This blog is becoming decidedly unsexier with another post about being pregnant.

I have to rant about this where I can be free to say whatever I want because I have been stifling my words for long enough.  So, quick back story...  I'm a nurse.  I work in the float pool.  This means they send me where they need extra staff throughout the hospital.  I work on a variety of floors and I love it.  I love moving around.  I love getting to know everyone.  I love it when everyone calls me when they bring food for special occasions.  (Float staff always knows where the food is!)  I've been doing this for 10 months and it's fantastic.  However, a while back, I asked them not to send me to OB/Postpartum because I was too emotional about not being able to get pregnant.  Now, I'm pregnant and I still don't want to go there because I don't want to see the new babies yet.  I get too scared about mine and what is going to happen. 

Last night I arrived and found I was scheduled there for the first 4 hours of my shift.  Initially, they had sent another nurse, but she freaked out and said she couldn't do it.  She went back to the nursing office and said "Send Bunny.  She's pregnant.  She needs to be over there."  And so they did that.  Thanks for volunteering me.  As if I don't have enough people telling me what I need to be doing right now!  I try to make the best of it.  I don't spend too long holding any babies or even looking at them.  (I don't assess them cause I'm not comfortable assessing a baby.)  The other staff is nice, for the most part and I made jokes about being hormonal and not wanting to be around the babies.  No one understood why I might possibly feel that way.  Still, I kept it together and followed my best friend's advice, delivered via text, "No crying!" I ended up staying there for the full 12 hours. I almost made it.

I talked a little about being pregnant with one of the nurses there. 

"I'm really early, only 10 weeks." I said.

"Oh, don't lift anything heavy!" She responded and I ignored it.  Later, I was talking about how I was going to have genetic testing done.  This dumbfounded them even more.  I explained why it was important that I find out if my weird chromosome abnormality was passed on. 

"You know there's risks to that!" This obnoxious nurse told me. 

"I understand that.  But I'd rather know if I'm carrying a child with this abnormality so I know what I'm up against.  It's not compatible with life." That's close enough to how I responded.  How I wanted to respond was like this... 

"REALLY!  THERE ARE RISKS!  That's funny, because the genetic counselor we talked to completely failed to mention the risks when going over my options for genetic testing.  Isn't that weird!  I'm so glad you were here to tell me this information!  Now that I know there are risks, I won't have it done!  I mean, why take the chance, right?  And while I'm at it, I'll stop driving to work, because I might get into an accident on the way there and lose the baby.  I should also probably stop eating food, because I might choke and die and lose the baby."

Later on, they were prepping a baby for a circumcision.  I stated that I wished to be out of there before it started so I didn't have to hear the baby crying.  A day shift nurse turned to me.

"Well, what are you having?"

"I don't know yet.  I'm only 10 weeks, but if it's a boy, I'm not having that done."

She got quiet and looked at me for a moment as though she was sad for me.  She placed her hand on my arm.  "I'm going to tell you...  I couldn't marry a man who wasn't circumcised.  I guess as mother's we project that onto our children.  My sister didn't have it done with her boy and I feel sorry for him.  I'm sorry for giving you my opinion like that."  I said nothing.  I wanted to say that my baby wasn't going to want to marry her.  I wanted to say was that I've been with guys who are and who are not and that they are both just fine.  That would have been enough to make me look like a huge slut.  Imagine if I had told the truth.  My boyfriend is intact and my husband is not and I'm fucking them both!  Up yours!  All of you with your stupid advice and condescending detached way of delivering it!  And stop asking me if I'm feeling okay!  Do I look like I'm not feeling okay?  I'm pregnant.  Not broken. 

I was still keeping it together at this point.  I had one more nurse to give report to and I would have been outta there before the damn broke.  They stole that nurse away to help with the circumcision and I was left to my own devices in the break room.  Alone.  Annoyed that I couldn't go home on time and annoyed at all the stupid, judgmental bullshit that I've put up with all night.  I thought about the babies.  Then I lost it. 

What if there's something wrong?  What if I lose it?  What if I never get to hold my baby like the moms here?  I want this so badly!  All of it.  I want the exhausted but accomplished look of having given birth.  I want the challenge of breast feeding.  What if I never get it....  

I lost myself to uncontrollable sobs.  The last thing I wanted was for someone to notice and ask me what was wrong.  I texted my BFF who sent me encouraging words.  I splashed some water and my face and dried my tears.  I got out there and gave report and then I went right to the nursing office where I broke down again.  I told them I can't do it.  I can't go to OB right now.  I can't do it.  All I could think about was losing my baby.  The supervisor hugged me and consoled me and reassured me that she knew exactly how I felt and that she would pass it along to the others.  She hugged me.  I probably got snot in her hair.

I stopped on the way home and got a glazed donut with chocolate icing.  I ate it with a large glass of milk.  It was awesome.  Now I'm going to have a shower and have sex with my husband, does that count as lifting something heavy?  Does it?  Ah, fuck it.  That's exactly what I intend to do. 

Update: It was a loooong hot shower and some hard and fast sex. Bite me bitches!