pregnant is bad. It gives you a horrible headache for which you can't take any medication, and it's hard to stop crying once you start.

Oh, included in that list are commercials for Sylvan learning center (where the kid tells the mom thank you for sending them to a tutor to get better grades and the cheesy piano music chimes in), the beginning of West Wing (again, the music), and that show where Dr. Phil's son tears down and rebuilds dream homes for people. Basically I can't watch tv.

I don't know if it is the hormones or the fact that my damn fucking psychiatrist has made me wean off of my beloved and much-needed anti-depressant. I believe that being off of it will harm the baby more with all the blood pressure raising breakdowns I'll have, and she thinks the slight miniscule risk of taking it is too much and will ease my mind if I don't take it. Psychotic bitch.

She's not really a bitch, and I feel bad for calling her one, but I could strangle her for weaning me off my drugs.

Today is day two of absolutely no pills rather than less pills. This morning I woke up, cried, made DH hit snooze, peed, cried when I made myself sit up to get out of bed, cried in the shower because I couldn't face going to work, snapped at DH over who knows what, and crying when he snapped back (he is in nicotine withdrawal although so am I at the moment), crying when I couldn't find my shoes, cried when I had nausea and couldn't go in the kitchen to make breakfast, cried when the cat wouldn't stop whining at me, and cried when I dropped an apple on the floor.

And again on the way to work...but then I fell asleep so that stopped the crying.

I don't know how pregnant women work either. Not only do I want to be a stay-at-home mom b/c I feel like I'm too insane to keep a job without the pregnancy - I want to be a stay-at-home preggo. I can't handle the exhaustion. I fell asleep at my desk three times, twice in the bathroom stall, and have had my head hanging over the garbage can under my desk for about 6 hours of today's 8 hour day.

I can't do it.

I'm also afraid of my depression while being a mother. I'm scared that my hoarding of hangers is because I will turn into Joan Crawford once my baby is born. I'm already kicking DH in bed, and I'm sure it's b/c he's the one who knocked me up and that's the reason I can't sleep. It's all subconsciously of course, but I can't stop it.

I feel like writing to Oprah and asking her to support my stay-at-homeness b/c she pretends to have compassion for depressed moms. At least I think she does.

By the way, as an update to my past pregnancy posts, I am now super-excited about this baby, which scares me now because if I lose it I'll be more devastated than before when I was just scared shitless. I've also changed from calling it little bastard or Phelps the lucky sperm, to 'Little Bird'. I think it's a girl, and from the pain I'm in, twins.

Monday is the first ultrasound, fingers are crossed that the tech will get through my fat layers and find out if there's a baby or velociraptor alien in there. I'll update later.

Right now I have a migraine, nothing to take to relieve it, and I'm thinking of making DH risk his life again by asking for McDonald's fries on the way home (he risks his life by denying his pregnant wife her ultimate cravings, especially when she is off her drugs and has a migraine). I'll also let you know if he lives to see next week.

Operation Grow Lucky Blighter - Week 5 (or 3 or 6 :/ )

Hormones suck.

Yesterday, after learning that I was almost fired for doing something forgetful in my madness, I went home and bawled on the phone to my Mommy while a bowl of ice cream melted in my lap. I cried for so long that I had one of those raised blood pressure headaches that lasted allllllll night. It was so horrible I don't think I'll cry ever again. Everytime I feel those tears, I remember that horrible, horrible headache and hold them back.

Pete, my DH, is in for a wild ride. Not only has he had to put up with my depression and monthly hormone moods, but he gets this as well. Somehow he smiles through it all, hugs me and dreams of his days as "Daddy". He has learned that one way to cheer me up or get my mind off of the cramps (still got 'em!) and nausea (although no vomiting yet, thanks God!) is to imagine what the little lucky Phelps-Sperm-Egg-Embryo will be like.

