Tales from La La Land

Laef had one final work trip this past week. He was in Michigan with the UCLA water polo team for 5 days. I’ll just say that I am really glad this traveling shit is behind us.

The highlight of my weekend (aside from the horrendously horrible migraine I had, which led to me barfing and swearing I would never drink again only to realize, wait a minute. I didn’t even drink! Who is doing this to me and why?) was buying a queen-sized waterproof mattress pad for our bed. OK, yes, maybe I’m spending too much time reading baby books and nesting, but I do not have shit else to do except try to get everything in order. And, what if my water does break on our bed? The last thing I want to come home to after delivering a baby is a fucked up mattress.

Anyway, let’s just say that things are getting progressively sexier by the day. We are now the people with plastic on our bed. And Laef actually asked me this question (he is also reading baby books) “Do you have maxi pads? Extra absorbent ones?”

What. The. Fuck. Is. Going. On. Around. Here?

I digress.

Since the team only played one game per day while in Michigan, there was a lot of down time. So they went to the movies and saw Fast Five and Bridesmaids. The second might have punched me in the gut a little as I really want to see it, and there’s probably < .09812 of a chance that I could convince Laef to see it a second time.

We were talking about it afterward and he said it was funny. I told him that No Strings Attached had just arrived via Netflix, and I asked him if he wanted me to save it for when he came home “since you looove Natalie Portman so much.”

Laef: “Wait. So, I saw a poster for another movie that is the exact same thing. Friends with benefits or something.”

Me: “Yeah, that one has Mila Kunis, so maybe you’d rather see that instead since Mila is way hotter than Natalie.”

Laef: “I know. Especially now that Natalie is all pregnant and …”

Me: “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

Laef: …

No, he didn’t mean it that way.

But I told him: “Congratulations, you’ve just made me list of things not to say to a pregnant woman. You almost made it the whole nine months!”

They say people get uber-tired in their first trimester of pregnancy. I didn’t really experience that. I felt great all through, and for the most part had my normal energy to go to the gym, continue to run, do housework, cook and meet up with friends for dinner.

However, someone must be trying to prepare me for what it’s going to be like once the baby comes and I am sleep-deprived. I just entered the ninth month and have just 4 weeks to go. And I’m a walking fucking zombie. I am so tired I can’t even see straight. I have zero energy to do anything. On the weekends I wake up around 8 and go down for my first nap of the day around 11 a.m. I usually sleep for 2 more hours and then wake up and hope that I can do something useful and productive with my day.

The funny thing is, I sleep fairly well during the night – except for the several times I have this conversation with myself:

Me: “I think I need to pee.”

Me: “No, I think it will be OK.”

Me: “No, I really think I do.”

Me: “Just see if you can fall back asleep.”

Me: “Fuck. I might as well just get up and go so that I can be done with it and potentially fall back asleep until morning.”

Me: “FINE THIS FUCKING SUCKS.”

Yet I am still so tired. I could nap all day and still feel like I’m in a daze.

Speaking of peeing in the middle of the night. I drink a ton of water during the day. I sit at my desk at work and drink water all day. So, I figure I’m plenty hydrated, and that like a toddler I should cut off all drinking of liquids after 7 p.m. This way I can hopefully only get up 122 times per night instead of 150. Last Friday I stopped drinking water and made a frozen pizza for dinner (this tells you how tired I am). I knew this was going to be an issue because, well, have you seen the amount of sodium in a frozen pizza?? It should be illegal. Sodium = horribly swollen feet.

So, not only did I not drink water that night, I also ate 4 billion mg of sodium. Needless to say at 5:30 a.m. I got a cramp in my calf that was so painful I thought maybe the baby was being born, only it was coming out of my calf and not my vagina. All I know is that I stuck my leg straight up in the air, screamed bloody murder, punched Laef in the chest and said, “cramp, cramp, cramp!!!!!!!!!”

Never, ever, ever scream at a man in the middle of the night when you are 9 months pregnant. EVER. Once he gathered himself and realized this situation was not baby-related, he worked the giant knot out of my leg and we both sat their with our hearts racing still trying to figure out what just happened. And for some reason we both started busting up laughing. Like uncontrollable laughter.

Me: “I was all, cramp!! And your face, omg…”

Laef: “YOU SOUNDED LIKE A HURT DONKEY.”

Me: “It hurt.”

Laef: “You really need to work on your pain screams. You don’t want to do what you just did in the hospital. WHAT was that? It was a donkey scream, I swear.”

So, I guess along with putting the final touches on the nursery, installing the car seat and putting the Pack-N-Play together, I will be working on my labor screams over the next couple of weeks.