Put simply, this weekend sucked. My exam revealed that I'm now 3 cm dilated and my amniotic sac is bulging out. My doctor tried to alleviate my disappointment by telling me I could have some chocolate for an Easter treat, but some things even chocolate can't help.
So there is no more talk of me going home at 34 weeks. There is no more talk of getting wheelchair privileges. No more hopes of going to the potty. And my shower privileges have gone from 4 'normal' length to two 2 minute showers. This is the worst it has been in a month, and to be honest--I'm pretty ticked off. I hadn't even gotten my extra shower and it is now gone. And I still won't have any more ultrasounds for awhile.
I didn't find out about the shower thing until this morning, so when Sloan (who was still asleep on the floor when Dr. Murray was here) said, "Happy Easter"--my response was, "Yeah. Happy *#@& Easter." This morning, I suppose, I replaced my desire to go to the potty with a potty mouth.
On a brighter note, I had been craving Doritos so Sloan brought me a snack bag to have as my Easter treat. I realized that Doritos have fewer carbs than Baked Lays (which I can have). Sloan is buying my some more Doritos this evening.
I know that Henry is still safe and for that I'm thankful. I also know that I've made it further than anyone expected. I know that none of this is my fault and that at some point I'll get to sleep in my own bed, shave my legs, eat whatever I want, not be woken up by someone with a needle, and, oh yeah, have a son. I also know that this is still the easiest Henry will ever be to take care of and that there are people starving in the Sudan. So I don't need any Hallmark cards with rainbows and daffodils reminding of these things. I just need some time and permission to take a day or two to be pissed off, cry, and talk like a sailor.