I confess that I was horribly unproductive on Friday. You know how I was going to try not to stress about placenta previa? Yeah, on Friday, I failed miserably. I figure I got maybe four hours of sleep the night before, so I was absolutely exhausted, which never helps. And I simply couldn’t focus.
At first I was waiting for Dr Z to get in so that I could give him the low down on whether or not I’d be cleared to attend the ACCME workshop when I’m 34 weeks along. Or at least that was the excuse I used. And after that? I ran out of excuses. And I still couldn’t focus on the work that desperately needs to be done. I kind of can’t use accreditation as an excuse when we’re simply waiting for a decision. I am, however, still using it as an excuse for why things aren’t happening as quickly as they should.
On a happy side note related to that, I got a call today from one of the applicants who has been waiting very patiently for his approval letter. He knew we’d been swamped with accreditation. I assured him if he didn’t get it from me today, he would have it tomorrow morning at the earliest (and then I moved his app to the top of the pile). He then told me that they really needed to hire more help for me. I told him we were hopeful that would happen this year. Okay, so “happy” probably isn’t exactly the right word, but it made me smile.
But back to Friday. In keeping with it being a stressful day, I was completely out of yogurt, which made packing breakfast and lunch difficult, and meant I really needed to go grocery shopping. I meant to stop and pick some up on my way home from Mastec but wound up taking a different route home that day and didn’t think of it until I was almost in my parking space. On Friday I convinced myself that I only had to go to Harding’s. But by the afternoon, I could barely keep my eyes open, and since we’d be having Banner Memorial Day dinner very close to the Plainwell Meijer’s on Saturday, I decided I could survive another day. When I got home, I curled up on the sofa and slept for two hours.
I distracted myself with Hulu for a few hours before deciding to take my book and go to bed, figuring I’d read until I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore. And while I was brushing my teeth, I lost it. I just started to cry and couldn’t stop. And you have to remember that I blubber, which is really awkward to do when you’re trying to brush your teeth. I called my mom, and once I was able to get out that I was physically okay so that she could stop worrying that something bad had happened, we talked for an hour.
I’ve been mostly okay since then. Trying to keep busy. Trying to distract myself. Trying not to think. I’m sure everything is going to be fine, but my brain keeps trying to write The Worst Case Scenario Survival Handbook: Pregnancy. (Does that one even exist? I know there’s a parenting one…) So I did what any good knitter would do. I knit a pair of booties. I contemplated casting on a second pair but opted to work on a sweater instead.
I read. I unpacked a little bit more of what is currently stored in what will be the baby’s room. I texted with my nieces. That got a little bit simpler once I learned that it wasn’t my mother who was sending me messages that were completely out of context. I listened to what is probably my favorite podcast: Pop Culture Happy Hour.
And I saw my aunts and uncles and cousins for dinner and ice cream on Saturday. And I got together with girlfriends to knit on Sunday. And like everyone else, I bemoaned the rotten weather we had on Monday. (I was planning on sitting out on my balcony while I read and knit and listened to podcasts. The best laid plans…)
And I made a rhubarb upside down cake. I’d say that always makes everything better, but that’s probably exaggerating its powers a little too much. I rarely make more than one each year, and it sure tastes good.
But night is still rough. That’s when it’s just me and my brain. Normally, I’d take a couple (or three) Calms Forte, and that makes me lose my train of thought enough to let me sleep. Not sure if those are contraindicated for pregnancy; whether or not they are, I haven’t taken any. So at night, my brain starts to go off on its own. Haven’t had another cry like Friday evening, but I’ve been on the verge of tears pretty regularly since then. I’ll be fine, really. It’s just been harder than I wish it would be.