I typically try not to post my whine fests. This is probably because I know some of my friends and family follow this blog and I don't want to come across as a complete idiot/wimp/failure. But THIS SUCKS. There are times where I can see the blessings around me and I'm grateful for those experiences, but there are times when I honestly kind of wish I could be DONE. "She may be premature, but most babies born this early are typically fine, so let's do it!" I will admit those thoughts have become more and more frequent with every @!$# contraction I have. It isn't fun being stuck on the couch all day, every day, not being able to help my dear, sweet, poor husband in any way, shape, or form. The poor man has it 3 on 1 right now. It was a full time job keeping the house clean when it was 2 vs 2, and right now he is being sorely defeated by laundry, Barbies, Legos, and random assorted crap that I swear little evil goblins create and leave around when we aren't looking. I mean, today I stepped on a little storage box that has been under my bed for over a year. NO ONE KNOWS WHERE IT CAME FROM. Little goblins from Hades, you aren't helping anything!!
I am finding it harder and harder to stay down like I am supposed to. My kids need me, my husband needs me, and I am ready to have my life back. I know that Annie needs me right now, too, and I try to keep that in mind as I suffer through this. She needs to "cook" as long as possible, and I feel horrible for hoping that she does come a little early. It is just that idea of going through this for SEVEN MORE WEEKS almost makes me want to drink Castor Oil, jump on a trampoline, go bowling, and pretty much every other Old Wives' Tales out there for inducing labor. Not that I'd really need to do any of that...I have been having contractions since mid December. Not the Braxton Hicks painless practice contractions. The real-deal-I-want-to-punch-every-male-human-being-in-the-stomach kind. I've just been having them slowed down by medication and laying down, thanks to my doctor.
What is funny is that my doctor is male. And I typically like him very much. He's nice, funny, and a BYU fan (he is also a U of U fan, but we don't talk about that). And he (usually) doesn't say dumb stuff like my doctor out in Idaho did. ("Oh, don't worry. Labor isn't as painful as some women would have you think." That coming from a man, who, last time I checked, didn't have the ability to push a human being out of his uterus. HOW COULD HE POSSIBLY KNOW?? He was 100% WRONG, by the way...he is just lucky that the flipping anesthesiologist hit the wrong nerve and rendered me temporarily paralyzed. Otherwise he probably would have gotten a black eye somewhere in the 21 painful hours it took to get Jayden here...) This last appointment, though, I kind of wanted to smack him and make snide remark about his U of U education. He had the nerve to say "Well, it is only 7 more weeks! You're getting close!" Now, I know he was trying to be optimistic and cheer me up, and I also know that he doesn't really expect me to make it all the way to 40 weeks, but I am to that point where I don't want to hear that crap. It isn't "only" seven weeks. It is seven weeks of bang-my-head-against-the-wall-torture. I have just barely made it through six weeks. I honestly think that it will be a flipping miracle if I make it through the next 3 weeks without having a severe mental/emotional breakdown.
I know that I have a really crappy attitude tonight. I'm tired, hormonal, uncomfortable, and my toes look like Vienna sausages. And I can't reach them anymore to paint them. Totally random last complaints, I know, but this is my pity party. I just needed to get these thoughts out of my head. Going back and reading them helps me to see where I need to focus my energy. I need to get more sleep (as I sit here typing this at 1:30 in the morning...), find peaceful non-mess-making activities to do with my kids (such as reading stories together and playing some small games), accept help when it is offered (no matter how embarrassed I am with people seeing my dirty laundry), and increase my scripture reading, prayers, and "journal writing" (aka posting to my blog). I've been neglecting to do a lot of those things this last week, and I truly feel that is where all of my negativity has come from. I hope that I can follow through with these goals this week and get back to being happy about my situation. I also hope that some way, some how, Dan's burden can be lifted so we can enjoy this time and prepare for Annie's arrival.