When your wife gives you lemons

Yesterday the doctor gave us some encouraging news, there have been no changes since I was released from the hospital. He said I am responding well to the medicine and hopefully we'll remain like this for quite some time. I see him again on January 4th.

Then he told me I look like hell. What do you expect from a girl on bed rest with a cough,snotty nose and pink eye in BOTH eyes? He asked if I was taking plenty of cold medicine and Jeremy blabbed that I will only take half a dose. To which Dr. K replied:

"Do you want to cough out your baby?"

I explained that I was nervous to put all that stuff in my system and he reminded me that I am in my third trimester - my baby has ONE head and TEN toes and the only thing we're waiting on is for him to get bigger. So I've succumbed to being totally dosed up on cold medicine to avoid coughing out my precious little boy.

I'm sure most of you know this, but being pregnant and modesty do not coincide. The mere thought that I consent to having my cervix palpated every week despite the fact that I haven't shaved my legs since I HAVE NO CLUE WHEN. But Jeremy said that doctors see MUCH worse than amazon legs and he assures me I won't be judged. In my defense, I can't even see the tops of my thighs, let alone reach my ankles. And while our hospital stay was filled with lots of tears, we did laugh a little, mostly at my expense. We laughed about how my pee was being collected in a little hat and was on display for everyone to critique. We laughed about how the hospital gown was so big I could have fit two more people in there with me. Oh and I about laughed my baby out when Jeremy had to give me a shower! I sat on a stool in this really small shower with one of my hands covered in rubber gloves to protect my IV, so he figured it would be easier/safer if he just got in to wash me.

And if you're thinking that this is where the kinky part of the story begins, you are reading the wrong person's blog. Instead, the water temperature was totally messed up and would intermittently come out scalding hot and burn us while I screamed, "Hot! No, too hot, don't squirt me there!" Jeremy apparently has seen entirely too many Herbal Essence commercials and insisted on piling all of my hair on top of my head and scrubbing it wildly into a matted knot. But the worse part was when I had to pee, SITTING DOWN ON A GERIATRIC SHOWER CHAIR and he started dancing around yelling, "Not on my feet! Not on my feet!" We were laughing so hard we almost fell into the nurses call bar, which we were specifically instructed NOT TO TOUCH as it would send no less than five people rushing into the bathroom to crash our family scrub session.

Apparently my mom and our nurse were outside the door laughing at the sounds coming from our charade. And although it was a far cry from the steamy, romantic shower scenes in the movies - it was our way of coping, and smiling, and being together for better or for worse. Pee feet included.