Walking downstairs from my bedroom to the kitchen (because where else do you store a jug o’ pee? Yup. Right there next to that bottle of Chardonnay that is not for sipping but cooking only now.) I tell myself, “OK. Remember, right hand is your water. Water is CLEAR. Left hand is the cup of pee. Pee is not for drinking. Don’t get all baby brained out on me at the last second and try and sip from the pee cup, got it?”
Yes, I’m mentally telling myself not to drink my own urine. It is a sad state of affairs.
I wasn’t feeling so hot this past week and when I developed a pain in my upper right side I decided I didn’t want to go down the bed rest route like I did with TD a full ten weeks than when I was pregnant with her so I went to see my doctor yesterday. Just like last time I’m going in for more tests today and I’ve been peeing in a fabulous orange jug for the last 24 hours.
I’m feeling better today but that is probably due to the fact that I’m trying to learn the subtle art of lazing around with my kid while watching episodes of A Baby Story and sneaking in bits of The Hills when she leaves the room.
Hang in there… I’m hoping for you that you don’t have to go on bed rest. That’s such a scary prospect with an older child at home.Sending you best wishes!
Now that would be the worst case of baby brain EVER if that mix up happened. Now I’ll think of you each time I reach into the fridge (btw – I’d totally screw that up and drink the pee).