I was planning a baby shower for my sister-in-law (on Tony's side), cleaning, buying groceries, making Tony crazy with my requests, and rolling balls. Cake balls, that is.
All was good - I had the house decorated, cleaned, food ready and prepared for everyone to cram into our house. I even had my parents bring over plants, pumpkins and other items needed for that next day. Yes, they are awesome...not only do they provide me with supplies, but my mom knows how many plants I could destroy in a matter of minutes, so she prepares for that.
Long story short, I was ready to throw this shindig. So in celebration of my party-readiness, we went out for drinks for a friends 30th birthday. Multiple wings were eaten and two beers consumed. I'm numbering my adult beverages because I would like all of you to know I'm not always a lush, and I can control my drinking....when it comes to beer.
So after going home at a decent hour and preparing a checklist of what to do the next day, I was shocked when I woke up at 6:30 am with pains that not even pregnant ladies should feel when they are birthing children.
While cramping up, and breathing lamaze style for a few hours, we made the decision that it was in fact not constipation (TMI?) and that a trip to the emergency room was in store.
Awesome. We crossed our fingers for a small wait and quick relief.
Neither really happened...so we waited.....and waited...and some of us cramped up multiple times. The doctor came in and told us it was probably a lot of gas.
Really? Gas? You're telling me that I feel like crap because I have gas? Oh no, no, doctor, that is not gas. Tony joked that this would make a really good episode of Grey's Anatomy. Yes, darling, because right now all I want to think about is how I would make that awkward patient that had gas instead of something really wrong.
|So we think you have gas.|
While waiting for the CT, the pains came and Tony stood by my side, telling me to breath and holding my hand. And we both realized that this was preparation for childbirth. I have a feeling I may be yelling more expletives at that moment.
|We're going to be ready for this baby thing in no time!|
What?? No...no sir...I am not having anything in my rear until I'm at least 50. That's what's supposed to happen!
Ugh. After hearing those dreadful words, more x-rays and blood work, I now have to follow up with a GI doctor to figure out what the heck is going on. And until then, my diet consists of the BRATT diet...in other words, bananas, rice, applesauce, tea and toast. And since my texture issues come into play, it's pretty much been toast and water this week. And soup - I forgot that I was cleared for soup.
|Just give me some cheese! Make me a sandwich!|
I've never wanted a salad more in all of my life. But this girl can't have any roughage. Awesome.
So we wait. Wait for doctors, wait for stress levels to go down, and wait until I can have an actual meal. At least my CT scan would have made a better episode than just gas.