Last time, I SWEAR

Ok, this is my last post on the misery of being pregnant and sick. I promise.

Only 4 more days until I'm not pregnant anymore and life gets a whole lot harder, anyway. But better in many ways, of course.

I am giving Natasha the nickname "Bruiser". When I finally went to the doctor last week I found out I had a sinus infection. I'm on the Z-Pack, as they call it. I have one more pill left and am only starting to feel more human. I told the doctor about the pain in my ribs and he said it is most likely bruised or fractured. Thanks to the tremendous amount of weight you get to carry around, all the pressure on your ribs combined with the hormone relaxin that's released during late pregnancy to make your body ready to squeeze a kid out, it takes very little trauma to break bones or misplace joints. The ends of a woman's ribs are very small. A little excessive coughing or a rambunctious toddler in just the right spot (in this case, where Nat's foot likes to stay lodged) and vois las.

So it hurts. A lot. Am I a bad person for looking forward to the drugs I'm going to get when I get out of the hospital?

It makes me think about how moms in the 1800's westward migration did it. They had like 10 kids, so you know they weren't spaced far apart. The men were often gone digging for coal in another city or mining for gold. The women had to care for these kids, often while pregnant from the last time their DH's visited. And they still had 40 acres to care for. I guess that was before child labor laws were enacted. I have been abusing Adam's helpful nature a little bit. He's really low to the ground, though, so having him hand me something that I dropped on the floor isn't too abusive. Right?