I only write when I have something exciting to report

I suck at blogging y’all. It’s been over a month and when most of the bloggers in my Reader go over a month without blogging I usually say, “BU-BYE!” with the click of a mouse because I’m impatient that way. But if you’re still around, here’s the news.

-I had mastitis. Yes, that’s the boob infection that breastfeeding mamas get. (Um, and it SUCKS). Apparently my lefty was SO ANXIOUS to be part of the milkin’ mamas club that she up and contracted their illness. It’s like joining a cult, except instead of drinking Kool-Aid you turn red and hot and hurt like Hades. And I was all, “Lefty, why couldn’t you just squirt milk out down my shirt like the other boobs that want to join the milkin’ mama club?” So she has started doing that too. Righty is chilling for now, trying not to get too anxious or act like a poser. She knows her time will come and doesn’t need to be jumping the gun. I’m sure the peer pressure will get to her eventually.

-I’ve given up swearing for Lent. And hopefully for good. Which is totally why I said SUCK and HADES in the prior paragraph instead of…other things. I have been putting $1 in a jar for every time I slip, and so far I owe God $19…sounds like a lot, but considering I would often swear 19 times in one day, I think I’m doing pretty well. I had originally said I wanted to stop swearing before I turn 30 (in August) but with little Cleitus coming I decided to push up my deadline by a few months. I’m not Catholic, but I figured they’re pretty good at the guilt thing so Lent would be a convenient time to enact the change.

-Cleitus is getting big! And active! And uncooperative!

Last week I went to the perinatologist for a growth scan. We had hoped it would be our last foray into high-risk land, but alas, it was not to be. As far as growth he’s right on track but the doctor noticed something called an umbilical varix, which is sort of like a varicose vein in his cord. It makes the blood flow turbulent and can lead to a blood clot in the cord which is bad for obvious reasons or hydrops: a condition where fluid accumulates in his organs (also very very bad). Evidently, none of these things happen very fast, so I am being monitored every Wednesday to see if something bad is developing. If so, they’re going to deliver. Like, right then. As in, ON ANY GIVEN WEDNESDAY I COULD BE RUSHED INTO AN EMERGENCY C-SECTION.

Holy shit, y’all.

(That’s $20, and oh so worth it).

I’m 29.5 weeks right now, so if Cleitus does need to meet the outside world he should be ‘okay’. But me? I am definitely not okay. For one, I definitely don’t want my sweet little boy to have to spend the first weeks of his life in an isolette at the hospital. Also? OMGIAMSONOTREADYTOHAVEANOUTSIDEBABY!!! I’m supposed to have another ten weeks, at least. I need to nest, to get uncomfortable and start doing crazy things like eating spicy foods, scrubbing baseboards, and having sex with my husband (because that? Is crazy) to jump start labor.

And now it seems like none of those things will happen because even if I don’t get whisked away for an emergency c-section, the chances are good that they are going to want the baby out by 36 or 37 weeks.

I don’t care what your math teachers told you, six and seven are WAY less than ten.

Eeek!