1 Mar 2016

Bed

Foreword - This post is not for the squeasmish. 

I'm writing this post from my sick bed.

Yes, you read that correctly.  Sick bed.

Again.

For goodness sake.

I have been struck down with the dreaded diarrhoea.  Or as Juffin likes to call it, the arse pissing.  Delightful I know, but strangely apt.

Last night I felt fine.  I watched my fave shows, MKR and Downton, and then I went to bed.  Channel Seven has not paid me for this post but they should.  I love MKR and Downton.

I was woken abruptly by the Mushroom crying outside our room trying to get the door open around 1am.  I got up and let him in and baby Beet started jumping around.  I lay on my side for a while as I got crampier in the guts and thought, maybe I just need to fart.

Instantly realised that I definitely didn't need to fart and I made it to the toilet just in time.

Also I should note here that our ensuite toilet is not working at present so I had to dash down the hall to the main toilet.

Heavily pregnant hallway dashing at 1.23am is fun ya'll.

So began my long night as my bowels evacuated themselves in a torrent and, in some sort of sick coincidence, the heavens also opened up and we got buckets of rain.

This morning it was ongoing and I can tell you something, I'm fucking over it.

Hydralite, water and a potato are all that have passed my lips and I still feel twisty and gross.

Weird thing is that on Saturday night I took myself to bed early as I was having stabbing pains in my nether regions and my vjayjay felt like it had been kicked by a mule.

On Sunday morning I felt an overwhelming urge to scrub our ensuite from top to bottom on my
hands and knees with a toothbrush.  In the nude.  As attractive as that imagery is, it's prudent to remember how much I hate cleaning.  Like so much hate.  Is this nesting?  Already?  Because it's way too fucking early for that shit.  (You should see the ensuite though, sparkling!)

24 hours later, it's the diarrhoea.  Bowels spontaneously evacuating themselves can also be a sign of pre-labour.

Now let's not jump to any hasty conclusions, but I am so not ready for this baby.  It cannot in no uncertain terms come out yet.  I still have three weeks of work left and 6.5 whole weeks of baby growing left!  I haven't washed anything!  I haven't put up the hammock or the change table.  I haven't washed the carseat or installed the new one.  I haven't settled on middle names and I am not ready to do this ALL OVER AGAIN!

Also, my midwife is on holidays until Easter.

This baby is staying in there until then.

Can someone please tell the baby that?

I'm freaking out.
Freak out Face