Stressballin’

Not sure why, but I’ve been a little wiggy lately.  Well actually that is horse shit, I know exactly why. There has been a lot going on, but like a good little westerner, I try to gloss it over, pull up the big-girl pants (getting bigger by the day) and troop on.

A couple of weeks ago I had a little tiff with my doctor, which ended with me firing his ass. Long story short, he casually presented me with results that were not mine and could have had dire consequences if they were. The whole conduct I found quite unprofessional and then in trying to see the actual results and setting shit straight, they were less than cooperative. This caused an incredible amount of stress for both me and presumably baby Bean, that was entirely avoidable. Over a week later and I’m still waiting for a callback from the office, despite following up several times. So, off with their heads – there is no chance that I want that doctor anywhere near me when it comes time for delivery. I’m on the hunt for a new OB now – the best in the world preferably, because I have a bit of a built-in distrust for the medical profession in general.
Husband gets 5 stars for his performance during the whole episode. While I turned into a blubbering sobbing mess that spent half a day crying at the dog park, he shook the network into action, got facts, lined up tests, brought me bubbly water with lemon and put the world right again. He’s going to make a great daddy.

Then a good friend had himself a little heart episode and is currently in the hospital getting that condition under control. He’s one of the lucky ones that actually had warning signals and heeded them, so everything looks like it will have a fabulous ending there. Phew.

So between those two big ones and a few smaller stressors, I must have let my guard down a little, because Nausea showed up again. She’s not as feisty as the first time around so thankfully I’m not feeling as dreadful.  Just shrunken appetite and predictable sink spewing – especially in the kitchen. I don’t know what it is about my kitchen sink, but it’s become my all-time favorite location for puking. Perfect counter height, great access to fresh water to rinse my mouth out after and a pleasant view out the kitchen window as I retch. So much better than using a toilet – I’m really surprised this isn’t covered in the pregnancy books.  And lo and behold, this time it’s true morning sickness, and I feel fine for the rest of the day.

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