Doosey of a Week 15

image

Week 15 of pregnancy is coming to a close, and let me tell you, its been less than thrilling.

Baby: size of a navel Orange. I saw it a few times when I was in the hospital Tuesday. It appeared to be clapping all gospel music style. Then creepily turned and looked right at me! My Mom was there, she said “oh my gosh! It’s staring at us!” This baby is all about the dramatics.

Complications: Kool & the Gang are doing well. I however, woke up early Tuesday morning with the most intense stomach pains of my life. A few violent symptoms and hours later, I called my doctor. After a series of questions, my doctor insisted I head to the hospital. He was concerned that the catered deli sandwiches I ate the day before at a funeral may have given me food poisoning or listeria, and that I was suffering from dehydration. It is also important to note I did not throw up one time during my first trimester. I was sick and nauseous for sure, but I’m not a person who typically vomits. That said, the ‘violent’ symptoms I’m describing, well, it was just that. Bryant was in a meeting so my neighbour took me to the hospital. My Mom and Dad were still in New Jersey for my Uncles funeral, so they drove up to meet me at the hospital. My Mom stayed with me, and will be here until Tuesday. They took a bunch of blood, ran a bunch of tests, and gave me a few bags of iv fluid. They sent me home, and I was on a water and cracker diet for almost 48 hours. Exciting right? Turns out, after other family members called reporting the same symptoms, it is just the flu. But, little did I know, pregnant people really do not fair well when this sort of thing happens. Like I said, this baby is dramatic.

Cravings: More ice chips please.

Aversions: Everything.

Parenting: Since Baby Baby is due in March, relatively close to the Hunger Games movie release date, its been figured out that we can bring Baby Baby to the theatre and force a nap time. This may seem unimportant to most, but this essentially means that I will not bow down to Baby Baby’s schedule. Baby Baby will adapt to my schedule. You know those crazy people who are all “Oh sorry, I can’t come, that’s during Anastasia’s (ridiculous fake name chosen for illustration purposes) nap time” or “I only have 30 minutes for coffee, that is right in between Anastasia’s feeding and nap” …uh seriously? Your baby can’t sleep in their stroller at Starbucks? Yes, I know, I’m not a parent yet, but strict schedules will make my skin crawl. I’m more of a go with the flow kind of gal.

Bonus: Snazzy (Denise) kept my spirits up while I lay alone in the hospital bed awaiting my fate. I was consumed with fear thinking of all the ways that this baby is going to kill me. Snazzy lift my spirits by sending me a few other ways that baby could kill me:

Please add this to your “Ways Baby Could Kill You” List:
1) Spontaneous fetal combustion (that’s not a thing – I made it up. Sounds realistic, right?)
2) Karate chopping your organs (which would take a really long time to kill you – babies are pretty weak)
3) Busting through your chest a la Alien (which is anatomically incorrect, as the baby is in your uterus and not your chest. So maybe it will come out your belly button or something)
HAPPY TALK SO YOU STOP WORRYING YOUR BABY WILL SUDDENLY CATCH ON FIRE
She later sent an addendum, apologizing for the whole suddenly catch on fire comment. I was in a hospital after all. And I forgot to mention to her that when I arrived the fire alarm was going off in the hospital. Really awesome.
Advertisements

X-Factor

I don’t generally watch the various talent shows, but happened to catch X-Factor last night after Bryant and I watched Survivor. It was mildly entertaining, and there was some talent and some crazies of course, but the very last audition had me in tears. I have re-watched the audition 4 times today. I think for me, his story is the ultimate description of redemption and, well, second chances. Even if you don’t care about X-Factor, I assure you that this guy’s story will inspire you. Someone who made a series of bad decisions, but now, determined to do life differently.

 

Ikea

Our apartment has been undergoing some pretty intense construction this past week. My Mother in Law bought us furniture for the nursery (very generous, and so sweet of her), so boxes arrived early last week ready for assembly. However, because we do live in an apartment with awkward shaped rooms, we had to make a trip to Ikea to make some adjustments to current furniture in order to accomodate the new nursery furniture. Basically, the current queen sized bed that was taking up the majority of our guest bedroom had to be switched to a daybed that converted into a full sized bed so that we could turn guest bedroom into a dual nursery. So, on Saturday, we bought a space friendly daybed. We also decided to buy a sectional couch, which really had nothing to do with Baby Krongard except that we wanted more comfortable seating in our living room. As you remember, my precious Crate and Barrel couch is no longer with us.

Then we stood in the Home Delivery line (more like Bryant stood in the line while I sat on a bench playing Words with Friends). This line was 45 minutes long, you would think that Ikea would be more efficient, but for some reason it was taking a ridiculously long time. All of a sudden I hear what sounded like fighting. I look over, and these two guys are ghetto style talking down to each other. One of them is cussing like crazy, and the other guy just keeps saying “You feel stupid! Admit it!” Then I hear “BOOOOO!!!!!!” from the crowd of people. I text Bryant and say “what is with that fight?” and he said “Someone cut. I booed them.” I walked over and rejoined the line, because I didn’t want to miss the action. Apparently, a couple was standing in line for awhile and then left the line. They left the line for a solid 15 minutes, then came back and thought they could just jump right in front. The guy in front of Bryant was not happy. He said “You can’t just cut the line.” Guy says “Its ok. We were in line before.” Other guy says “But you left. The right thing to do would be to go to the back of the line.” Cutter Guy says “But we were here before, its fine” and then turns around. Other guy says “You feel stupid that is why you just turned around.” Cutter Guy turns back around “I don’t feel f****** stupid!” Other guy says “Yes you do. That is why you turned around. You feel stupid” Cutter Guy is cussing. Other guy “That is why you are using foul language, you feel stupid.” Meanwhile, Bryant is yelling “WE HAVE CUTTERS! BOOOOO!!! BOOOO!!!!!” My husband likes to heckle people, and rally people, so pretty soon the whole line is involved. The situation cooled down a bit, but the cutters were still at the front getting helped. As the Guy who was in front of us is leaving, Bryant and I start a slow clap. Bryant yells “Thanks for sticking up for the line!!” and the whole line starts clapping for him. This did not make the cutters very happy. As Guy is walking out the door he turns to the cutters and says “STUPID!” and then Cutter Guy goes crazy cussing again.

Anyway, our furniture was delivered that night. I wish I could say this made me happy. While I was happy with our purchases, I was not happy that even our couch was in a thousand pieces. It took us 2 hours to assemble our couch. Sunday, it took us from 9am to 6pm to assemble the daybed. The screws were stripping when we tried to screw them in causing some serious problems. At 1pm we contemplated throwing all of it into the car and driving it back to Ikea to return it. Somehow we found the will to power through. So it is assembled, though I’m not 100% convinced that its structurally sound. Bryant’s Mom is sleeping on it this weekend and then my parents will be sleeping on it next weekend, so we will see if they fall through in the middle of the night. I don’t think they will, I mean Bryant and I both tested it out, but there was a lot of “do not lay like this” pictures in the manual.

Ikea is kind of an illusion. While the prices are great, it isn’t really worth it. Our couch rules so I won’t speak badly about that, but this bed, if it doesn’t fit back out the door when we decide to move, I told Bryant he can beat the shit out of it with a sledge hammer.