It's been an interesting past week.
I spent the week going back and forth between the hospital and doctor's office 4 times in 6 days.
FOUR TIMES.
SIX DAYS.
They think/thought/think that I might be in the very early stages of pre-eclampsia.
My blood pressure is up, swelling is high, weight gain is strange, hemoglobin is down, headaches and on and on.
I had to pee in a big orange jug.
For 24 hours.
And keep it in my refrigerator.
Next to the skim milk.
As if that wasn't humiliating (and annoying enough), I go to the hospital on Saturday for more testing. Each time in the hospital this week I've had one of my physician's residents.
Women.
All women.
Until Saturday.
Saturday I had Dr. HOTTIE who looked more like he had just stepped out of a television soap opera than from a birthing room - tall, dark, blue eyes, and worse yet? Very attentive.
And then it happened - the phrase that every "advanced maternal age" pregnant woman dreads from the young hottie resident:
"Today I think we need to check your cervix."
I'll let your imagination fill in the rest.
Dr. Hottie goes on to inform me that although I had been on "house confinement" the week before, my doctor now wants me on bed rest.
Which would be great news if I didn't have a business to run.
And I wasn't the only employee.
And if I could actually get some REST (a maximum of 2 hours of sleep per night does not a restful night make...).
So at discharge I say to Dr. Hottie, "Can you tell me what to do about my feet swelling? They are fine while I'm lying down, but as soon as stand up they swell up really bad."
Dr. Hottie's response?
"Uh, YEAH...that's why it's called BED. REST."
HMPF.
Remember the last time you cleaned the crumb tray from underneath your toaster?
EX.ACT.LY.
Before 4 a.m. this morning, neither did I.
There's something to be said for this weird nesting instinct that kicks you into high gear to get everything done in your house before the baby arrives - and I'm talkin' things that haven't been done in YEARS. Add to that the upcoming arrival of a house full of guests this week and you find yourself doing strange cleaning rituals at 4 a.m. when you can't sleep.
Like cleaning the 2 crumb trays from your dual toaster.
And when big crunchy chunks are stuck and prevent the tray from going back in, you'll find yourself with a strange sense of urgency to dig them out.
With a wooden chopstick.
At 4 a.m.
With only the small microwave overhead providing shadowed light on the whole ordeal.
I mean, hey, who would want to turn on the kitchen overhead light and run the risk of providing an actual opportunity for the neighbors to possibly see an 8-month pregnant woman digging in her toaster with a wooden chopstick at 4 a.m.?!?
*duh*
(And, it's perfectly reasonable to assume that a house guest would get the urge to look in the toaster crumb tray and then pass judgement on your lack of cleaning and therefore parenting skills, right?!? It so OBVIOUSLY had to be done...)
So.
I hate CROCS. You know, those funny looking rubber-like shoes sometimes lined with fleece?
Ya. Those.
Well, hated.
You have to realize, I come from a healthcare/hospital background which means that CROCS were worn by the surgeons or the techs or the nurses or anyone else who had to be on their feet for too many hours to count during the day. Crocs were not fashionable, they were functional. So you can imagine my horror when they were cool to wear as, dare I say? A FASHION TREND.
I've ignored them, denied them, and even snobbily baulked at them.
Why would I want to wear something that was made for healthcare workers just because someone told me they were cool?
I think not.
The topic of Crocs came up at Christmas when my mom said, "You need some Crocs to slip on and off on your driving trip."
Imagine my husband's horror when I said, "EW! I HATE those things. I would NEVER wear them..."
Imagine my horror when I opened a pair for my birthday a few days later from him.
So, today I am the owner of a pair of Crocs. And, I gotta tell you, I can't take them off. I'm not sure that I've felt anything this comfortable on my feet in a long, long time.
Or, maybe EVER. Especially at this 8-month pregnant state.
I simply love them.
Notice I didn't say a PROUD owner?
Don't tell anyone I love them.
You know how much I hate conformity.
(Although those cotton candy pink ones with the oatmeal lining are WAY cute *cough*hint*cough*).
Dear 2007:
I won't be sad to see you go.
You've been a year of changes, learning, pain and hopefully, growth. You've been a year of mostly losses with very few gains. You've been a year of additions and subtractions. Lots of tears and very few smiles.
In 2007, we went from being a comfortable family to an uncomfortable family. The ones that helped to the ones that needed help. We found ourselves in uncharted territory in more ways than one.
Our bookstore went from being completely self-sufficient to completely downhill in just a matter of a couple of short months. So much so that we are considering closing and will make the decision in January. We've gone from giving endlessly and tirelessly to our community to wondering what we're really doing here.
Our personal finances deteriorated as I continued to work at the bookstore for no pay, which left little to no time for contract writing/teaching. Which meant no checks. No additional personal financial support for our family. Couple that with Todd's lay off the year before finally catching up with us and our personal financial situation is at the worst it has ever been. Again, a brand new place for us.
We've strengthened some friendships and probably weakened a few others. In difficult, painful and surprising ways, we've realized what we mean to certain people and relationships and what they mean to us. We've been overwhelmed by the support of some, and completely surprised at the lack of support from others.
We celebrated the unexpected addition of a baby kitty to our family, and then four days later mourned the loss of one that had been with us for 13 years.
We were shocked and blessed to find that we were pregnant. And then worried that we wouldn't be able to provide even the most basic needs for our new baby. Although a huge blessing, the actual day-to-day pregnancy hasn't been filled with joy - 24-hour sickness for 4 months and beyond and news of additional illnesses seemed like it filled each week. Tumors. Iron Deficiency. Possible Diabetes. Other complications. Each day has been a test.
We finally understand the importance of family.
We've sold things, traded down, cashed out, shed lots of tears, shared very few laughs, and yet, here we still are - relying only on our Faith to carry us forward. And honestly? That may just be enough.
However disappointing, I still find myself extending a brief thanks to you, 2007. Because of you we've learned:
- a great deal about who we are and what we stand for.
- what is important, and the petty things that aren't (that we can't be bothered with).
- who we can count on, who we can't, who can count on us.
- that we need to get our priorities straight in the New Year.
But for now, I'll bid you a not-so-fond farewell, 2007.
Here's looking toward Baby New Year (in more ways than one),
Jackie
