39 Weeks, Where the Wits End

I don't really know what to say. I promise the next post will have more sunshine and rainbows, maybe even a picture of a baby!  And right now, while that old adage of "if you don't have anything nice to say, you shouldn't say anything at all" is sitting in the back of my mind, I'm ignoring it because I've never listened to it before.

I'm officially out of my good humor.

I feel like I haven't slept for weeks.  I don't need to be reminded that once the baby gets here that won't change.  Because at least then, I will have a purpose for being awake as opposed to lying awake in physical miserableness, unable to feel my arms for hours at a time, rolling from side to side as my hips scream in pain, waking from the same recurring dream that I'm drowning only to realize that in all reality I truly can't breathe over and over and over again.


And Max has strep throat.


That in and of itself should be a medical miracle given that he's only been out of our house a total of three days over the last 2.5 weeks.  Since he's had and conquered the flu, I've been paranoid about taking him out, hoping that our low key days would help insure that we wouldn't get any more illnesses.

I was supposed to be induced tomorrow.  But I pushed it back a week to my actual due date, March 5th.  I really want labor to come on it's own. I hope that will make the whole ordeal shorter.  But now with the way my (bad) luck is piling up, I'm pretty sure that instead of a nice, swift natural labor, I will be sitting in the hospital March 5th being induced and wondering why I didn't do it the week before.

I can't wash my jeans because they will never fit again.  I am so tired of my belly hanging out because none of my shirts, even maternity ones are long enough.  I don't feel nice anymore. I need a hug. But you shouldn't give me one cause I'm probably carrying strep throat.

In the Past Week of Quarantine

I have nursed this buddy back to health,

and this one too, even though he doesn't look sick in this picture, he got the flu as well.

I've made a flock of felt birds,

and started and finished a book.

I have emptied the froggy potty a million and one times, all the while fruitlessly talking up the merits of using the big potty.



I cut Max's hair in a defensive lice move, making him "look like Daddy"

I have caught a terrible cold.


I have self medicated with chocolate chips and girl scout cookies despite having met my self imposed weight limit 3 weeks early.


I have completed the lung development of the baby keeping residence in my tummy.

I have celebrated the births of the babies of two close friends. Which was fun, but has made the arrival of my little one feel even further away.


I have not had a full night's rest.


I've tried to decide if I have enough hutzpah to do this again, on purpose this time.

I have mourned the 3rd and final child's infection with the flu, despite my many attempts to keep her quarantined herself.

I have had enough pregnant lady breakdowns to remind Dan just how crazy I can be.


But just when I felt I'd completely lost my zest for life, I was cheered up by the sweet notes left around the house by my boys.

The February Blues

January always gets a bad rap but I've never thought it was that bad.  Maybe because it's my birthday month?  I know, it's kind of the let down after the excitement of the holidays, the time for resolutions and what not, but to me, it's really February that I dread.

Historically, February has been really bad to us.  You've got time to waste? Go ahead and click back on either of the past two years and the month of February.  It's not pretty.

Remember, last year, I was sick with the mystery illness which was compounded by a ruptured appendix and a weeks stint in the children's hospital.

February 2011, was the epic list of ailments.  Let me look back and list them again just to be dramatic:

5 ear infections
3 strep throats
1 uti
1 case of pneumonia
1 case of salmonella
1 sinus infection
1 flu

I had really hoped this one would be different.  Why not, too?  It even holds the possibility of the birthday of our new baby. But now that it's day 8 of February 2013 and we've already experienced our first foray into the world of head lice and Max has contracted the other type of flu (A this time), I am not holding my breath, but I am crossing my fingers that by some miracle, the other kids can escape it.  In fact if anything makes me want to stay pregnant longer it's just the hope of saving my baby from a birthday in February.

But right now, having a baby seems a million miles away.

 I'm  just feeling bad for my boy.