Stretch Marks and Sniffles

My nose has been stuffy today, and I've had a bad headache for the last, oh, 48 hours. I hope I don't have swine flu. Ha.

Actually I'm really not scared of swine flu for myself, I've always had very healthy lungs and a fairly hardy immune system, I'm sure I'd be just fine. But a newborn is a whole different story, and they say (they = mainstream media, I guess) that the swine flu is supposed to reappear with a vengeance this fall. So don't be surprised if I'm passing out travel-size bottles of hand sanitizer when you're around Declan. I'm no germaphobe, but I feel like this is gonna be a "better safe than sorry" situation.

Anyway, I'm getting pretty tired of this whole baby-growing gig. I mean, I love him, and pregnancy is an awesome miracle or whatever, but my skin burns and itches from being so stretched out, I can't sleep because my back and hips hurt so badly, I can't bend over to save my life, and my hormones are raging like nobody's business. Yesterday my dad caught a glimpse of my bare belly, and asked if I had a bunch of mosquito bites... No, Dad, those are stretch marks and places where I've scratched myself raw, despite slathering my abdomen with an assortment of creams and butters.

I go places so infrequently that riding in the car is totally foreign, and makes me slightly nauseous. Considering that I am either sitting still or walking at a snails pace all day, I can see how 50 mph would be a shock to my brain. Not to mention the searing pain in the lady-parts that comes with going over speed bumps (Of which there are entirely too many between my house and my parents... like 10 at least. Ouch.) Just imagine if you were carrying a bowling ball between your hip bones and someone jostled you up and down. Yeah, unpleasant.

Sorry I'm so whiny today. Aaron's been at the gym for like 3 hours, and forgot to take his phone, so on top of all of my pregnancy woes, I'm worried that he either has a gay lover at the YMCA or was in a terrible car crash... Can't decide which I'd prefer.

Only two weeks until Becky's back, and only 2.5 weeks until I'm allowed off of bed rest! And only 6.5 weeks until my due date! And if Declan isn't born by my due date, I'm going to reach in and yank him out, then give him a stern talking to about teasing Mommy and making her think that he was going to come early.