I was supposed to have my glucose test today so I took it off. They did it Monday night at the hospital but I decided to take the day off anyway. As a side note, seriously, that test is no big deal. The stuff tastes like super sweet Orange Crush. I mean I wouldn't want to drink it every day but it isn't gross or scary the way people act like it is. If I hadn't been in the throws of Swellfest 07 with Side Trip To Triage I might have liked it.
Everyone is being really great about what happened. My bosses have arranged a special schedule for me (which I was really scared about) so that I won't be on my feet too much. And they've told me if I need to leave, I need to leave and it is fine. We will work it out. I know that it would be a huge inconvenience for them if I went out early on bedrest (for me too) but I also know that they really want me and the baby to be safe. Which is a good feeling.
But my family is making me crazy. My dad sends me vaguely threatening emails about "keeping safe" and acts like I am breaking rules by going to work. For the record my doctor has not told me to stay home. She told me to "take it easy" and "do what I feel up to" which is exactly what I have been doing. To be honest, I am probably being too cautious but it is what feels right to me. But having my dad (who seriously is the worst person to do this because he doesn't take a sick day if he is DYING) lecture me about what is important? NOT HELPFUL. Even though I do recognize that he doesn't mean any harm and is trying to help.
I feel pretty good. I mean every joint in my body HURTS and my wedding ring wouldn't fit on my pinkie but I feel pretty good. To be fair my belly does HURT, which I am reassured is normal. I have this mental image of The Girl in there chipping away at my pelvic bone with a tiny rock hammer, admiring the shape she is creating and tucking the shards into her pocket (where would she have pockets you ask? My mother has been waiting for a grandchild since the beginning of time I am fairly certain she has found a way to sneak fetal dresses in there). I am in bed a lot, and am well caught up on Dr. Phil at this point. I just feel like a big bother and hate making everyone worry. I really will be fine. My current goal is to make it to Christmas. And then we will worry about January. And after that? We'll be at 37 weeks and girlfriend can fire when ready.
In the meantime, no one should worry. The dogs are taking good care of me, we have episodes of Forensics Files to watch on the DVR and Cheerios to eat. We're just fine.