And then there’s the bloody LOGISTICS. Your favorite positions might not work anymore, and trying to find comfortable alternatives can feel a bit like playing Tetris.

and

(And by “it” I mean O-R-G-A-S-M-S and can you tell that I don’t write about sex that much? I am a delicate little flower. Painted by Georgia O’Keefe. You know. The ones that look like V-A-G-I-N-A-S.)

And the best not-sex-related part? How she figured out how to paint her toenails without her belly getting in the way. BRILLIANT. Who needs a husband when you have STAIRS. You must go read it for yourself.

When I went in for my last cervix check yesterday (Still closed! AndyZ is going to be in for a surprise tomorrow!) Dr. SoNice said, “So…want anything done to your tubes while I’m in there?” I thought about asking for a little sprucing up, add some ribbons or glitter or something. But, since we had considered getting them tied up for awhile, I figured that was probably more of what he was referring to. So I politely declined any modifications and just said, “No thank you.” I mean, it was nice of him to offer.

Today is the last day to get my pre-baby prep done. I dropped our comforter off at the dry-cleaners and ran to the bank yesterday. Today I have to take LilZ to get his haircut and pack NikkiZ to spend 3 nights at her Mimi and Dampaw’s house. I feel the same thing I’ve felt with my other two kids: HOW IN THE HELL AM I READY FOR THIS? And since I don’t think there’s anything I can do to actually get ready, I’m going to busy myself with the mundane. Maybe if I vacuum ONE MORE TIME, then I’ll feel ready to add another kid to my brood. Right? It does work that way…Right?

No? Oh well. Then I guess I’ll just veg out with a bag of chips and the latest issue of Entertainment Weekly. If I can’t prepare, I might as well take advantage of my last few hours of slovenly living before this other human demands to be sustained. Am I right?

NikkiZ, while more recent, is still just as faded. If not more so. If you were around here during that time, you know I did a series of blog posts (first one here) doing a play-by-play of the induction process. Up until things went horribly awry and I ended up being wheeled into the OR while crying for my husband fearing for our daughter’s life. IT WAS AWESOME. But – the point? I had been up all night (blogging…of course) and then was cut open and operated on and doped up with morphine. It created quite a haze for my daughter to be born into and I remember very little of it. I read the entries and the birth story and think, “Hmm. Funny. I don’t remember that.”

This time? I’m praying I will walk away with a very clear memory of the events leading up to my son’s birth. I plan on sleeping the night before (even if it requires someone bashing me on the head to knock me out) and I plan on documenting everything either digitally or with pen and paper as it goes on. I have been approaching this entire pregnancy as though it is going to be my last. Partly because we have that nasty habit of repeat miscarriages, but also because we’re not positive we are going to have anymore. So, I really want to make sure I have a good record of what happens the day this child is born. I want at least one of my kids to have the gift of their Mom’s sober and clear memory of their birth.

Or maybe I’ll just ask for the morphine early and just sleep through the entire thing.

So, if someone asks me today? I’ll just say, “I will be having this baby on Wednesday. NOW GET OUT OF MY WAY ‘CAUSE I’VE GOT SHIT TO DO.”

I found out that our Botanical Gardens, which you all know is my 2nd home, is having an overnighter on Friday. I got the email late because they have an email address on file I don’t always check daily. When I called? They were full. I was devastated. The idea of camping out at my favorite place in this town was SO AWESOME. They put me on the waiting list but the girl said, “You’re quite far down the list though.”

So, I played the I’m Having A Baby On Wednesday card. I started fumbling and saying things like, “Well – I wanted to do something really fun with my kids before our life gets crazy with the new baby and everything…and this was perfect because we come to the Gardens almost every weekend…it’s our favorite place and I was so excited when I found out we could spend the night there…and…” You get the point. I essentially groveled. It didn’t help. We’re still at the end of a very long waiting list and I’ve suddenly found myself REALLY hoping it will rain. I personally like camping in the rain – but I’m hoping the rest of the list doesn’t.

My point? I’m having a baby on Wednesday. And I really want to camp out at the Gardens on Friday but the first point did not help me at all with the second one. And if being scheduled to be cut apart doesn’t get you into a full camp out, THEN WHAT GOOD IS IT?

With NikkiZ, I splurged for a few nursing bras. I actually had money and thought I’d see what the fuss was about. Only to decide after a few weeks that they annoyed the hell out of me. I switched back to my old $10 system and called it the year. I nursed her successfully for 14 months never looking back.

It has come time for me to make that decision again – and I opted against the nursing bra. AGAIN. I simply went and bought the cheap (they’re $11 now, however) bras with the underwire and no padding. They are cotton and kinda ugly although I could have bought them in pretty colors if I wanted. I spent less than $40 on three while passing the $45 rack of nursing bras in the corner. I just couldn’t bring myself to spend that kind of money on a bra that I found useless and UGLY AS HELL.

