What time is the right time...?

Nothing will make a pregnant woman more worried and paranoid than talking to other pregnant women.

Unfortunately, I often resist going to the doctor for some reason or another. Usually I understand that I am just being paranoid, but mostly I just don't want to admit that something might be wrong.

I ended up freaking out at work yesterday, so I called my doc. She told me to come in and they would check for the heartbeat to make sure everything was alright. Well, to leave work and not be penalized, I needed a note from the doctor so that it will go against my FMLA. The doctor does not write notes. It's just their policy. She said that I could get a note from the emergency room, but unfortunately, FMLA requires a note from my OB, not the emergency room or any other doctor... just her.

So I was freaking out and someone went to talk to a Supervisor about it. She came over and explained that I could leave, but I would have to take points. With our attendance policy, you get X amount of points for however many hours of work you miss. When you get too many points, you are terminated. I'm not dangerously close to termination, but close enough that I will not leave work unless I've got severe bleeding or I lose a limb.

After talking to me for a bit, she realzied that I was not leaving-- the plan was to just stay at work and freak out until my shift ended, then go to the ER.

She finally went to talk to scheduling and they approved the rest of the day off for me. I rushed to the doc.

Everything was fine, but I got scolded for not coming in sooner. Then they gave me a list of reasons to come in right away... sure enough "decreased fetal movement" is on there in big, bold letters.

However, now I seem like this crazy lady that doesn't care about her fetus. I know that my baby should be more important than my job, but... my job pays the bills... and buys things I want... and feeds me so that the baby can grow.

Maybe it's because, deep down, I knew that everything was fine. Maybe I'm just crazy. Either way, it would have killed me to know that my delay had caused a problem, but I would have been equally upset to put my job in jeopardy when everything was alright.

How do you know when it's okay to freak out?

Pant Intervention

For the last few weeks, My Husband has been hounding me to get some maternity pants. I'm not real big yet, so I really didn't think it was time to give up and shell out the cash for them. After having to unbutton my pants when I sat down, and always having my zipper undone, (Not to metion the snide remarks about turning our 1 fetus into 2... I call the top half!) I finally gave in and went to Motherhood with Our Roommate.

Holy cow, why didn't someone tell me they were so comfy?

I bought two pairs, and right now I'm thinking that I got them too big. They keep sliding down and I have to tug them up all the time. One of my coworkers, who just had a baby, says that I will grow into them. I'm really not sure since the legs are also too big. I hope she's right because it seems awkard right now.

The upside is that I can now breathe and Flipper is no longer in grave danger of becoming quadruplets, so I guess I can deal with a few weeks of sagging pants. At least the big elastic part keeps you from seeing my undies, however cute they may be.

I'm really considering hanging on to these after I give birth... they're so roomy. No odd bunching or zipper marks, it's almost like someone really thought this idea through.

Clean, clean, clean

I guess I've started nesting or I got a touch of spring fever because last weekend all I wanted to do was clean. I went through drawers and cabinets clearing things out and throwing things away, which is quite unlike me. I am a terrible packrat and I'm always afraid to get rid of anything. I just know as soon as I toss out that old left boot, I'll find the right one somewhere I would have never thought to look.

Yes, I really need those 8 broken dvd players, they could save my life! "Honey, where's the screwdriver?" "See that pile of laundry? Turn left, go 5 steps and open the top right drawer. It's in the very back underneath the three sets of earbuds that don't work."

I had to clean out our dining room because the pile was overtaking the living room. Right now, since we don't have a dining table, we mostly use that for storage and for our extra computer. One of our computers is on the "technology ledge" right between the guest bathroom and Our Roommate's room. We don't use this one but I can't think of anywhere else for it to go. The other is a semi-functional laptop in our living room. The screen went out last year, so we just bought a monitor to hook it up to. This totally defeats the purpose of having a laptop. The "good" computer is hidden behind a wall of stuff in our dining room. It has it's own little desk that is slowly becoming covered with all of the decor that won't fit anywhere else.

Right next to the good computer, we have a wonderful, well-stocked bar. It has a nice hutch with glass doors and a large storage area on the bottom. In the name of extra storage, I cleaned out the bottom of the bar. This is where I am currently storing baby stuff, as well as things that just don't fit anywhere else.

It was a sight to see, I assure you. The space I had to sit in was far more narrow than my hips, so I had to sit sideways. Everytime I needed something, I had to call for someone to bring it to me-- I was stuck. The only option was to clean my way out.

While I was in there, I found a bag of autumn decorations that I forgot to use. Someday they will make their way to my Halloween box, but for now they are quietly guarding our computer, tucked between the extra coffee table and a tote full of game boxes-- exactly where it belongs.

I'm so excited...

For once, I am finally following my Mother's advise the first time around. The last time I was at the grocery store, I bought a pack of diapers. The plan is to buy a few packs of each size to try and relieve some of the financial burden once the baby is here.

The problem? Where the hell am I going to put all of this baby stuff!

We don't have room for a crib, so I'm pretty sure the baby will be sleeping in a dresser drawer until we are able to figure something out. We're stuck in our lease until November unless My Husband gets orders to move. We could use our "freebie" and the military would pay for us to move on base, but we would have to pay a fee to break our lease.

I have some concerns about becoming a mother and seeing the diapers just keeps bringing them to the forefront of my thoughts. I'm worried about the parts that aren't going to be much fun like diaper changing, temper tantrums, potty training... mostly any situation that could potentially involve poop.

I'm also worried about how we will connect. What are we going to talk about? Occasionally, I will talk to our neighbors kids. When I can figure out what they are saying, I usually just stare at them and think about how stupid they sound. Am I going to judge my own child as harshly? Does this make me a bad person and a bad mom?

I'm not always in the mood to be around people, but this thing is going to be completely attached to me for the first year of it's life. After that am I going to push it away and hope that it finds a friendly pack of coyotes to pick up where I left off?

Childhood is weird and awkward enough, but this poor kid is going to have to live up to my expectations, and frankly, I don't know if they're going to succeed. I am judgmental, harsh, callous and sometimes cruel. I do not mean to be, but sometimes it's really hard to stop myself. I try not to hurt people on purpose, but I know I do it by accident all the time.

Is my child going to resent me? Probably.

With any luck, it will be able to look past my faults and understand that I'm not perfect. During it's teen years, it will hate me and I'll wish we'd used a condom, but I hope that once it is my age, it will at least know that I tried my best.

And if things go awry, at least the coyotes will keep it warm.