Ready to throw things
At this point I have a whole list of stupid shit I’ve tried in order to get labor started. I guess that will have to go in the baby book. None of it works.
I called my OB’s office this morning to try and move my appointment up (they had me scheduled for Friday, which was just over two weeks from my previous appointment since she was out of town last week). They rescheduled it for me. FOR THURSDAY.
I, woman of no backbone, just said ok and then spent the following half hour sobbing like I haven’t done since my miserable days at the insurance agency.
You would think that they would give a little bit of scheduling priority for someone who has what is technically considered a high risk pregnancy (due to the GDM), but apparently not.
I should have called back after the crying spell and insisted on some help, but instead I got in bed and stared at the wall until I fell asleep for another four hours.
I have to figure out what to say when I call back again tomorrow morning, but why bother? I’ll just end up accepting no for an answer without protest like always. I can make a good Julia Sugarbaker speech in my head, but when it comes to reality, I just let people run all over me.
Obviously this is getting me down. I’m also more easily angered every day. I don’t even like the “How are you feeling?” texts I get. I just want to answer “Like shit. How else would I feel?” But that’s not nice.
I even had a couple of moments today where I was ready to bite a good friend’s head off – but trust me when I say she earned it.
So I’m crankier and crankier, and it’s not going to get any better. I know everyone is just so over it late in pregnancy, but very little of this is about the physical discomfort for me (though it’s no picnic). I’m mostly stressed out because I’m so worried about this baby getting too big.