The Last Straw.

I've been trying to keep a positive attitude when it comes to these last weeks of pregnancy. I believe that when you start acknowledging/complaining about something, it makes that something ten times worse. Positive words go a long way in making unfortunate situations bearable. So I've avoided complaining about my sleepless nights, my huge uncomfortable belly, my return to all-day morning sickness, a constant stuffy nose, my inability to breathe, and the fact that none of my clothes fit me anymore. And I really, truly have been enjoying these last weeks of pregnancy. For real.

But then. The Last Straw. I started getting a *sty on my left eye (thanks to my pregnancy hormones) earlier this week and then the right side of my body - and only the right side - began to swell. Yesterday morning it all hit me at once, and I woke up with my eye nearly swollen shut and my right foot resembling a sausage. And I say "woke up" very loosely because I was awake most of the night due to my throbbing eye and nausea so in reality, I didn't wake up but just surfaced to consciousness from my zombie-like state. And I looked in the mirror. I think my exact words to Timmy were, "I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE." Meltdown.

A trip to the eye doctor confirmed my sty and showed that this cranky doctor was having a bad day too. He commented on the fact that my sty did not seem to be TOO bad and poked it repeatedly, asking me if it hurt -  in a voice that showed he didn't think so. My response? Yes, it hurts. It hurts like the dickens! Every time I blink it feels like someone is stabbing my eye with a needle! (Do you know how often we blink? Every three seconds. Yes. Miserable!) So he condescendingly agreed to prescribe some antibiotic drops. As he was filling out the prescription on the computer, I noticed an error message flashing in the corner that said, "WARNING! May present risks to fetus. Not to be taken when pregnant." which naturally caused some concern on my part...  But when I questioned him, he said, in an altogether unfriendly voice, that it would be FINE and shoved a handwritten prescription at me. Obviously, this prescription was torn to pieces shortly after leaving Dr. Cranky's office and right before calling Tim and sobbing hysterically about the horrible ordeal. (Crying doesn't help sties feel better, by the way.)

Meanwhile, my poor right foot just kept getting bigger and bigger. I called my midwife. She told me this freakish right-side-only swelling was probably due to the position of Baby Love and she was putting pressure on the blood vessels on my right side. She told me to lay down on my left side and relax. She also let me know that putting a black tea bag on my sty would take care of the problem naturally - no baby-harming antibiotic drops needed. I love my midwife. (I should have gone to her first.) But laying on my left side hasn't seemed to help much. You can add "lopsided" to the list of adjectives describing me right now. Also on that list would be miserable, emotional, and whale-like. (Pampered, loved, and happy are there too, thanks to my sweet hubby.)

The silver lining? My mom happened to be out visiting this week, and that was lucky for me because Moms always make being sick better. It's funny how just having Mom around makes things seem less scary. Also, my brand-new glasses with an updated prescription came in the day before I had to stop wearing my contacts due to my sty. I couldn't have functioned outside my house with my old glasses (the prescription is from a long time ago) so these new glasses enabled me to once again join the world of the living - at exactly the right time I needed them. Although I'm not totally certain I WANT to be outside my house...

*The word "sty" kind of makes me want to puke and I feel like it sounds like I have some sort of gross disease. Sties are just blocked oil glands in the eyelid, FYI.

**photos from a recent date night... see how well Timmy takes care of me?