Today, I am as many weeks pregnant as I am years old. I failed to say anything about it here at the time, but I had a pretty great birthday this year; lots to celebrate, clearly, and because I only get a real birthday once every four years, people made kind of a big deal about it. It was pretty wonderful. The first time in several years I could actually muster more than a meh for it.
Most of the time I don’t feel “old,” Cranky, most of the time lately, but not necessarily old – though I wouldn’t say that I feel especially youthful or anything, either. Anyhow, I knew better when I allowed baby gaga to send me weekly pregnancy update emails. But I did it anyway. The weekly detail emails were sometimes an interesting compare/contrast with BabyCenter, especially in the beginning where I could do little but obsess between the weekly ultrasounds. Now truly, not to disparage young mothers, but that site scares me a little. I would love to have been able to write that first sentence above at 27 weeks five years ago, if my first pregnancy hadn’t ended so swiftly – but even then I think I’d feel a little cranky at baby gaga. It’s like BabyCenter for the high school set…or something. Still, I hadn’t been truly regretful for the gaga email subscription until this morning:
For the Elton John lovers out there – baby’s got blue eyes. Actually, even if you’re too young to know who Elton is, all babies have blue eyes at this point.
REALLY?? Too young to know who Elton John is? I’m not his biggest fan, myself, but that’s just harsh.
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Now let’s talk about my blood pressure! (Isn’t that just the fountain of youth?) I was still way too cranked Tuesday evening and most of Wednesday, but after yoga I figured I should be back on an even enough keel to check it out, so I stopped at a pharmacy on my way home. First reading freaked me out – 141 over seventy-something. As I walked into the pharmacy, I had just gotten off the phone with a friend I’ve been playing extensive phone tag with, so I sat there for a minute just breathing and being quiet, then tried again. Much better at 116 over seventy something. To make sure it wasn’t a total fluke, I tried one more time. One hundred over seventy something. That satisfied me, but I should probably continue to check it…and also, try not to be so cranky. I’m sure it’s not helpful, but in my defense, well…aren’t people annoying? Don’t you think? No? Just me? Okay.
I wish I were exaggerating. I don’t want to be cranky. I need to get over it and make more of an effort to really savor these next several weeks. Work is making it difficult, to say the least, giving me nebulous at best information regarding my leave. I could go on a total tirade, but I guess that would be pretty stupid. Sigh. Let’s just say I’m..some word other than cranky…ill-tempered, then, to hear that I won’t be able to figure out exactly how much time I can afford to take until perhaps four weeks before my due date. I am fairly determined to take the whole 12 weeks “allowed” by FMLA, but…. I don’t even know what the end of that sentence is.
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Good thing to have checked off the list, or at least started toward checking off, is finding a pediatrician. We have an appointment with a practice that looks very promising on Wednesday. They have two offices that would be fairly convenient, and Saturday morning office hours. I’m just about sold, though it seems like I should obsess and research a bit more. We can always switch, right? Can’t possibly be as difficult as switching OB practices was.
I should have been in bed asleep a couple of hours ago. Not doing too well at the whole “sleep while you can” thing. Probably not helpful to the whole crankiness theme, either. Mastering the obvious, I am. Sweet dreams….