This past week has been a baaaad week.  I’m glad it’s Friday, in fact, so that I can move on from this shit storm of a week and move on.  But, oh, it’s been bad.

You guessed it, I’m going to withhold details.  I’m not going to talk about what made my week.  I’m not going to talk about my stupid little troubles.  Because you know what?  While they are a big deal to me right now and are dominating my life (a life that should be VERY happy considering my almost wonderful everyday circumstances), 6 months down the road I am not going to be thinking about it.  Not often at least.  A year down the road, I’ll have succeeded in brushing off a lot of this garbage.

I’m just going to belly ache for the main purpose of my beautiful readers and friends to give me support and virtual hugs.  Because I really fucking need that right now.  Badly.

The sickness has been really bad lately.  The pills have helped to stop the vomiting, but the nausea has been terrible and I haven’t been eating much.  At first I thought that maybe this ugly sickness was just having one last go at me before the pregnancy is over, but now I’m not so sure.  I think the stress of recent events has been wreaking havoc on my already fucked up pregnant body.  I’m having issues with gestational diabetes (not confirmed, but have been wasting a lot of my damned time at the hospital drinking glucose solution and having tube after tube after tube after tube of blood taken from my arm).  I’m also having issues with my weight.  My doctor asked me at one appointment if I was on a diet because my weight gain is not so good I guess.  I got mad at him and told him AGAIN that I have HG and that I just don’t have much of an appetite.  But everything with the baby at that point looked good.  As long as the abuse is heaped on me, I’m okay with that.  As long as my baby is healthy and safe in my body, I can deal.  But at my appointment today……..

I was in the Dr.’s office two weeks ago and was measuring at 29 weeks.  Right where I needed to be.  Today I measured at 28 weeks and the doctor was a little alarmed.  He asked me over and over again if the baby’s movement is okay.  How many times a day does the baby move?  Is it all day or only once or twice a day?  Are you sure you aren’t leaking fluid?  When I assured him (I had to calm HIM down) that the baby is VERY active and moves all day and that I am not leaking fluid, he scribbled something on my chart and told me that I need to go get an ultrasound “just to make sure everything is fine.”  He then started explaining that this could be nothing.  That I might just have a short pelvis (wtf is wrong with my pelvis NOW?) or some other very benign things.  Then he looked at me and said,

“How are you feeling?  Have you been sick?”

And then it clicked.  This stress has taken a physical toll on me and my baby.  And oh, I was immediately so angry.  Stress and ridiculous circumstances could possibly be hurting my baby.

Nothing’s certain right now.  I have the ultrasound after the weekend and can make sure that my baby is okay.  I’ll also just be able to see him.  The little person kicking the bejeezus out of me will be on a screen for me to see and admire.  My resolve to protect that tiny creature has doubled.  I just need to see him.  And I am freaking out a little bit.  I’m in the home stretch of this pregnancy.  I’ve made it past an “almost” miscarriage, the bitch part of the sickness, and the basic growing pains of having a person grow in your abdomen.  I wish so much that I didn’t have to worry about this baby so much…especially when it is possibly caused by things that could have been avoided altogether.

Hopefully in November I’ll be able to write a blog post about my relief and gratefulness that this baby is just fine despite all of the silly little scares.  That I’ll be able to take hundreds of pictures of this baby and his big brother together and show off my two beautiful healthy babies.  Hopefully, like before, this turns out to be nothing.

Last night while lounging in my living room with my mother and husband.

Me:  “He told me last night that I was fat!”

Jessie:  “Well look at her!  She needs to lay off of the Big Macs!”

Me:  *sigh*

Jessie:  “She looks like she has a big tapeworm or some other kind of parasite growing in her stomach!”

My Mom:  “Maybe she just needs to take a big crap.”

Last night while lying in bed, I was stroking my stomach and feeling around for the baby.  I love when I find his head or butt and I can hold it in my hand through my belly, almost like having him here to hold and snuggle.  While doing my feel-adventure, I noticed a spike come up on my belly.  I felt it and decided that it was a tiny bent knee.  I grabbed Jessie’s hand and put it on the knee.  He wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing.  He could have assumed that I was going to be putting his hand on my boob, so when he felt that tiny hard bump on my stomach, he jumped up and yelled, “What the hell is that??”

“I think that’s a knee,” I said calmly.

“Geez, Somer!  Don’t do that to me!  You have to warn me first!”

I shushed him and put his hand back on the bump, and as if on cue, the baby jerked the knee towards Jessie’s hand and then moved it along my belly, rubbing Jessie’s hand with his knee.  Jessie’s reaction?  A high pitched squeal and the quick removal of his hand.

The bigger this belly gets and the more prominent the little boy inside my belly, the more squeamish Jessie becomes over the whole thing.  With Lukas, near the end, you could actually make out tiny feet and hands and it freaked Jessie right the hell out.  I find it all quite amusing.