At Odds

I’ve been doing what I can to make myself comfortable lately and help me make it to the end of this pregnancy safely and complication free. And as far down the road as possible.

Unfortunately, that’s meant no caffeine. Which means I now have migraines. Which means I walk around in sunglasses because I can’t take any good drugs for them. And REALLY isn’t adding to my comfort level.

Caffeine was causing me to have contractions starting 2 months ago. I don’t mean the pain-free Braxton-Hicks variety where you feel the tightening but can go on with your day. I mean the painful ones that make you unable to speak and glad for you Lamaze class years ago. The kind that go on for hours and become closer and closer together. The kind where you might have 10+ in an hour when your doctor worries about as few as 4.

That kind.

I’ve also limited my activity a bit. No more long treks with the dogs or carrying heavy objects around. That had pretty much the same result as my latte habit. And it’s irritating because I have things to do. I’m not on bed rest or anything. I’m just doing less.

And it bugs me.

Partly because I’m nesting. I need to get the baby stuff out of storage, sorted, cleaned, and anything that’s become ruined by 3+ years in storage with heavy junk piled on it replaced. I know some of that immediacy is my hormones. I know some of it is a legitimate concern because…well…It’s not like I’ve never had issues with pre-term labor before so wanting to know our stuff is ready makes sense. Especially those immediate types of items like a car seat.

Partly it’s because Hubby doesn’t feel my immediacy and is having his own versions of nesting—damn couvade syndrome. Rather than help me get things ready that might actually need to get done. Rather than helping me do the normal chores that have to get accomplished. He tore out our living room ceiling.

Yup. Because we *needed* to put in ceiling lighting and a fan (for the baby) and then fix the ductwork (for the baby). Not get a carseat cleaned and ready.