Last night my head cold reached epic proportions, and I realized I had to break out the asthma medication and the prescription to drain my nose, or I would never sleep again.
My heart was pounding, and my head hurt, and I was really exhausted because Friday night I had such a realistic full colour nightmare that I barely slept afterwards and got up Saturday morning pretty wiped. I spent the rest of the day in a fog and finally went to Costco and spent my little heart out.
Very difficult to do when the Costco you go to is filled with stupid people. I usually go to a Costco on the other side of town during the week, mostly adults or moms and babies young enough to stay in the baby seat of the cart. But this one is closer so I thought what the hell give it chance, right? Bah....
Instead I end up with idiots who bring their overtired underfed toddlers to the store and let them run around. Kids who are crying and screaming and won't stay in the cart. Not a smart safety move in a warehouse store with 200 pound boxes on high shelves just waiting to drop on the kid's head. (One time, I actually saw a kid get run over with a giant dolly covered in boxes and the kid got stuck underneath. A bunch of us ran like hell and started chucking the stuff off the cart, and pulled the kid to safety, just in time for the mother to run up and take the kid from grandpa. He was *watching* the kid for her----I'm sure in his mind, he'd been doing a great job. Mom looked like she was going to kill him.)
My kids are old enough to help me shop, and when Mac is too tired and can't pay attention, I leave, with no stuff bought, just leave. WTF is wrong with these people? Leave elderly grandma with her cane and the toddler and one of the six other family members at home. They really aren't having fun people. Dragging through Costco isn't a joy-filled trip when you can barely walk. Seriously.
So after all that exasperation, I was pretty tired and went to bed feeling sick. I got up this morning feeling not much better, and realized that I couldn't feel the baby move. I drank some juice, and got some breakfast, all the while terrified. Kids are running around, husband madly acting nuts, since he is hosting some guys for a Superbowl party and has bought enough food for an army. I kept thinking it would be fine, just fine, stop worrying so I didn't tell him.
After 2 hours of not feeling much of anything, and drinking a gallon of juice, I was beyond panic and terror and had moved to resignation that of course everything had gone wrong and the baby had died, and I was picturing in my head what I would say to the nurse at triage, the birth, the funeral....had the whole thing planned out in my head. I had catatrophized myself into a corner.
Then he kicked me.
Then a few minutes later a punch.
Crying with relief, I got a shower and got dressed. I'm tidying up for the party now, and Dinkypie is partying away in my uterus.
My name is Aurelia, and I'm paranoid. I'm 21 weeks, 6 days, and this was the gestational point that Matthew died so let's just call this hump week. I need to find a little faith cause I don't know how the hell I'm going to make it through 'til June. And there are no 12 step meetings for deadbabymamas like me.
Any words of wisdom?