I"m not ashamed to admit it.
I have had moments during this pregnancy of which I am not proud. Mustard fever comes to mind. There haven't been too many of what I call the "alarmist" moments, but there's been enough that I hesitate to call the OB clinic without someone else in the family being alarmed too. We were all fairly unsettled by the condition of my feet Monday night,.since they were huge, tingly, and... blue.
So I called our clinic after-hours nurse and asked her if it was normal, and she told me to come in Tuesday morning. I asked Ivan to drive me just in case, so Tuesday morning he accompanied me (wearing my pink fluffy slippers because they were the only things that fit) and my awesome clinic squeezed us in.
Dr. Grillo took one look at my ankles and very nicely did not roll his eyes. He did tell me that on a scale of 1-to-10 for swollenness, I'm sitting at about... a 2.
And then he told me that the way to cure it was to deliver a baby, so go have contractions.
Yes, I feel foolish.
I also feel like I used all my nesting energy this weekend and I no longer have enough to do more than cook dinner and minor chores. And when I say minor, I mean it. I look at the vacuum cleaner with loathing.
I'm having small preparatory contractions and I have a feeling I might be dilated more. I did not opt for the pelvic exam on Tuesday because, well... it was Dr. Grillo. I like him a lot, but he has huge hands. I'll wait for Thursday (tomorrow) and see cute, petite little Dr. Smith. Her hands are smaller than mine.
I'll keep this short and update on Thursday.
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