Preparing to go to the doctor is a bit of a circus around here. You see, I’ve given up on shaving my legs unless I am going to the doctor. James doesn’t mind the hair, in fact I swear I’ve caught him petting my legs at night. I don’t mind the hair once it gets to the soft stage and doesn’t feel like it’s constantly catching on my pajama bottoms. So why do I go through the pain (yes, there is actual physical pain now) of shaving my legs before I go to the doctor? Because I am nuts, duh.
Even when I am not pregnant I rarely shave my thighs. The hair on my legs is light blonde for the most part. Only when you get down near my ankles does it come in darker. My eyebrows are still pretty light and often vanish into my face. In 7th grade this girl named Gretchen asked me if I shaved off my eyebrows. It was only when I tilted my head in pure WTF?! mode did she see them reappear. I sat near her in English class and the boys would hang on her every word. I think it had something to do with her acid washed mini-skirts and ability to talk about shaving her legs that kept them hooked.
I started shaving my legs in 7th grade.
Yesterday I shaved my legs for the first time this month which of course means I went to the doctor yesterday. Nice segue, huh?
My mom tagged along as James had some sort of class (that was canceled at the last minute) for work and a dentist appointment that he neglected to write down. When I figured out that he couldn’t come with me to my appointment I begged my mom to drive an hour an a half to come with me. She happily obliged and snuck a look at both my weight and my ass. OK, she didn’t sneak the look at my ass, but it was inevitable when she was sitting next to the ultrasound bed and I had to disrobe.
Gah, tangent. I’m a bad story teller.
Long story short, the babies all looked great. My OB was able to find their heartbeats very easily with her doppler. When I lay down you can feel 3 distinct hard blobs where the babies are. After she was finished I went to sit up only to have one of them bulge out from above my belly button. My OB laughed and I was a little freaked out as I suddenly has visions of ALIEN flash into my head. The ultrasound revealed 3 active babies and a cervix that looks good (I think, I couldn’t see the screen).
My mom also had paperwork filled out for her so she can take time off from work to take care of me and the kids. I had hoped to be able to do the full bed rest thing and take care of Abby throughout the day alone, but that just isn’t possible. The combination of being pregnant with triplets and this being my 4th pregnancy has taken a major toll on my body. It didn’t help that I spent the evening visiting with my mom instead of laying in bed. Today my right hip pops in and out of place whenever I take a step. I have to give in and stop being so damn stubborn.
So, starting March 31st my mom will be living with us during the week to take care of things I can’t do. James is excited as he’ll have some help with the housework. I am full of guilt. My mom will have to take unpaid time off from work and she’ll have to put our family dog to sleep. Buster, the dog we all vowed not to get attached to, is deaf, blind, and unable to walk well due to arthritis. Our house has too many stairs and unknown smells. When he can’t smell his way around or loses his scent he tends to wander off. When things aren’t where they are supposed to be he runs into them and groans. He still sniffs me and is happy I am there, which makes it even harder. My mom looks at Buster (named by my then toddler niece who is turning 18 next month) and sees the happy dog that he’s always been. I see a dog who can hardly get up to go outside to go to the bathroom; and then once he’s been outside and comes back in he’s right back at the door wanting out again having forgotten that he was just out.
Gah, getting weepy now. Buster, the dog we found huddled in a corner at the county humane society the day after we lost our other dog. The collie mix mutt who broke the silence in our house. The dog Emma called BaBoo when she was a baby because Buster was just too hard for her to get out. I hate that it comes down to my mom choosing between me and the dog. Luckily, my mom is slihtly more logical than I and doesn’t see things that way. She knows it’s inevitable but that it still just plain sucks.
Preparations can be both physically and emotionally painful.
