A good friend of mine at work just became a stirrup queen and my heart just breaks for her. She just had surgery to remove her fibroids last week. They took out 18, one that was the size of a grapefruit and she's now recovering from what was essentially a c-section. She says she's so glad I'm there, since I have some idea what she'll be going through when she starts up with IUI's in a few months. Of course, part of me wishes I didn't know...but right now, the other bigger part wishes she didn't need me. Just like so many of us, she wants a family more than anything and will be a wonderful mom...and of course today at work I read about a custody hearing in a divorce where neither parent wants the pre-schooler. Poor baby, someday he's going to realize that his parents fought to not have him...and we fight tooth and nail to even try. It just doesn't make sense. Why can't there be some type of quota on infertility so we can spare other people all this crap?
All that anxiety and paranoid is back and big time. Sunday and today I had this tightening or cramping across my whole lower abdomen and my uterus got rock hard. Happened twice Sunday and three times today. After consulting Dr Google, who suggested that it could be Braxton-Hicks but it was too early to feel them yet, I decided to call my doc. I got to speak to a nurse, but not the nurse that I like. She said there was no way it was BH and that I'm probably just dehydrated. She's right on that since I forgot my water bottle but I'm still worried. She did say if it didn't get better in the next 1-2 days to call back and he'd have me come in. So of course now I've got visions of second trimester miscarriages running through my head. So please, tell me I'm being ridiculous and I'll be fine tomorrow once I start chugging the H2O.
Other than that, thanks for all the sweet comments on my spare tire/donut belly. You ladies are SO good for my self-esteem. Tomorrow I'm off to visit the nice old ladies at N.ordstrom for some help with bras. I have no idea what size I'd even be anymore, but I know that these two stretched out pieces of cotton are NOT cutting it anymore. You see (actually you don't want to see), I woke up with numerous stretch marks on my boobs this morning. The girls are obviously begging for some support. Hopefully that will help adding any more patterns to them. Between the blue veins and nasty purple marks, I look like some piece of random, abstract, modern art. Any assvice on bras would also be much appreciated.