There goes 2 hours of my life...

Well, today was my first "official" OB appointment. Even though I knew it was going to happen, I was still frustrated to find that I had to wait an hour before getting a room, and then 20 minutes before seeing the nurse, and then 10 more minutes before seeing the Dr. Oh well. The funny part was about 5 minutes into the nurses' questions, I mentioned that this was my third child. "Oh, well then, let's cut the crap and get on with it" she says. Hilarious.

So, everything seems to be ok. It's always hard to say this early. I have to go for a billion blood tests this week (low blood pressure and a history of borderline gestational diabetes). I get to make my appointment for my U/S at the end of November. I declined genetic testing... cause really, it wouldn't change anything for us either way.

Ian wasn't pleased to be there with me. I try and understand this (and for the record, I only ask him to come with me for the first appointment and near the end of the line)... we argued today about it "WHY am I here?" he asked, for the tenth time. "Because it's your godamn baby too!" I finally said (loudly). I know. It's not like I need him to hold my hand anymore. I guess I just think, you know, I have to do all of the damn work here - morning sickness, fatigue, muscle/joint pain, headaches... you know, creating a life form and all that jazz. Then, I get to go through labour and delivery. I get the stitches afterwards, I get the sore nipples, I get the saggy boobs and jello-tummy... and you're telling me, you don't understand why I would want you to sacrifice 2 hours of your day to sit next to me so I have someone to talk to??????

I'm sure when he reads this, he'll think twice about complaining the next time. Ha.

Emotionally, I'm freaking out these days. I'm terrified that I'll never have a clean house again. I'm terrified that my patience for infants has expired. I'm tired of my job and being away from my kids all day. I don't know.

All of this would be so much easier if I could kick back and have a smoke and a beer to relax. Alas! No can do. With Lili, I waited a whole 2 weeks before getting out to have a few drinks (yes, I pumped, btw). This time around, I figure I'm taking a bottle with me into the delivery room. Yes, I'm kidding mom.

I do anticipate that I will request an early discharge again. After Lili was born, I was home 6 hours later. I can't stand lying in bed doing nothing at the hospital. Especially since I'd had a full night sleep (went into labour at 6am, had her at 1pm, left the hospital at 6pm). And, Ian had to leave almost immediately after she was born, as he had a final at the U. With Cohen, I was happy to stay there and sleep - after an entire night of labour - but with Lili, I just wanted to go home.

Whew that was interesting. The fire alarm here at work went off... so we all reluctantly left the office... on our way out, a mom with 2 kids and an infant in a stroller asked me "can I take the elevator?" "no", I said, "sorry". She looked so mad - I can imagine, trying to carry all three kids down the stairs.

Turns out - there was a fire in the elevator shaft.

All right, my excitement for the day is done.