Apparently allergy season is in full force in our great state. Good gravy. My eyes are about four scratches from falling out of my head. And my throat itches so intensely it makes my inner ear itch. I feel slightly bad for Travis as this is the first year he has truly experienced allergies. I only feel slightly bad because now I have a partner in my misery. Except he can take allergy medicine. Due to this lovely bun in my oven, I cannot. At least from everything I have read. I am planning on contacting my doctor's office shortly to find out the truth according to them.
This child and I have reached a point where I believe we are both uncomfortable. I know I am, and based on how hard my stomach is I can't imagine he has much room left in there. The other clue that he may be not so comfy is his constant attempts to escape. I swear one of these days I am going to be walking around with a head coming out of my stomach to the left of my belly button and a foot coming out of my right side. I'm not sure if he missed the memo about how he is supposed to exit, or maybe he really wants to be born via C-Section. Can't say I blame him. Neither can my hoo-ha.
I am pretty sure the evilness known as a gas bubble was back early this morning. And this time it was mobile. If I laid on my right side the bubble caused a sharp pain on my left side much like what I would imagine it to feel like if I were to be stabbed with a hot fire place poker. The really cool part, if I rolled over, the pain went to the other side. Kinda like bubbles in a soda bottle. Except evil and painful. And sleep interrupting.
I am itchy, packed full with a squirming kid, and sleepy. This does not a happy lady make.
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