I’ve reached a new low

April 30, 2008

My ice cravings finally got so bad that I did the unthinkable.  I bought ice.  Gasp.  I was growing tired of refilling the trays at home and stopping for the good small ice chips at restaurants, so I bought a big bag of ice that barely fit in my freezer for about $2.89.  Not so bad, really, considering that I’ve probably spent that in gas money (HA! more than that, I’m sure) driving to fast food places to ask for free ice in the biggest cup they can spare.  Speaking of that, I got reprimanded at Wendy’s (did I already mention that?) and then proceeded to feel guilty every time I tried to get ice without buying anything.  If I’m actually eating something, that’s different – if they’ll give you free water, they will give you free ice.  So, now I have a nice little supply that should last me the rest of this week (I think).  They’re not ideal ice chips, but rather the round kind that are about an inch long and have a hole through the middle.  Still, they’re better than homemade ice. 

Did all of that sound as completely ridiculous as I think it did??  Good.  That’s my life.

So, my doctor’s appointment yesterday revealed that I have gained more like four pounds in two weeks, rather than what I was hoping for at a pound per week.  I’m not going to freak out about this because my doctor says it’s just fine.  It’s just that I have this fear of hitting forty pounds gained in a pregnancy.  I know, I probably have readers that have gained a whole lot more than forty, but so far, thirty-three is the most I’ve gained in a pregnancy and I’d love to keep it that way.  It just makes it easier to lose the weight afterward. 

Other than weight, my doctor seemed pleased with everything.  I’m measuring large for where I’m at, which is not a suprise because my babies come big.  In fact, she didn’t suggest a change in my due date, but just agreed with me that the baby is big like Jenny was (and Elias should have been).  When I mentioned the fact that I’ve been getting Braxton Hicks very frequently even when I’m sitting down, and that they hurt, she said she figures I’ll be early.  I’m not convinced of this, but you never know.  I am convinced that Elias being born early was my fault and not the way it should have been.  I expect to be late.  I expect..to be…late.  Sigh. 

The highlight of the day (Tuesday) was making sweet potato and avacado sushi and going to a friend’s house for lunch.  She kept Elias for me while Jenny and I went to the doctor, which is always a treat.  That little boy does not like being confined to a stroller and does not like being told what to do (i.e. sit still, don’t stand up in the stroller, come back here, you little…).  Jenny does somewhat better, although the draw of the play area is a bigger thing for her than her brother.  I brought her with me yesterday because she has now had diarrhea for more than three weeks.  She doesn’t seem sick, is eating fine, hasn’t had a fever, but seemingly can’t get back to normal digestion.  So now I get the super fun task of collecting a stool sample.  Hooray for me!  I am willing to go through it, because obviously, a small child who can’t process things normally is somewhat worrisome.  They’re testing her white blood cell count and in the middle of the night last night, all I could think about was leukemia.  I laid there crying, attempting to go back to sleep and imagining life without my beautiful Jenny.  This is a very bad habit.  Before I had her, when Mike still went out of town for work, I would imagine all sorts of awful things when he was five minutes late calling or getting home.  And now that I have children, I have three people to think this way about (well, four, because I also worry that I might lose the baby). 

Turns out Jenny has only one symptom of leukemia – the diarrhea thing – and I shouldn’t worry.  Not only that, but if it became something we had to face, my cousin went through it when she was three or four and so my family has been there before.  I shouldn’t worry anyway, because I know it’s not good for me and God doesn’t like it (really…I imagine it breaks His heart that we worry so much sometimes). 

Well, now that I’ve brought back my fears and cried a little more, I think I’ll go read about food.  I always feel better when I do that. 

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