Ah the love

After finishing up our baby shopping on Tuesday (just nursing tanks left on the list...which I am procrastinating on cause damn they are expensive and what happens if nursing isn't successful!) we did dinner with my dad, stepmom and one of my aunts. Madelyn was taking a bruising 101 course in my belly and even ashs eyes got big when he put his hand on my stomach during one of her assaults. It was an uncomfortable dinner! When we finally got home (we missed lost which pretty much doesn't happen here in this household) I started getting mild cramping and headed to bed. I woke up an hour later to severe cramps that I immediately started timing again. This lasted for 5 hours and even though they never got closer than 6 minutes, I called labor and delivery at 3am, cranky and exhausted. They told me to take a bath and try to sleep. Right, a bath at three in the morning...excellent advice. The contractions stopped on their own sometime after I forced my eyes closed to a clock that said 4am.

These suck by the way. I am all about contracting and the baby producing process, but it is just that....I want these events to produce an outcome, not just go away and not have a baby in the end of the pain tunnel.

But, my post is not just about contractions. Everyone knows I live my job, I love it, I do. But I am getting on my last nerve here and just need a moment to vent. I used to be full time but switched to part time to move to "the clinic" as we shall call it from now on, with the agreement that it would go to full time sooner than later. I am kicking ass. I do well at my job and often give the full timers a run for their money sales wise even being there less hours. My beef is this: most of last month 3 out of us four gals were on vacation, or sick, or dealing with family business....guess who covered ass and got to deal with changed schedules, added sales goals and overall coverage of the counter -8 month prego lady. Not a big deal, I dealt with it... until here we are in month 2 of covering ass and I am now 9 months, ready to poop (haha, meant to spell pop, but poop is also a good word to use). When I should be calling out because I got two hours of sleep from contractions, or just sheer f*ing exhaustion, I work and have my schedule changed to accomondate someone else calling out. It's awesome. My work actually called monday to see if I could pull a 6th work day this week....6. They also scheduled me to work until 11:15 pm this Saturday in my 38th week of pregnancy. I've already been called today to switch my schedule, instead of a mid shift, I now get to close because the same person is continually calling out. So my next four days are as follows - close, open early, close late, open. Awesome. I am supposed to be the one causing others to work around my health, yet here I am.

Pissy.

-- Post From My iPhone