Today I’m kind of funky and I don’t know why. Do you ever have days like that?
I’m not in a bad mood. In fact, I’m not upset at all, but for some reason, I’m very nervous and jittery and anxious. But, I cannot pinpoint why at all. Really, there is nothing wrong. But I’m shaking and sort of running back and forth…lol.
Today, I have a doctor’s appointment. I’m a little bit nervous about it because I know I’m not looking so good. I know this because people are telling me so and making comments. The other day, this woman was here and she is here a few times a week because her kid plays with my kid but this time she walked in my door and said, “Wow! You look so much better today!”
I looked down at myself and wondered what the fuck she was talking about and I suppose I must have looked confused because she then says, “No… it’s just that you’ve looked so sick lately. I’ve been very worried about you because you’ve been so pale and your eyes are sunk in and dark.”
The minute she leaves, I turn to Dean honestly thinking that if I asked him how I looked, he’d be smart and tell me fabulous. I turn to him and inform him of what the woman has just said to me and then give a “what, is she crazy??” sort of expression. Dean is just sort of looking at me as if he is wondering if he should be honest or lie. He seems to be weighing his options. So, I come right out and ask:
“Dean, I don’t look sickly, do I? I look pregnant and glowing, right?”
He has a sort of pained expression on his face when he responds.
“Well, honey…. you look very, very tired.”
“All the time???” I ask.
“Yeah,” he replies. “You look extremely run down. But I think it is the anemia.”
At this, I haul ass for the bathroom to inspect myself in the mirror and lo and behold… they are right. I look like death. How did I not realize this?? My skin is grayish and I have dark circles under my eyes which are very red and a little swollen. I look like a corpse. I look like Celine Dion. I am horrified.
Okay, so I am a little anemic but I’m taking a shitload of iron supplements to counter that. In fact, I’m taking four times the normal dosage of iron supplements and I thought it was helping.
I’m afraid to go to the doctor because the last time I was there, she took one look at me and doubled my dosage of anxiety pills. Most of me doesn’t want to go today. I begged Dean to cancel my appointment, but he refused. So, I have decided that I’m going to try to take the focus off of me and throw it directly at Emi instead. I am going to ask for an ultrasound to see how large she is because she seems humongous.
I’m seriously wondering how I’m going to make it to the end of this pregnancy because the truth is, I feel like I should look like Celine Dion. I just thought that it wasn’t so obvious to everyone else. And I just know that Dr. V. will say something to me which has me wishing that I could be seen by Dr. B. who would be extremely sweet because he’s awesome like that except that he was deployed to Iraq right after my surgery and hasn’t been around. I like Dr. V. a lot, but I’m afraid of what she’ll say to me. I’m not sure I have the energy today to pretend that I’m perfect…lol.
Oh, well. I’m huge and pregnant and tired and so what if I look like Celine Dion? I wonder if the doc will want to poke around in my vagina today. I guess I should go shave my legs. Just in case.