This week I have big plans for packing my hospital bag and getting some last minute things done like washing breast pump accessories (bottles are washed and in place!), putting items in the baby's dresser (we finally moved it from Silas' room into the baby room), etc.
So a funny story about my 34 week appointment that I didn't share before...it took me a good week to be able to laugh about it and I think you'll find it funny too. When I first walked into my appointment, the (very pretty) nurse had me weigh in. My weight was up way more than what I thought was acceptable and it hit me hard. My mood immediately changed and I just wanted to be left alone, not talk to this (very pretty...and did I mention thin?) nurse. She took my blood pressure, asked some basic questions and left. The tears started right away while I tried to keep Silas entertained and out of the drawers and in one spot. I finally composed myself right before the doctor came in, my the red-rimmed and puffy eyes must have clued her in...as well as my short responses. Why can't anyone read body language? Leave me alone! She asked a few times, "are you sure there isn't anything else you want to talk about?" "Nope, I'm good!" I kept telling her I tried to chase Silas around the room. He jumped up in a chair to turn up the music in the room and that was it. I put my head down and the tears came, not and fast. I kept my head down while crying and said "ok, thanks! That's all, thank you..." Se didn't get a clue. I looked up and then the tears came faster. "Oh! Oh! What's wrong? Oh!" Seriously, lady...go away. I assured her several times I was fine, just emotional that day and practically ran out of the office with her trailing me still trying to talk. I finally made it with Silas to the car, him asking me why I was crying ("I don't know, buddy. Sometimes Mommies just cry") and drove off. The crying became so hard on the way home that I had to reach into my glove compartment for a throw up bag and literally threw up. Silas went the whole car ride home not saying a word (and probably thinking, "my Mom's a nut!"). Poor kid. I got home, put him down for a nap and continued to sob. Really? All this over a measly weigh in, that in all honesty really wasn't that crazy???? I'm telling you, hormones!! I read something last night that talked [jokingly] about pregnancy-induced multiple personality disorder. Jake and I laughed, and yet I think maybe it's a real thing. :) I don't remember being this emotional with Silas as often as I have been this time around. Oh, and just a warning....don't even think about touching the AC setting or you will see true multiple personality disorder come unleashed. ;)
One more last thought before you get the impression that I going crazy. I read somewhere last week that a pre-schooler laughs 300 times a day. This has really stuck with me and has given me new joy watching Silas laugh. Why don't we laugh as much the older we get? It's a rhetorical question because I know why - life complications, stress, responsibilities, etc. But let that soak in a while. Laughing 300 times a day. It makes me saddened for children whose childhood is robbed of such joy because of abuse, neglect, angry parents, poverty, rape, etc. I don't want Silas' childhood to revolve around making her he's happy, because that will lead to one very spoiled and unhappy teen/adult. But I want to relish his giggles and tickle him a little more and see if I can be the cause for some of those 300 laughs a day.
