Fun new game: Throw a metal pan, clap with glee at the brain-shattering noise it makes, repeat until you get relegated to the playpen.
Hmm, I wonder if the pregnant friend I was talking to at the time is frightened.
I'm feeling much better. My appetite is back (unless one of the seven steps of grief includes Indian food and cookies), which is too bad because I was almost down to what I weighed in high school. Talking to the nurses at church really helped, which makes me think a different reaction from the physician's assistant would have made a world of difference. I am still sad, but it's nothing like last week when I couldn't walk past the spot on the street where I was when I first suspected something was wrong.
And I just got off the phone with the Too Busy to Care Women's Group to cancel my first prenatal appointment about which they were so thoughtful to have a machine call and remind me. They left me on hold for ten minutes while a chipper voice told me all about their talented and professional
I met a midwife this weekend at a party and I was all ready to head over to the South Birthing Center to get cleared for (the next) takeoff until I learned that midwives frown on epidurals in favor of "managing your pain using relaxation and breathing techniques in a home-like setting." And also that "most women go home within six hours of delivery." (to which I say "Oh, how wonderful. How long do you take care of the baby?)
Now if Charlie King of Cranky Babies Everywhere would just take a freaking nap. Because well rested babies don't start crying for no reason at the playground.