It's been a rough day or two. I thought for sure we were having the baby last night. The contractions were 2 minutes apart and lasted for hours even after I laid down and took my meds. So, I hysterically made James pack my hospital bag. For the record, NEVER let a man pack your bag. James wanted to pack everything in the world's largest duffle bag. I know that I'll likely be there for 4 days, but I don't believe that I'm packing enough to warrant such enormous luggage. After a brief battle over which bag was most appropriate, I caved and let him pack the duffle.
James then chose to argue with me over what jammies I'd be packin'. He thinks I look hot in my grey BYU football t-shirt and insisted that I pack it. Girls, we all know that what we're looking for in the hospital is comfort, NOT hotness. I am desperately trying to communicate these ideas to my adorable husband while I breathe rather rapidly through the contractions. What a time to pick a fight with me! How dare he have such opinions at a time like this! The whole ordeal was exhausting, James packed what he wanted anyway, and eventually I passed out. What a night!
This morning I made my way to the WIC office for an appointment to weigh in. At 36 weeks, this is never something to look forward to. I thought that I had prepared myself mentally for the pain of watching that little weight move further and further to the right. But, nothing could have prepared me for the horror that was to come. The woman working the scale moved the weights to their proper location and then had the nerve to say (quite seriously), "Is someone else on the scale with you?" ARE YOU FRIGGIN' KIDDING ME? What person on Earth is stupid enough to say such a thing? And to say it to a woman who is so clearly uncomfortable and a bit unbalanced in the hormone department!
I should have had a witty remark to shoot back at her, but instead I just cried. These are the very people who lectured me on the dangers of weight loss during pregnancy, back when I was 15 lbs under my start weight and vomiting every 5 minutes. How dare they have the nerve to comment now about my size!
I packed my kids in the van and drove through my tears to sonic to where I quenched my pain with 2 large cups of their totally awesome ice. For some reason, eating ice makes me feel better. So does eating Oreos, but that would've done more harm than good at this point.
10 comments:
You should have told that lady off. Maybe then she'd realize she can't make stupid comments like that to pregnant women.
I also think that next time you just shouldn't look at the number on the scale. I seriously had to stop looking when I was pregnant with Will.
Oh, and it's definitely okay to cry at this point. Nearly everything made me cry.
Oh my heck!! She seriously said that to you?! What is up with people thinking it is ok to make down right rude comments to pregnant women? Especially, people who are on the clock! She should so be fired, seriously! Emily, i'm sorry =O( You have every right in the world to cry......I would have been bawling as well. And for the record, I think that you look amazing! And i'm not just saying that to make you feel better either, I honestly mean it!
I hope that you have a better night tonight than you did last night. Eran always picks the worst time to pick a fight as well. Like men know what we need in the hospital, right? They in all reality have NO clue!
I love ya girl, and i'm so sorry!! =O(
You should have told her she was rude. Not in a rude way, but you know what I mean.
Obviously she has a mental disorder, and it is important that she learns what is rude. If noone ever tells her, she might never get it.
I think I had an appt. with the same lady. But my appt was after the baby was born. I just had my hands full and this woman just was not nice. Actually, there are 2 WIC workers that I've dealt with and I don't think either of them have had kids. They weren't rude to me, but they certainly were not kind and understanding. :P
SOOO....I just wanted to clarify a few things.
1. It was a disagreement, not a fight
2. She's perpetually cold in the hospital, (and from what I hear it's not uncommon) and I put in some long sleeve shirts that she wears and some extra jammy pants (her extra comfortable ones that she got when she returned my valentines gift to her)
3. She didn't mention at all how she refused to let me pack a bag for the boys (granted I was using a suitcase) full of their stuff so the people (still undetermined as of yet) who will watch them when the moment arises will have stuff for them. Does anyone think that's a good idea...or is it just me?
I'm guessing the lady was trying to make a joke because you quite literally had a 2nd little person on the scale with you. As a very much non-pregnant woman, I think that's actually a pretty good joke. But if I was 9 months pregnant and beginning to feel like a planet, I would probably take it pretty badly and cry too. Maybe someone should tell her that she should reserve that particular joke for parties with non-pregnant-people-only in attendance.
And nice try, James, but I'm pretty sure there's no such thing as winning an argument with a pregnant lady. Props to your determination at trying though lol.
It is my determination that all WIC employees are idiots. I have had endless encounters with them where I wanted to poke their brains out...assuming they had them to start with.
Let me know if she bothers you again and I will sit on her with my ginormous booty.
Way to try James! And I mean that seriously. I know that I've made Jeff's head very nearly explode several times when I just want him to follow directions and he just couldn't see my reasoning. Here's some advice - unsolicited, I know - NEVER EVER EVER pick a bag that is too big, or small for that matter (I've actually had this SAME EXACT "disagreement" with Jeff several times if you can believe it.) And, NEVER EVER go against a woman in labor. Imagine if you had just been kicked in your nether-regions, and how you WISH that everybody around you would just do exactly what you say so that you don't hurt more. That's what being in labor is like, the constant fear that somebody is going to make you hurt WORSE. And even talking qualifies.
Now if only I can get my own husband to understand this, MAYBE my fourth pregnancy / delivery (whenever that happens) will actually go as I want it to!
luvs, aby
PS - Emily, you look great. Period.
I'm so sorry!!! I'm laughing and crying as I read this out loud to Justin, and am feeling a little unbalanced myself. ;-) Noticing this was posted July 1, any news yet on that new little one? I mean, news of needing that huge duffle bag? We're thinking of you!
The nerve of that woman! That's unbelievable!!!
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