leta joy

I had yet another doctor’s appointment this morning and I am 3 cm dilated!  WOOP!  WOOP!  I would apologize to all of my male readers, but this is how every single baby comes into the world, so you are going to have to GET OVER IT.  My blood pressure is still up and the proteinuria was a bit worse than on Wednesday.  I have an ultrasound scheduled for Monday and if things have not improved then I will probably be induced next week.

Here is where I have been spending my days:

Last night I had a brief reprieve when we went to Lowe’s to look at finishes for the basement, which isn’t finished but we can still shop, can’t we?  Riding around in one of those motorized scooter thingees isn’t nearly as much fun as you might think.  They aren’t very fast and the batteries, they die, and you may or may not be located at the back of the store when that happens.

I seem to have done something to my neck.  I have to be the only person alive who can injure themselves while RESTING.  I think I pulled something this morning when I was talking on the phone and holding the phone to my ear with my chin.  OW.

That’s all the excitement I have for you today.  I hope you are doing something more fun than laying in a recliner watching back-to-back episodes of CSI:  NY.

I had quite an eventful day yesterday. Not necessarily events that I would want to repeat anytime soon, but it WAS eventful. After dropping Arwyn off for a stay at Camp Aunt Banana, I returned home for my doctor’s appointment. She was a tad concerned about my slight swelling, rapid weight gain over the past week, increased blood pressure and protein in my urine. Apparently I flunked every test they had for me except the reflexes one. I would have studied had I known there was going to be a pop quiz. I never had this problem in school.

After having blood taken for labs, she sent me home with one simple instruction: rest. I went home and Googled preeclampsia for a bit, then headed out to the salon. I already had my previously mentioned pedicure scheduled and I wasn’t too keen to miss it. Sitting in a recliner while someone else pampers your feet is resting, right? As I was preparing to leave my pedicure my phone rang and it was another doctor from the practice telling me part of my labs were back and she felt my hemoglobin was dangerously low and would like me to come to the hospital for further labwork and monitoring. Yipee! At least I would be arriving at the hospital with pretty toes.

I went home and threw some things in a bag just in case they decided to keep me prisoner overnight, grabbed some magazines and headed on in where I was wheeled up to Labor & Delivery. Not really sure why they insist on doing that, but I was happy to sit. I was taken to Room Triage 3, which sounded a little scary, but only consisted of a bed, a sink and some monitoring equipment. Over the course of the two hours that I was there, I was attended to by no less than four nurses and one on-call doctor. I’m guessing that whichever nurse was the least busy was instructed to go check on the chick with the fat feet. I had more blood taken, the baby was monitored and my bp was taken at least every half hour. After answering approximately half a billion questions, reading two magazines and starting a book, calling Bubby to relay updates, and a stern lecture from the on-call doctor, I was free to go.

Baby looks great, they are mainly concerned about my blood pressure and low hemoglobin. I was instructed to take as much iron as I can stand (my iron tolerance is pretty low), eat plenty of iron-rich foods, drink a lot of water and rest. I am not supposed to be up for more than an hour at a time. I have now reached my alloted hour, and must retire to my chaise.

This is my good foot.  The other one is worse than this one.  This was taken when I could still bend my toes  and when the swelling went down while I slept.  When I didn’t have to take breaks from whatever I am doing to sit in the recliner and put my feet up.  When the laundry still got done.  When I didn’t have to sit on a stool to wash dishes.  When every step didn’t hurt.  Now by the end of the day they look something like this:

How disgusting is THAT?!  And if anybody would like to smack me and yell, “Feel sorry for yourself much?!” I would totally understand.  At this point, I can’t even stand myself.

You know who I really feel sorry for?  The poor girl that is giving me a pedicure tomorrow.  bwa ha ha!

I’m sparing you all from my puffy face.  You can thank me later.  This picture was taken the day I was 36 weeks, but now I am almost 37 weeks NOT THAT I’M COUNTING or anything.  Last night I was having a lot of, shall we say unpleasant moments, and I thought “This might be it!” even though I knew it probably wasn’t.  A girl can hope, can’t she?

Pregnancy does not really agree with me.  I am not one of those people that glows with a cute little belly bump.  I swell, I puff up like a blowfish, I have really bad back pain, I get sick.  It’s not very pretty.  But soon, very soon I hope, we will meet the little munchkin that has been causing me so much trouble.