What's that? Oh, just my ovaries ticking. Never you mind those. It'll go away on it's own, right?
A week ago, we went up to Seattle for Mr. Bee's Company Holiday
Party Dinner (surely if there is only cocktails and dinner, one can not call that a party, right?). Somehow everyone and their mom (okay, maybe not literally their moms...) has come down with a really horrible, debilitating condition.
And for pretty much everyone I know, it's Numeros Dos de los ninos. (That's Number Two for you dumbies out there.) So, of course, practically every person I spoke to asked us, "When are you guys going to have another?!".
To which I answered, "When I stop loving to drink!" and then downed a mouthful of rum from my ginormous cocktail.
But to be honest, I have been thinking more about the when, where and how...
How: Hmmm...well, I'm guessing Mr. Bee will be involved somehow, but no funny business, I promise.
Where: I'll go out on a limb here and just say that it will probably occur within the city limits. Which city, I ain't saying.
When: Damn, what is this? The Spanish Inquisition? (Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!!)
My husband is still working 2+ hours away from home, 4 days a week (but has been home for the last few weeks which I think has affected my stance on the issue). But
my ovaries have started calling I'm starting think I might be ready for another. Or more accurately, that in 9+ months I could possibly be ready for another.
Which has got me thinking and remembering my last pregnancy.
I had forgotten how scary pregnancy is. Sure, all that vomiting and peeing every five minutes is a thrill ride of fun. But beneath all the excitement, I remember this kind of overwhelming fear and worry.
Will my baby be okay? Will she be healthy? Will we be okay if she's not? Do I get tested to see if she will have an 11th toe or do I just wait to find out later?
I will worry about eating right. About gaining enough, but not too much weight. About taking my prenatal vitamins and seeing the doctor regularly.
And then you get tackled by something completely out of left field.
When I was around 7 months or so pregnant with Bee, I woke around 3 a.m. for my hourly hardly-wake-up-to-pee-in-the-dark-session. It was just a regular night until (sorry for the TMI) I finished up peeing and found that I was bleeding.
I have never been so scared in my entire life.
I immediately yelled at Mr. Bee from the bathroom for him to wake up and told him what was going on. I laid down in bed while he tried to contact the on-call doctor on the phone. After leaving a message with the message service and waiting 15 minutes, my general opinion was "fuck them" and we called 911. Pretty embarrassing to have an ambulance full of aid people in my bedroom at 3 o'clock in the morning, but at least none of them were super hot. Now *that* would have been a cause for alarm!
Long story, well, long (sorry), we ended up going to the local hospital to be monitored and everything appeared to be okay. It never happened again and they never had an explanation for me.
But despite all of that, I'll (mostly) voluntarily do it all again.
At least I have another month before it even becomes an option to get knocked up 'cause girlfriend ain't gonna be all nauseous and tired without a hubbie around to help in the evenings. So not an option.
But, in the meantime, pass the wine!
Song title: Tick, Tick, Tick by My Dream Is Yours