There’s a new speeding monitor in our neighborhood and I noticed today, as I creeped by at 5 mph, that it tells you your speed and then says ‘Have a Nice Day.’ I went with it, since it’s the nicest thing anyone has said to me all day. But I wonder though, what does it say if you’re speeding?
Today was a big day–Baby Sweet 2015’s 18-month birthday and my gestational diabetes test. We didn’t end up celebrating the first, I had to pick the poor thing up from daycare around lunchtime because she had a fever. I’m not surprised, after traveling to the west coast and back last weekend, between m two entirely different climates (good west coast climate and bad southern climate) and then having to jump right back into our normal schedule, we were all bound to get sick.
By all, I mean the two of us. John doesn’t get sick. I think 6 years underwater breathing in a hundred guys germs will turn your immune system into whatever the submarines are made out of. Actually, I lied. John did get sick, very sick, during the 5 hour plane ride home from Seattle. Which meant the baby bounced on my third trimester belly while John slept.
Luckily, he recovered quickly after the flight.
I will give John some major props for extra help this week. He went grocery shopping after work on Tuesday, since we didn’t get home from vacation until late afternoon Monday, and then made almost every dinner this week–including ‘chef’s choice surprise’–BBQ chicken and some seriously tasty mashed potatoes. I’m usually not a huge meat eater, especially while pregnant, but this week I was craving protein. Looking through ‘Run Fast. Eat Slow.’ for meal planning, since that’s my current go-to cookbook, nothing really looked that great. Then I found the chicken salad. I’ve never liked chicken salad, and actively have to avoid it in the south. But, whatever the pregnancy reason, I HAD to have this chicken salad. And it was DELICIOUS. (Probably because it had no mayonnaise and that’s why I don’t like chicken salad, I think).
But, anyway, John’s help was needed, because, along with Baby Sweet 2015 getting sick, I’ve also been feeling pretty rough. I went to the gym Tuesday night and after a few miles on the treadmill, my throat started hurting. I woke up Wednesday morning feeling simply, awful, barely made it to work without falling asleep, then tried to nurse a sore throat with my sad lemon water and honey tea, since Dayquil is not usually encouraged while pregnant. I still felt rough most of the day today, with a bad headache and a lingering sore throat. And I would have felt much worse if I’d had to drink the glucose test drink.
I was able to convince my doctor that I needed an alternative to the syrupy, chemical and wood chip (seriously, an incredient) filled stuff they make you drink for the diabetes test. He said 32 jellybeans was my other choice. (How is that even a choice?). I bought some at Whole Foods after picking up the baby and I can 100% say it was a remarkably less bad experience than last pregnancy, where I actually felt sick for days after the test.
I only felt sick for a few minutes this time, on top of already being sick, so after we got home, the baby and John went down for a nap and I finished some work, I decided to enjoy a few miles around the neighborhood in much cooler weather. Of course, that wasn’t my best plan, and I felt like the 3 miles were run underwater in a metal scuba diving suit. My legs and feet felt heavy, I had zero energy, and my breathing was all off. But, my headache went away.
I really think all this is a result of such a quick trip to the West Coast–which I can’t wait to write a blog post about (but I’m going to wait until I’m not sick, I have trouble collecting thoughts when I’m not feeling well, as seen in this post). It’s a lot to travel 3,000 miles with a toddler and #traveljohn (who likes to book as many flights as possible, get to the airport extremely early and run to the gate), but, doing it while pregnant was ridiculous and exhausting and still, totally worth it to see family and escape Charleston. But still, exhausting.
Tomorrow I’ll be working from home, then this weekend, John is going to Charlotte for a wedding. The wedding said no kids, so, since we don’t have a babysitter, I get to stay behind. Which is good, because I actually don’t this couple at all, and I’m sure they would be suspicious if I showed up at their wedding solo while John stayed home with the baby.
Then, two short months until the next baby comes. Give or take a week or so. And orders. And a move. And, somewhere in there I’ll check myself into a mental institution for exhaustion so I can sleep for a few days. That sounds like the best plan, right?