Some Kind of Torture

I only had two absolutes going into this pregnancy:  1. Avoid getting sick at all costs and 2. Avoid getting induced at all costs.  Well, #1 went to shit this past week.  I was doing so well avoiding germy people (yes, I am one of those hand sanitizing wipes carrying freaks), but right after Thanksgiving I managed to catch a stupid cold.

Note: When you’re 35 weeks pregnant, NOTHING you are allowed to take helps. I’m sorry, but benadryl and cough drops aren’t going to cut it (holy hell would I have killed for a box of Mucinex).  I could hardly breathe and my face filled up with snot (pretty, no?).  A compromised immune system + little bitty cold = completely debilitating.  And to add insult to injury, the little that I was allowed to take kept me up so there was no napping in bed to be done. So there I was at home for FOUR miserable days, wide awake to enjoy it all.  Folks at work even had to reschedule my baby shower (I guess they actually want me to be there).

I am somewhat alive today.  Still a little snotty, now with an added bonus of a phlegmy cough.  But I showered and got out of the house – a huge achievement based on the last few days.  The Mr. put up the christmas lights on the house and we got a tree.  Having ourselves a little merry-ness with takeout and Elf is definitely cheering me up.

But I’m still bitter and disappointed in getting sick.  I really tried my best to avoid it at all costs.  FAIL.

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