vasovagal

Caroline is home from school today because for whatever reason we tend to lean to the responsible side of parenting when it comes to sending her to school sick. She was up at 2 and then practically the rest of the night with a few blips of rest tossed in just to toy with us. I took her downstairs at 4 to watch a movie to let Steve sleep and to catch a snooze myself while Ariel rescued Eric, but it was hard to to with half my preggo butt hanging off the couch in the only comfortable position for my non-stop coughing drippy nosed toddler. We went back upstairs around 6:15 and the tv went on in an attempt to steal an hour of sleep. She ended up passing out at some point, but never got deep enough to stay down past 7:30. So it's been her and me today at home and her energy and my complete lack thereof have pushed my buttons more times than I care to share. Seems that the sass comes out when the sleep is evasive and well, I don't like the sass.

Steve met Caroline and I at the doctor for the ultrasound and NST. Steve offered to switch places with me at home, but he missed the last couple ultrasounds they did in the hospital. I knew that this was probably the last glimpse we'd have of Baby Mac before his arrival and I wanted him there if he could be. I got Caroline dressed and excited about seeing her baby brother on the tv at the doctor, but I've hardly had a moment to eat, drink, take my bp, or do anything today that does not involve wiping a nose, a butt, or consoling a toddler after the upteenth meltdown of the hour for ridiculous things like the light being on, the light being off, her cup being out of reach, her not being able to find the baby doll's bottle, or any number of utterly ridiculous things that all told me she was exhausted and refusing to sleep.

No sooner than I lay down on the table for the ultrasound did I start to feel lightheaded. I asked to be propped up a bit more, but I looked at Steve and he knew I wasn't ok. So onto my left side I went and the voices returned to their proper places and not miles away. I was embarassed and also desperate to catch sight of my little man, so when I felt better I went back to my back. That didn't last too long though and before long I was back on my side and Steve was suddenly on his knees as white as a sheet.

A perfect storm of crap, that's what this is. He hadn't eaten lunch, he had been up all night with us, he was watching his wife go vasovacal twice, so yeah... poor Steve. Caroline looked back and forth from mom to dad asking us each if we were ok, trying to hug a profusely sweating Daddy, telling mommy to sit down. Poor Steve. What a lovely month we've had and I can't even talk yet about the email my supervisor sent just before Christmas alerting the staff that I was starting my maternity leave early and would return "late February or March" which a. we never discussed and b. HAHAHAHAHA. Oh that's a good one.

The OB made an appointment for Steve just in case at his primary and we went down the hall for the non-stress test, which went fine especially considering how stressful the appointment had been. Steve got his color back slowly and his hands returned to their nuclear temperature. We did leave with two photos of Macadamia, but I am so sad that I didn't get to enjoy seeing him moving around in there, waving, being an adorable fetus.

While we were at Steve's appointment, the defiant exhausted toddler refused to listen pushing my patience to new lengths and added in an insulting poop at just the right moment refusing all offers to take her to the bathroom. I had planned on getting her a milkshake from Mickey D's on the way home because again, milk=bad for cough, but she needs the calories. I had to bribe her with paint this morning to get her to eat 4 bites of oatmeal. So I took away our trip for milkshakes and even convinced myself that the 7 diapers in the house will last through tomorrow somehow because there was no way I could take another single moment with her in public. Her final defiant "No!" when I told her to go upstairs for a diaper change when we arrived home sent me into a tailspin that I am obviously not proud of, but the end result is that she is FINALLY sleeping, something she outright refused all morning long. I'd nap, but I'm afraid of a repeat 3+ hour nap today that kept her awake until almost 10:30 last night. 10:30!

So she's sleeping, I'm done seething, and we cannot wait for this month to be over, which is so tragic considering the excitement awaiting us at the end of the month. There is just an ominous "what else can go wrong, because it will" feeling in the house. I'm sure a full night's sleep will do us all a world of good - hoping that comes sooner than later.


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