Weekend.

So, what I didn't mention in my last post is that I'm sick... again. 

It's true that your immune system pretty much shits the bed when you get pregnant- and for good reason.  If it didn't lower its resistance, then it would treat your little bean as a foreign body and try to get rid of it.  The unforunate part being that I am a sickie by nature and therefore if someone sneezes within 30349 feet of me, I'm sick. 

I've had this respiratory thing THREE times since June.  In June, it got so bad that they thought I had whooping cough (seriously, don't laugh.. it was awful) and it took me almost 6 weeks to get better.  I got it again in November at about 11 weeks pregnant and have it again now.  The really great part about being sick and pregnant?  The meds... saline spray, tylenol and cough drops.  I've literally had dreams about Nyquil for weeks on end...

My usual MO is to wait about 10 days after I get sick and then head in to see the doctor.  I feel like if you haven't been sick for long enough, they tend to make you wait it out with the old "it's a virus" thing and being in a waiting room with other sick people means that by the time I go back a week or two later, I'm REALLY sick.  Not this time, though.  I woke up on Monday feeling a little congested in my chest and by Thursday, I knew it meant business.  Not to mention that we've got our big vacay coming up on Wednesday and come hell or high water, I'm going to be in Key West.  So Friday morning, I e-mailed my boss, told her I was sick (I swear she must think that I'm a closet pregnancy pack-a-day smoker) and magically got an appointment that morning with my GP (it is amazing what perks there are being pregnant.. ha ha).  Sure enough, I'm wheezing and there isn't a whole hell of a lot to do about it.  Well, we can do something about it, but all the drugs are class C, meaning that not enough pregnant with a cough wanted to try out steroids in a clinical trial on their kid while they were pregnant so the safety of the drug for the baby is in question. (Strangely enough, penicillin is perfectly safe during pregnancy and they know this because they had to do studies on pregnant women during syphillis outbreaks... uhh, thanks for the trivia, doc..)  It's probably wise to note here that I was an ashmatic as a child and so yes, anytime anything gets into my chest it normally requires antibiotics, nebulizer treatments around the clock and a lovely 14 day course of prednisone in order to get my inflamation under control.  Anyway, the good old GP decides that since I'm far enough along, we should probably go ahead with the usual course of action and I, of course, freak out. 

I get in touch with my super perinatalogist (who I haven't even met yet) on his take on the meds.  He basically says that little Bertha is already formed and I'm not doing her much good if I can't breathe, now am I?  He even chuckles about the prednisone (which the GP has reduced to a 5 day course) and says that "hey, you're close to viability anyway, so if something happened and you went into labor, she'd have an even better shot because her lungs are getting matured as we speak..." Umm.  Thanks?!

Needless to say, I was told to spend the weekend in bed.  And I pretty much did.  Which left me a lot of time to think.  Which is not good.  Not to mention that prednisone makes me pretty much act like a crack head.  Trying to stay in bed or on the couch while thinking about the million things I should be doing or the fact that I may or may not be bringing home a baby from the hosptial makes me a little bit.. oh, cranky. Weepy.  PSYCHO.  Seriously, the last time I was on prednisone, I remember being awake at 3AM making an apple crisp and cleaning the little crevices in my kitchen cabinets with a TOOTHBRUSH.

This possibly having a catastrophically ill kid thing is not going so well for me.  Like most people, I do well when I'm busy- it's the late nights and quiet times (the shower always gets me) where I start to imagine the worst and start to fall apart.  I was happy to get back to work today.

Except that by missing Friday, I missed the fact that someone high up got promoted to even higher up and there was a massive re-org in my branch that basically has completely and totally bummed me the heck out.  While my boss is still my boss (Can we get a THANK GOD?), she will be filling in for the guy who got promoted until they can post his old position and get someone new in.  I work for the Federal Government, so basically, I don't plan on seeing her until I get back from maternity leave in September.  One of her minions is stepping up into her place for the time being, so he will essentially be my boss.  Nice guy, but I get the feeling that he doesn't like me.  I can't place it and it may just be the way he is, but I am not looking forward to working the next 3 months without my awesome boss around.  AND, the higher up who got promoted is taking his right-hand woman, who I've been very close to and has basically been mentoring me in all ways to move up in the government world.  So, to say I'm bummed is pretty much putting it lightly.

I don't know how many times in my life I've uttered the phrase, "I really need a vacation..." but I'm sure it's more than I'm entitled to.  I've never actually meant it more than I do right now.

And there are a lot of things in life to bitch about obviously- and I have two major worries clearly- my sweet girl and what's going to happen long-term with my job, but damn- can't someone make a maternity bathing suit that doesn't make me look like I'm going to water aerobics with Grandma?! :)