Yesterday we fell asleep brainstorming names. Pete nixed some of my favorites, Amelia, Amelie (heh), Madeline/Madelyn (I wanted to call her Maddie!), and Emma - but we agreed on simpler names such as Amy, Emily, Jamie, Margaret (Maggie! and it's Mama Sue's middle name), and Rebecca (Reba for short). Of course we'll change our minds a million times but it's fun to namestorm, especially when you have an actual excuse this time. For boys, Toby, Benjamin (my dad's middle name and Pete loves it), Matthew, Andrew... and a few others but I've forgotten them by now. See? We'll do this again and again I'm sure and by the name the naming process comes, our minds will go blank.

Oh, forgot our favorite - Kashdis. Just think of it. Kashdis Spencer. (say it out loud, heh.) or Pezdis. Heh. If we lived in England we'd name a boy Mark Sand Spencer. Heeh.

Back to the dirty truth of pregnancy - it's still a bitch. But I'm gradually beginning to view it as a happy event. I'm not crazy about the pooing yellow/gray baby poo every 10 minutes, or the miniscule peeing every 5 minutes, the cramps that I would kill to stop, and the backaches that keep me from sleeping at night - but I like... aw hell I don't like any damn thing about it right now. Well, I do like the fact that I'm creating a mini-Pete, and turning goofy Pete into goofy-Dad-Pete, and I love his enthusiasm and support. I just wish I could love how it is destroying my already destroyed body.

Good news or bad, I've got news

Well I'll just break it to you like it was broken to me:

Thursday I bought my new birth control. I was very excited about that, because I had decided I was NOT ready for kids, and hell no to pregnancy for a long time. In fact I had just told my Dad he'll have to pretend his poodles are his grandkids for a while, so he better get used to it.

Friday I was fed up with feeling so damn achy and crampy. It was like the worst case of PMS I had ever had but without the period. If you think I'm sharing too much, just wait. I've got more. So I went to the doctor. The HMO wouldn't let me see a snoopy doctor for another month, so I just asked to see my regular internist. After a lecture from him about how I should've seen a snoopy doctor instead, he made me take some blood and urine tests, and sit out in the waiting room with a sleepy husband for an hour. We sat underneath the horrid FauxNews (I don't know why people even watch that crap when there's CNN and BBCNews around) while they stood 'watch' on the Pope dying. Pete wondered if he hung on for another month, would they still stand there hour by hour reporting that he's still "not dead".

I got called back to see the doc right about 5pm when his office was closing. He took ten seconds to tell me - "Your blood and urine are fine, but your preguhsee is positive". I had to grab his sleeve before he walked out, "Um, huh?" What the hell is preguhsee? Was that some sort of disease? Oh... pregNANcy... damn.

I sat there with a blank look for as long as he'd let me. I was waiting for the pregnancy instructions, what to do, what not to do... all he told me was to see an ob/gyn and left. Wow, I just LOVE fucking HMOs.

Yeah, so, on April Fools' Day, I found out that I'm pregnant. Fucking pregnant.

I would be happier if it weren't for these damn hormones. I can't tell you how many times I've told God that not only is he an evil little shit, but he can take these extra hormones and shove them up his...

So...when am I supposed to start being all cozy mothering exuding happiness? Pete has been ecstatic since the moment I told him. Everyone else is ecstatic. I'm still in disbelief, and to be quite honest, I absolutely hate the way I feel. Nauseous but Hungry, tired but I can't sleep, exhausted but can't get the energy, crampy but without the relief of being able to take drugs for it, pissed off at the world, but not knowing if I can take my anti-depressants b/c my fucking doctor didn't fucking tell me. And that pregnant glow? It's not glow. It's the sweat I get now when I sleep.

And the sleep? It's not really sleep. It's tossing and turning while those awful words "pregnant women should only sleep on their left side" going through my head, as if I'm committing murder if I want to let the blood flow back into my left arm while I sleep on the right side. The damn thing is only less than 1mm right now, why must it take up the entire bed????

And I don't know how in the hell I am going to manage work. I already missed a day and a half last week from my crampiness. I haven't been able to walk and talk at the same time all weekend. I stumble from the bed to the bathroom to the kitchen, back to the bathroom, to the bed. I bawl big ugly sobs and tears because I feel so hopeless and so awful because I can't feel happy when I feel this shitty.

I'm scared to DEATH.

At least it was easy to quit smoking.