Stick a fork in me, I'm done

Hey Jakey,

Did I ever tell you what an easy pregnancy you were? No? That's because you weren't. But compared to this one, you were a walk in the park with a piece of cake.

This is maybe the hardest thing I've ever done.

When I went in for my first appointment with Dr. K back in April, she asked me if I wanted to do the tubal ligation that we had talked about earlier, that I never went through with. I told her that I would have to think about it. I knew I probably wouldn't want any more kids, but the final-ness of getting my tubes tied unsettled me. Made me sad. I thought living out the rest of my few remaining child-bearing years under threat of maybe getting with child again would be a slap in the face of getting OLD. One last youthful thrill-ride.

Well, all these months later, I'm ready to perform the tubal myself with a rusty butter knife.

I signed the paperwork last week, and Dr. K will put an end to this madness. During the same procedure that she brings your little sister into the world, she'll be cutting and cauterizing the bits and pieces that made her possible.

Here then, because it's a pregnant woman's prerogative to bitch and moan, is my Thursday Thirteen of reasons I am soooooooo done with this being-pregnant business:

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1. I feel 10 times more pregnant than I ever did with you.
I feel worlds bigger. I find it more difficult to walk, drive, work, stand, sit, sleep. All because this baby feels ENORMOUS. I used to think that those women who made a big deal about getting up off a couch or getting out of a car were ridiculous. Ha, the joke's on me.

2. Keeping my various weekly doctor appointments is like holding down another full-time job.
For God's sake, people. It's just mildly elevated blood pressure. But I'm being treated as if I've contracted bubonic plague.

My week:
Monday morning: standing appointment with Dr. K in South Lake
Monday late morning: standing appointment at hospital for non-stress test in South Lake
Wednesday: appointment with perinatologist for growth scan in Reno
Thursday: standing appointment at hospital for non-stress test in South Lake

Then there's all that non-baby stuff: Tuesday work meetings all day in Reno, Friday meeting with your SLP, not to mention I'm snack mom again at school. Could I DRIVE any further this week? Please?

3. I've become an uber-slob.
I have no energy, I have no time. So.... my bathroom garbage basket overflow-eth. Dirty dishes pile up next to my computer. My laundry, well... it's a crime what's going on with my soiled laundry right now. I'll have to post a picture. Or not.

4. I'm tired. So tired.
But I can't sleep. I'm up till all hours of the night/morning, then take long, unsatisfying naps in the middle of the day. Yes, when I should be working, I'm often napping. Thank God my boss's little dream of web-cams has not yet come to fruition.

4. I'm nauseous. So nauseous. But only when I'm not ravenous. So ravenous.
Yesterday: Couldn't keep anything down. Vomited till I was an empty shell of a person. Today: Couldn't stop eating. Tonight: Paying the price for eating all day.

5. I feel you've grown to hate me.
Well, not really. But there's a lot of stuff we used to do, even as recently as a few weeks ago, that we don't do anymore. I don't take you to the park or for walks anymore, because I'm unable and unwilling to go chasing after you. I don't take you on errands with me, because I don't dilly-dally at the shops or the coffee place or wherever, I just want to run in and run out and get back home so I can lay down.

6. I'm tired of wearing the same clothes.
Especially now that it's getting colder. I don't fit into anything anymore except for the pile of clothes I bought at the beginning of summer in anticipation of getting big. Some comfy pastel shirts and some capris and a butt-load of cute sandals. And yes, because I actually AM bigger this time around (physically bigger, it's not all in my head!), the maternity pants that I wore when I was pregnant with you are uncomfortably snug. I don't WANT to buy any new clothes, especially when I only have 30-some-odd-days left. But I look silly on Reno Tuesdays, like I'm going to a clam-bake, when everyone else is dressed in their cozy autumn business attire.

7. Hemorrhoids.
Enough said.

8. I'm sick of people asking me how I am.
I know people mean well. But I'm tired of lying about how swell I'm feeling, and NO ONE wants to know the the truth of how I'm really feeling. I'm not a small-talk person in the first place, and right now, I don't want to trade meaningless pleasantries. So shut the f*ck up.

9. Painful boobs.
We've talked about this one before. I don't need to elaborate.

10. Being defined by my pregnancy.
That's all I am. All day, every day. Talking about it, writing about it. Every day's aches and pains because of it. Longing for it to be over. Dreading the upcoming surgery and all the relatives. When my thoughts aren't racing, I'm slowly and methodically picking over pregnancy-related minutiae.

11. My medication sucks.
I'm on Aldomet (methyldopa) for my blood pressure. I was on it once a day when I first started taking it. It made me kinda sleepy. Now, a couple months later, I'm taking it four times a day. I'm hella sleepy, all the time. Plus, have you ever tried to do anything on time four times a day? Very difficult. I forget a lot, like today, and will now have to get up at 4 a.m. to take pill #4. And all I have to do is pop a pill. I can't imagine actually having to unroll a mat four times a day, find due east, get down on the floor and pray.

12-13. A lot of little things that add up.
Like screaming in pinched agony when it comes time to reach down and disengage the parking brake. Or spending so much time needing to pee, because I need to hold on until I can leave a sample at the dr's office. Or not having the energy to decorate my porch for Halloween like I usually do. Being short with you when a hug would probably be just as effective. Being hot, all the time. Not moisturizing my feet because I can't reach them. Grunting when I have to tie my shoes.

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I'm trying hard to cherish this "very special time in my life." Especially knowing it's the last time I'll ever be doing something like this. But it's difficult. For every precious memory of a gentle, rib-tickling kick, there's a memory like that one where I didn't flip the toilet up fast enough and vomited all over the lid. For every image of you petting my belly and exclaiming "BABY!!!", there's an image of a blood pressure cuff and a disappointed nurse exclaiming "196 over 92!!!"

Almost there, sweetie. Almost there. Love you.