Here is my question: Am I alone? Is there anyone else who has failed to find the usefulness of a nursing bra? Or maybe I’m just a rare lucky one? Because I do find myself very blessed that I don’t have to spend $45 dollars on a bra. That leaves me more money left to make up for all of the beer I haven’t been drinking the last 9 months.

In other words? The results are in: I’m a complete moron.

I’ll never stop pointing out how pregnancy makes me so much more of an idiot that I am on a normal day. I mean – I have my share of brain farts whether I’m gestating or not – but when I’m pregnant? It seems very easy for my brain to simply shut down. Which is kinda scary when you have human lives depending on you.

(Note to Stace: I promise your kids were still safe! LilZ and MrZ were still home so no worries! They would have covered my ass if I had done something stupid like set fire to the house!)

We’re less than two weeks away from Baby Time. My brain will have no choice but to reactivate at that point. And if it doesn’t? My permanent tagline on this site will be, “Come for the donuts, stay to read about the stupid shit I did today.”

Can you do the math on that one? I mean, I’m not doctor but…

(Hee.)

But seriously! I told him my ears were hurting because I was there and he had the Rx pad in his pocket and I figured if he could, he would just prescribe me an antibiotic and I’d be on my way and NOT have to wait at the doc-in-the-box down the road for three hours to get the SAME prescription. If they’d even give me one without making me call my OB first.

Luckily – I was right. He had no problem giving me the antibiotic. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the right tools on hand at first to check my throat or my ears since he is an OB, who rarely has to look into throats OR ears. So, he first told me to, “Open up and say, ‘ahhhh’” as he used the LIGHT THEY SHINE BETWEEN YOUR LEGS to look into my throat.

Please tell me that’s as hysterical to everyone else as it is to me! Now – it wasn’t unsafe or anything, he was plenty far back and it didn’t even seem gross. I’m just saying, it was weird. He was taking the light he usually aims between a woman’s legs and SHINING IT IN MY FACE. It took every bit of will power I could must not to crack up laughing.

It is just me, isn’t it?

I edited the crap out of the photos we took of NikkiZ painting my belly this weekend. (Dear P-Dub, can you make an “Unpregnant” action next time? None of the actions you made with the last batch seem to help remove my giant stomach and stretch marks.) I know most women hate their appearance when they’re pregnant, so I’m sure you can relate. BUT – I also know how much I enjoy looking back on pregnant photos, once I’m not longer there. So, I resisted the initial urge to delete them all and just edited them so much that they almost appear tolerable to this very-sick-of-being pregnant woman.

I’ve been really down about being pregnant this last month or so. Pretty much since I had that dreadful cough for that week. My allergies have not let up since and although Claritin and Benadryl have been approved, neither of them to do any good. And it’s really impairing my ability to sleep, which makes me KRAZEE. I get overly emotional without solid sleep and I’m hitting that point of exhaustion where I’m crying at the drop of the hat. And usually, no matter what is making me cry, I’ll throw in some sort of line about how hard it is to be pregnant and not get any sleep.

For example:

OnStar commercial airs on the radio where some girl has pushed the button because her Mom had a seizure and she wrecked the car. I start crying (like I do often with those damn commercials) and then go into some tirade about how it’s so hard to be a perfect Mom all the time! Much less if your epileptic! Or pregnant! And I ranted about how much harder it is to be pregnant with a toddler to care for because they don’t understand! And then I cry even harder.

Here’s the kicker: I’m the only one in the car.

Essentially? I’ve lost my freakin’ mind.

So, If you see a large and sneezy pregnant woman with dark circles and big bags under her eyes in the produce department at the grocery store crying while holding an orange angrily in her hand? Just move along and say a silent prayer for her poor family.

So, I decided to pee. Without locking the door.

For those of you who haven’t tried to pee in a cup while 36+ weeks pregnant, let me just explain the procedure. You hover and hold the cup and just pee with wreckless abandon praying you’ll hear the pee hitting inside the cup. You can’t aim because you can’t see past your belly. In other words? It’s nearly impossible to do it with any sort of grace.

Which is why, when someone opens the door to the bathroom, you are possibly in the least glamorous position you’ve ever been in. EVER.

Now – luckily I was in a very hunched position to begin with so I was able to lunge towards the door to shut it before I made eye contact with anyone on the other side. But – can you guess what happened to my sample? It ended up in the toilet. Which means I walked out with lost urine AND lost dignity.

It was completely awesome.

I have no idea who opened the door. Oddly enough, there was no one outside the bathroom when I exited. No nurses or patients in the usually crowded area. I don’t know if everyone ran off because they were embarrassed to have either (a) opened the door on me or (b) not stopped someone from opening the door on me. I know I would have run like a bat out of hell. But not everyone is as mature as I am.

Either way – the next time? I’ll either find a way to lock the door, or I’ll insist on using the other bathroom. I don’t have enough dignity left to lose if it happens again.

Whatever it is – it is totally adding to my sex appeal. Don’t you think? I mean…I was hot before. The swollen feet and blotchy skin generally increases my HOTT factor by about 100 daily, but this swollen and red eye? Makes me totally irresistible. Ask my husband. He can’t keep his hands off me.