It was bound to happen. In my case it is later rather than sooner (thankfully...) As my doctor wrote in the note for my employer, "Paige is experiencing a complication of pregnancy that requires bedrest for the remainder of her pregnancy." Toxemia. A wicked disease for which the only cure is delivery of a baby. In the meatime, it's Game Over. Do not pass go, do not collect $200. Go straight home, lay on your left side, and do not attempt any activity that will elevate your blood pressure. To-do lists, loose ends and plans be damned. This is so not fun, but it could be worse. MUCH worse. To wit: I could be 26 weeks along, instead of 36 weeks. I could be situated in a job without flexibility, benefits, an understanding boss, and technological resources for telecommuting from home. I could be alone, without a loving and doting baby-daddy to cart me to my "social outings" (i.e. weekly prenatal visits) and keep me company. I could have had a challenging pregnancy fro
My sister took this photo of Todd and me last night after their trick-or-treating extravaganza. Todd dressed as a pirate for Hallowe'en, but he has not yet mastered the "Art of the AAARRRRRGGGHHH!" as well as his Auntie Paige. He HAS mastered, however, the "Art of Wrapping Auntie Around a Little Finger." Instead of helping Storm Trooper Kyle pass out candy to the trick-or-treaters, Todd jumped into my lap to hide from the "scare-wy" costumes of the older kids. That was just fine with me!
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