08 September 2011


I don't want to alarm you or anything but I'm pretty sure I'm going to die any day now. The cold from hell that comes & goes & comes & goes is staging its most interesting incarnation yet - the dry, hacking cough AND the snot/phlegm chucking. These are two stages that shouldn't be able to exist at the same time but lucky me, I'm the living petri dish they've decided to experiment in. The best part is somewhere around 3.00am when they meet in a coughing, snotty, choking fit that sets this very pregnant lady off to the bathroom quick-smart lest the feet or head or whatever on my bladder give me just that extra push in the dignity department. Then I can't breathe, can't blow my nose, can't make anything feel better & just keep hacking & apologizing to Marcel that I'm keeping him awake too. May have to move to the couch tonight.

I have less than 3 weeks left until this baby arrives & pregnancy-wise I feel like a million bucks so I should be sleeping like a fiend because the newborn nights are just around the corner but nooooo, the coughing snot fairy is no fan of mine. I did get a tip this morning about one brand of cough medicine that pregnant ladies are allowed to take & I nearly tap-danced to the chemist to pick up a bottle but I have to say I didn't experience any miracles. The warning said "may cause drowsiness," which for me usually means a solid 16-hour coma followed by a medicine hangover but this didn't even make my quick nap any easier. I declared today (Ben's daycare day by the way) a sick day & haven't left the bed since I got home from getting medicine but it really hasn't helped & now I feel grumpy that I haven't accomplished any of the housecleaning & crap that I originally planned on doing. I'm still not leaving bed until I have to pick Ben up just for the principle.

And yes, I have less than 3 weeks left until Fonzie's unveiling. Yesterday was my 36 week checkup - all is well, nothing exciting to report other than that we set the birth date! It will be Wednesday, the 28th of September so 3 weeks from yesterday on our calendar. They don't give out exact times since the operating theatre schedules have to be flexible for emergencies blah blah blah but we have a morning slot at least so please think of us at 6am that day as we trudge in there with my diva-worthy pile of hospital necessities. I'm planning on writing a separate blog dedicated to the over-organizing I have done in the hospital bag(s) department & something tells me that I won't walk out the door to C-Section Land without a final shout-out on facebook & something overly dramatic on here so don't worry about memorizing our date & time just yet, though you're very sweet for trying.

Okay there is something on my mind that I'd like to share. I had bad news yesterday & I will get into that shortly but first I need to brag about something I have NEVER bragged about before & got understandably overshadowed by the bad news. I got the best parking spot yesterday at the hospital. Not the closest, not by far, but it was magical. It was one of those tiny spots tucked behind a back elevator that everyone else passed by & I did too a few times in the laps around the full parking garage because it was almost impossible to see & even more impossible for anyone to fit into. It was marked "small cars only" & I made a snide comment in my head that only a clown car could fit into it, then I remembered that hang on a minute, I happen to drive a clown car! With the angle I couldn't even go into the spot nose first & I was forced to face one of my least favorite things, parking in reverse. I don't know why but I have a mental block about driving in reverse with any kind of aim - I get the concept of the mirrors & not turning the steering wheel, etc. but I seriously get this weird vertigo feeling & feel slightly out of control no matter what. I am desperately googling old school surfing pictures because I feel like those terrible actors used to look - standing way at the front of their board, straight up, arms flailing out to the side, making bizarre smiley faces. Hilariously, while I couldn't find the image I wanted this is also somewhat appropriate:

So yes, I got my tiny car into the tiny spot on the first try with no drama & even managed to squeeze my ginormous pregnant ass out of the car without too much spectacle - true I had to hoist Ben out of the wrong side of the car because only one of us could have appropriate space for our door to open but he doesn't care about such things. I wanted to high-five someone or at least point out my awesome spot to them but the only people around were in the zombie-fied state of driving in circles up & down the parking garage themselves so I kept my smugness to myself. Later when I left some doofus in a station wagon was super-psyched that he was scoring my spot but there is no way he could fit his real-sized car in there so I was still smug as I drove away. So there you go, the most boring story ever about something completely unimportant. Mark that off your to-do list for the day!

But back to real life, my gorgeous grandfather passed away yesterday. I am still trying to get my head around it myself & don't feel like I'm really reacting appropriately to the news - I'm obviously incredibly sad but there is so much guilt at being so far away from him & that I couldn't see him recently. I realize that in the scheme of things it probably wouldn't have been good to see him as he was at the end but I do feel terrible that I'm not there for everyone else. Not that I'm some rock of support but everyone plays their role when the family's down & I imagine my role would be reminding everyone that we shouldn't forget to eat ... preferably at Cracker Barrel or Ole Neighborhood or somewhere else that I have been craving food from but you get the point, family should be together when times are tough. My wise mother pointed out that even if I lived somewhere else just in America it's not like I could fly in at almost 9 months pregnant with the cold from hell lurking within me. It would be just like me to steal the thunder at a funeral by going into labor or tinkling myself from a coughing fit or something.

Anyway, once I get my head a little less fuzzy I'll tell you more about my grandfather because you would have loved him. He would think you have a weird haircut but he'd keep it to himself because he was cool like that. Just kidding, your hair is fabulous just the way it is.

So there, we're all just pushing on. Well, I'm not pushing anything because I don't want this child coming until I'm nice & healthy - some of you may remember I got a cold right after Ben was born & that was not pleasant. Basically I was leaking everywhere that a lady can leak thanks to the joy of birth (yep, even c-sectioners get the weeks of bleeding), breastfeeding & runny nose. I think my mom has a picture of me on the couch with Ben in those first few days with tissues stuffed up my nose looking like deep-fried poop & I'd like to avoid that again if at all possible. Which reminds me that I need to go book a hair appointment!

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