Like many bloggers, I pre-write and schedule a lot of my posts in advance, because apparently having a rigorous, sometimes-enforced schedule is the only way I can get my ass in gear. It also helps me take advantage of any writing bursts I might have. It’s not very helpful when real life supersedes whatever I’ve blogged about. In this case, real life is the babe. The baby came early. Yeah, I’ve been bitching about being in the third trimester. And yeah, I didn’t have too much time left. But he still came too early.
In a nutshell, the situation went like this: at our last appointment my blood pressure shot off the charts. Baby was a little over 34 weeks along, with movement decreased, we did a stress test to see what was up, yadda yadda yadda, emergency c-section. He’s alive, and he’s an NICU baby, and we are currently driving a hour to see him every day. I had to spend a couple of days in the hospital before I could go–high blood pressure, c-section incision, painkillers, and all that–but luckily A. was able to be with him for those days. No idea what’s going to happen, but that’s what is happening right now.
Wow, that was really hard to write. So with all this stuff going on, I probably won’t be on here for a while.
In any case, I did have one more scheduled post, and I’m going to stick it below. It has nothing to do with current events, of course. I think I wrote it probably a couple weeks before the babe arrived and scheduled it like the others. Reading it now makes me hurt: it’s so blithely optimistic and self-involved and stupid compared to everything I’m feeling and thinking right now that it’s hard not to hurt at it.
What ho, pregnancy! Things are getting weird up in here. I’m sleeping in what seem like two hour bursts punctuated by pee sessions. At first I speculated that this might be a way of my body getting ready to wake up with the baby when he’s here, or maybe this is how bodies train a baby to sleep for two hour stretches. But then, as A. pointed out, I won’t be waking up, sleepwalking to the bathroom, sleep-peeing, and then sleep-returning to bed. No, instead we’ll be doing complex things like diaper changing, or feeding a hungry baby for 45 minutes. Oy.
Anyway, about the other weird stuff–my dreams are going OFF the CHARTS. I have to blame the devil-pred, somewhat. There’s too much history there NOT to see a possible influence. But it’s definitely the combination of prednisone and pregnancy hormones. For example: last night I not only dreamed that I was smoking a cigarette, but then I went to a sushi bar and cleaned them out of sashimi. I ate so much that the Queen of Faery or Dreamland would’ve found it cost-prohibitive to keep me forever, which, I assume, is why I woke up at all. Immediately upon waking I was stricken with guilt: How could you do this to your baaaaybeeee, etc.
Obviously I look forward to ditching the prednisone as soon as possible.