OMG, 7 more days

ok, only 7 more days. i think i'm getting psyched and ready, but i'm sure i still have no idea what i'm (we're) in for.

friday i went to the hospital for the whole morning. and by the way, everyone says the nurses are so nice at St.Mary's where i'm delivering. Well, omg, they are not so nice. i think i had interrupted one of the nurse's breakfast plans b/c while she was "tending" to me, she was on the phone ordering her breakfast. :( and I was all like, hey, so is my blood pressure up? what is it? am I OK? and.... hey, can i get some eggs and bacon too? isn't it impolite not to ask me?

not to mention, they just LOOK mean. i mean, they really look SCARY to me. like, their names should be Birtha, Boris, or Nurse Ratchet, you know? these are the women who are supposed to help me and comfort me? don't they require these women to dye their hair and wear make up? they look like they've been smoking cigarettes all their lives. not to mention they've prolly never had sex! (at least not recently!)

and i just can't get used to that clinical smell in there. ugh.

so anyway, little guy was poking me from the inside out, right where he's supposed to exit. who gave that guy a pencil anyway? holy moly! it was like a sharp bee sting in a place i'm sure bees never travel! i called my Dr that morning and told her about the pain. and then i said, "too boot, i have a terrible headache, but that pales in comparison to this sharp stabbing pain." I guess she was way more concerned about the headache and sent me to the hospital for testing.

my blood pressure had gone up so they were concerned that i had preclampsia. i was all about the sharp pain and trying to get rid of that but they didn't seem to care about that. the headache never seemed to go away. they gave me Tylenol-3 for the headache and sent me home at 1pm. I have taken so many drugs by now that i'm sure little peanut will be ready for rehab by the time he arrives. it's not even funny. well, at least i'm not smokin' crack. :)

and i just have to mention..... so here i am in the hospital bed, hooked up to this an that, offering my clean, virginal veins to some guy who looks like a voodoo priest with his bag of bottles and tricks (adorned with all kinds of crazy stickers) trying to rest thru an awful headache and sharp stabbing pains, when all of the sudden, next to me i hear my husband kind of whispering, "breathe..... breathe....."

i look over towards him and i say, are you speaking to me? and he's all like, no, i'm trying to remain calm myself.

so great. we go to birthing class, learn how to calm an overwhelmed hysterical mother during delivery, and matt's using those techniques on himself to ease his own anxiety. nice.

not to mention i asked him to rub my hands, which he laboriously tried to do with minimal effort, upon which i decided to rub his hands so that he could learn how i like to have my hands rubbed.

during which, i looked at him and said, would you like to lay in this bed too? i mean, i'm happy to get out and sit in the chair instead if you like.

oh my, if the nurses are butt ugly and crabby, and my hubby is going to faint, i had better toughen up for a long ride in the delivery room......