Seriously, this isn’t funny anymore. This last week has added a lovely new pregnancy side-effect … SEVERE ITCHINESS. My stretch marks have all but broken open, and after getting too much sun on Saturday (sorry Mom) because somehow the concept of sunscreen was deleted from my pregtarded brain I’m hurting and soon I WILL DIE.
Why were my sunglasses in the bathroom? We may never know.
So, back to the itchies. I have tried every home remedy known to man. Wanna see?
Tonight I struck a new low and went to CVS wearing one of John’s threadbare t-shirts from high school. It is the only thing I can stand wearing over all the ointment. My mission? Oatmeal bath. You know, the kind your mom made you take when you had chicken pox and you wouldn’t stop whining for her to take the oven mitts off your hands (oh, was that just me?)? I brought it home and immediately ran myself a COLD bath that smelled like breakfast. Now for the interesting part: Have you ever tried to get a watermelon underwater? Submerging my huge belly ended up with my head hanging over the edge of the tub in perfect Juicy-licking range. Combine that with a bathroom door that doesn’t really close and … yeah, dog-spit facial. People, you just can’t make stuff like this up.
The bath was nice while I was in it, but I’m back to itchy again in John’s old shirt with the window unit air conditioner blasting. Meh. You know how when one part of you itches you get phantom itches all over your body? Like, your belly itches and then suddenly you think your scalp is itchy? And then the insides of your ears start itching? And then the tops of your feet? I feel like I sat on an ant farm.
In good news, I’m pooping like a champ (hey, you should know exactly what to expect from this blog by now) thanks to Metamucil and my current obsession with Cheerios with freeze-dried berries. That means the hemorrhoids are flaring DOWN. My mom sends me an email every day with a name guess … in alphabetical order. Betsy? Seriously, Mom? Hee hee. People LOVE to tell me all about how their babies came 2 weeks late. This, I find, is worse torture than all the birth stories I hear. This morning while I was experimenting with different ointment/lotion combos I actually started convincing myself that an induction/cesarean might not be all that bad … NO! STOP IT! I CAN DO THIS! Right?
So, two things would make my week: #1, when we go to the doctor on Wednesday I will have SOME sign of labor; #2, I pass my written driver’s test tomorrow morning with flying colors (actually even if it’s just by the seat of my pants, I don’t really care).