flat on my back

right now my pits reek worse than puddn’s sweaty (and hairy) ass after crossfit. and it’s after 5 pm, and i haven’t brushed my teeth yet today. seriously, i’m repulsive. but who gives a sh*t? it’s not like anyone’s gonna see—or smell—me when i can’t get outta the damn bed…

whoa, there's really a friggin' baby in there?

i was released from the hospital last monday, but only if i promised i’d go on strict bedrest…like for real this time. so i guess that means no lunching, dinner-ing, shopping, walking or “magic mike”-ing this time. ooopsie.

i admit, up until now i haven’t exactly been the best bedrest patient ever…unless you count running around town, being on my feet all day, and having a yard sale as bedrest. but i pinky swear to gawd i’m gonna be good now. that little hemorrhage incident last week really scared me straight.

as my high-risk doc instructed, i’m allowed to “lie in bed, take a shower, make yourself a sandwich, and lie on the sofa and watch ‘oprah.’ that’s about it.” is “oprah” still even on? well anyway, you get the idea. i can’t really do much of anything, including stand on my feet. stinkin’ baby.

so what have i been doing? well, obviously, a whole lotta nada—well, except for watching tons of c-section videos on youtube. yah, that’s fun. (note to self: if you know you’re having a c-section, don’t watch any f*cking videos of them online.)

so basically i’ve got bupkiss for blog material, which is why i’ve gone radio silent. sorry, folks, but it’s hard to whip up a story when the most exciting thing i’ve done is battle with with an angry, scorching vaginal infection. oh wait, is that TMI? well tough. cuz lemme tell ya, if you think bedrest is bad, you should try it with a raging, burning, swollen mess ‘tween your legs. yah, i said it.

to make matters worse, we’ve had construction being done on our house…building the new baby’s nursery. so just 5 feet from my head has been constant hammering and banging since i got in the effing bed. and then of course it’s been sweltering hot and we don’t have AC. good times.

it just stinks. aren’t all pregnant chicks supposed to parade their big, adorable bellies around town, stroll up and down the aisles at whole foods, and suck up all the “you’re glowing!” and “you’re gorgeous!” compliments from strangers? i mean, am i right or am i right?

i know, i KNOW i shouldn’t complain. i’ve surprisingly made it to 33 weeks…almost 34! so thankfully, the bambino would probably be okay at this point. he’d still be in the nicu for a bit, but he’d totally live—even if i croak (which i keep threatening to do). he even weighs more than puddn did when he was born, and jesus, look at that overgrown idiot now. i hope to god this baby gets his height and my…well, everything else.

and thankfully, mooshie, my mom-in-law (formerly known as milsie, which stinks pronounces “mooshie”) flew here the minute i went into the hospital. so i haven’t lifted a f*cking finger, but i’ve eaten gourmet gluten-free meals every day, had my laundry done, my house cleaned and my kid entertained. (thank you, mooshie…love youuuuuu! and don’t goooo!)

and another thing: my cankles are pretty much gone…and my varicose veins (okay, my one varicose vein) doesn’t throb anymore. now if only bedrest could work on my cottage cheesy legs, i’d be happy to lie here forever.

everyone says i should just shut the f*ck up and enjoy this time to myself…cuz apparently in a few weeks, i’m gonna wish i could spend all day, every day in bed.

3 more weeks to go! let’s do this, baby!