The other night I was out to dinner with Mr. P - even seeing him in the evening is a rare occassion since he's been remodeling our new house - and enjoying nice enough weather to sit outside. I wasn't really hungry (probably due to eating out for breakfast and lunch that day as well?! - people love to feed the zoo animals I guess!) so I just had a lemonade and some steamed clams- clams I should have greatly enjoyed...but more on that later.
A woman was walking through the restaurant patio to her car and turned to me - feet up on a chair, rubbing my protruding gut and eyeballing Mr. P's beer - and she said, "You look great!" O-M-G! Now family and friends have thrown in the occassional, eyes-diverted, compliment on how I look - but I know they have to. However, for the most part, strangers even more than family, have made comments that included the words "big" or "twins" or "wow." None of which have I appreciated, and almost all of which have caused me to crumple into a ball of hormonal tears at some point when I was alone. This woman made my day. She may have been lying...or had cataracts. I don't care. My first instinct was to...well, cry. I also wanted to run up and hug her, go on and on about how much it meant to me, offer to make her this child's guardian angel...but I just smiled and said "Thanks." That may have been the only time I gave off a hint of glowing...because I was so flattered.
BUT...3 hours later those clams, known now as "possibly the last clams I'll ever eat in my life" began to wreak havoc on my digestive system - not just my stomach - but the whole business. I had completely forgotten how different food poisoning was from morning sickness - but it's different. After a couple of bouts...my mom and I decided I would go in to get all that "business" under control before I got too dehydrated. This would become my Test Run.
First my mom drove me and Jake followed in his car. My mom has a pretty flawless driving record, so she's not a bad driver persay...but going 35 when the speed limit was 50 did not maintain my confidence that I would arrive unsoiled. Mental note - when the real thing comes, Mom can't drive.
Then while I stood in line at the ER, a nurse took one look at me and sent me up to labor and delivery. Apparently, regardless of your issue, if you are a gestator, you go to labor and delivery. I headed off with congrats that I didn't care to correct from the other E.R. residents.
In labor and delivery I got a chance to practice my relaxation (although it probably helped that I wasn't in labor) while they hooked me up to monitors - for the baby, not me. I continued to try to relax while I got NOTHING fun like Phenagrin (a wonderful anti-nausea drug that sends me right to dream land). Then after I passed the drinking water and eating crackers test, I continued to practice relaxing while babies were apparently shooting out at a rate that wouldn't allow any doctors to discharge me.
Mr. P got a test run too. He was supportive...but drank 1/2 my water and cracked jokes when I was trying to sleep. I won't say he failed, but perhaps he would benefit from a few more practice runs.
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