Friday, January 16, 2015

Little Debbie's, Prune Juice and The Wish Factor

   Here's the beauty of was gonna say something here and it's totally slipped my mind. Musta been a lie. Matter of fact I'm quite sure it was a lie because now that I sit here, hiding in the bathroom at 2:30 a.m. to avoid waking my kids since I can't sleep, I can't think of one single thing about pregnancy that's even close to beautiful. Or cute. Miracle maybe, but not a pretty one. 

I have avoided complaining during this 5th (and final) pregnancy because of reasons I've previously explained already. But I'm done with that. I have 24 hours left and I'm about to let the real sh#t rip. No pun intended there, because my husband and best friend both know that has rarely happen in the last 60 days without the aid of warm prune juice, pineapple, or a stomach flu that dam near killed me. Trips to the bathroom have not been scarce though. If I gave a rough estimate I'd say in the last 60 days/nights I have been to the bathroom to pee/dribble/drip/or sometimes do nothing but cuss because her head dropped into my pelvis as I sat down and cut off pee flow, around 900 times. I got that number by guesstimating I went 15 times a day. I'd say some days I doubled that and some days it was less. Either way 900-1000 seems very accurate.  

Morning sickness lasted my entire pregnancy morning, noon and nights. The first 14 weeks or so I cried. And cried a lot. One can only do so much with parenting 4 boys when constantly trying to swallow down vomit. I discovered several pregnancies ago the trick to functioning through morning sickness is to never ever have a totally empty stomach. Therefore, I have ate every two hours like clockwork (except during the hours I had the stomach flu) for 39 weeks (ok, probably more like 34 because the nausea didn't start till about 5 weeks in). My go to quick snack of choice, Little Debbie's. Quick. Easy. Required no preparation. And made from bread so they stuck with me for a couple hours before I needed to snack again. Not only did they stick around in my belly and ward off puke, they also stuck to my ass, hips, legs, face, arms, toes and boobs. I tipped the scale last Tuesday at my final OB appointment at 201. Two Hundred and One Pounds. That's two Hundreds, Zero tens and one One's.

Besides the Little Debbie's I have eaten reasonably healthy. Fruits. Vegetables. Not a lot of meats. I took my multivitamins and I tried to stay somewhat active right up till my blood  pressure wouldn't allow it anymore. I suppose that's a side effect to straddling the fence of 35 because I never had a issue with BP before. Or it could be all the Little Debbie's laying heavy on my arteries. 

Why am I up at 3:05 a.m. you ask........ Well because I have reached that stage where Braxton Hicks make me cuss like a sailor and want to break knees of loved ones. 

The last few days I have had contractions 12 minutes apart when standing or laying like clockwork. But as soon as I get up and walk they disappear. A couple hours ago I had one so strong that it woke me from a sleep and sat me straight up out of the bed with my feet on the floor in one swift motion!! I got up and got dressed and started a load of laundry. I was prepared to start timing some contractions and hoping I didn't have to wake Danny up till at least sunup. Before I knew it 20 minutes had passed and I hadn't had another contraction. I sit and they start back. Then I walk and they disappear. It's been that way 72 hours now. 72 hours of on again off again labor. Maybe that's why it's slipped my mind that pregnancy is beautiful. That and the fact it takes prayer and prune juice to crap all the Little Debbie's. 

Danny claims I have "the wish factor" going on right now. 

"Ya see," he explains, "some people hope no one messes with them. But you dear Wish that someone would mess with you. Just so you can snap their little heads off and not feel guilty." 

I'd say that's accurate as well. 

Bless his sweet heart he's been such a good husband these 39 weeks. He's cooked and cleaned and played Momma and Daddy when he could. He's turned around and came back home when he sensed I was borderline nervous breakdown. He's rubbed my back, hips and legs and arms almost nightly when he was here. And he's looked at me like I was the most beautiful sight He'd ever seen when I was sitting beside him sipping warm prune juice. 

This pregnancy has been difficult on us all. Kids includded. They've had to really learn what it means to do a few things for themselves. Pick up after themselves. And the last little while we've been practicing what's appropriate behavior with a little girl in house. It's a work in progress. 

So hear we are down to the last few hours. My boobs leak and hurt. I've gained 70 pounds. I can't sleep. I can't sit. I can't lay down. I can't walk around without my Bp acting foolish. I pee 15 times a day and crap once a week on a good week. 
My face is spotty and swollen. My kids hate me. And Danny is jumpy when I make sudden movements because I have the "wish factor" going on. But come Saturday I will have a baby girl. After 16 years, four boys and an adoption that ripped out my heart......I will have a baby girl. That's the beauty of this pregnancy. That's what I meant to say. 

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