The icky truth

I will readily admit, the pregnancy roller-coaster has been an interesting one. You never know what is around the next corner ...
loop-de-loop
upside-down-triple-spiral
90-degree-drop-straight-down
And we are in the first seat of the first car for this ride, so its all just in your face.

The newest one has manifested itself in the last few days and is frankly, gross.
That of course, is my disclaimer. I mean, it is not that gross, but probably not dinner-table conversation.
Who am I kidding, 90% of the content on this blog is not dinner conversation. Moving on.
I consider myself a clean person. I bathe daily. Brush (and floss) my teeth. Wear clean clothes and deodorant. So, yes --odds are if you were to sit next to me on public transportation, I wouldn't drive you away with my stink.
Unless you have an issue with either Lush's Olive Branch bath wash or Burberry perfume.
In which case, you have no nose -- so I don't want to sit next to you either.
Bottom line: I have some basic hygienic habits.
I offer this up as if you were to see me in the last few days you might question one or two of the above actions.
Seems I have developed a sweating problem.
Like pitting-out beyond anything that you can cover up sweating problem.
I am not that hot in the office. Have tried layering to remove as it becomes an issue, short-sleeves to ensure that I am as cool as possible. Clinical strength deodorant.
Nada.
I look like that guy from the Oceans 11 series who just drips sweat all the time.
And thats the odd part -- its not like every part of me is sweating buckets.
Nope --just some good ole' nasty pit marks.
It is my true-true hope that this is another one of those "hormonal" issues that tend to plague us knocked up chicks. Because if it is -- then the end is in sight.
So in the interim, I have to wear the darkest colors I can to work - which isn't that big of a deal. Most of my clothes land squarely in the black or gray color scale. And for days that I don't, keep the fleece handy to cover-up. Of course, layering a fleece when you are (apparently) sweating buckets doesn't really help, but its what I have to deal with. The only other option would be to take a break every hour and just go stand in the parking lot until I cool off -- except I don't feel that hot and its January in Iowa. You see my dilemma.

In what could be construed as possible good news, the doctor did give me a "you are making progress" pep talk this week. There is a little change -- roughly a CM, so that means that SOMETHING is happening.
Just not quickly enough.
And frankly, I could stay at this point for 3 weeks.
Or not.
So I implore you, think good, positive labor inducing thoughts for me.
There you go - your TMI entry for the day.

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