As I wallow in my bed before forcing myself to get up for the day I ask myself "When will this end?" Unfortunately I know the answer...when I have the baby. I running out of humorous things to say because this isn't all that funny anymore. I'm just plain miserable.
Poor, sweet Dexter rubbed my feet the other day which was lovely. He has been doing the dishes too because around 7 pm I'm done for the day. He asked me yesterday if he could get me anything. I said "July." I think its starting to sink in for him that this isn't great for me.
I have started to contemplate having a c-section. I have no idea if my doctor with comply, but the thought of recovery on top of 9 (really folks its 10 months-40 wks) months of just feeling like crap is making me tear up right now.
My next project that I want to tackle is to figure out how to do a Jedi mind trick so I don't even have to convince Dexter that 2 kids is enough. He wants 4--no really he wants 12--but I originally agreed to 4. Its important to note that I agreed to 4 children before I ever got pregnant. Now that I know about pregnancy and motherhood, I really think that 2 is plenty. I haven't the slightest idea of how he will be happy with just 2 kids unless he comes up with it on his own...any suggestions?
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