26w 6d (Tomorrow)

I found out 10 days before Christmas that my short term disability claim went from "paid" to "unpaid" when I didn't get paid on December 15th. As I've previously wrote about, my HMO deemed my claim a "behavioral health claim" and ignored the five hospitalizations I've had and my current instructions to lay down as much as possible and drink water. I am appealing the clam and KGII wants to me to appeal from home where I'll be spending my unpaid days freaking out over every dollar that I spend. That just isn't going to work. I have to work because I have to get paid. I can't support 3.5 people on air - we need money to live.

So tomorrow I'll be going back to work for either 45 or 84 days, whichever my HMO deems comes first. My feelings about going back to work run the gambit from "OMG. I'm going to diie! My baby is going to die! Won't anyone thing of my baaaabbbyyy?!?" to "I can do 84 days standing on my head. So what if I have contractions all the time? They aren't productive and I don't dialate. They are just pain and pain can be ignored. Just stuff it down there with the bitterness and resentment. It will be fine."

I wish I could write more about work here because I have a lot to say and no forum to say it in. I don't know what to do or what to say to my boss/mentor/coworkers. There is an overwhelming sense of dread - like I know what I'm doing is wrong for my health and the baby's health, but I'm powerless to stop it. Perceived lack of power has always been my primary trigger for anxiety.

Tomorrow is also my 32nd birthday. Historically, my birthday always makes me feel sad. Growing up, I always had a gymnastics meet or big test on the day. In college I had finals. Every other year, as with every year prior, it was eight days before Christmas. My family has always done a great job of separating the two holidays, but its hard for unicorns to shit out rainbows with pronouncements of my birth with the Christmas tree staring you in the face. I'm not sure what I've ever expected on my birthday, other than to be sad, so every year like a self-fulfilling prophecy, lo and behold, I'm sad. This year, I was going to go out to dinner with my family, but I'm not sure I'm going to be up to that after working for eight hours. Ideally, we would get take out and all gather around my bed and eat in the sheets, but even with a king size bed I'm not sure I can accommodate six people. Before I went out on medical leave, I would get up, go to work, return from work, and get into bed. That was it. I imagine I'll go back to that pattern - interspersed with the myriad of doctor's appointments that I have to go to.

Baby Bean is going nuts in my uterus. I think my uterus has shrunk since it was last occupied 7.5 years ago. Either that or this kid is so much more active than Zac ever was. Or he's a gestational diabetes kid and is currently three times the size of a normal 27 week gestation. Speaking of gestational diabetes, I'm supposed to start home testing four times a day. The only problem is that I can't get my monitor to work. The lancet pierces my skin (and hurts) but not enough to draw a drop of blood. The dog also ate a significant portion of my lancets and the whole thing just makes me feel so overwhelmed. Are you seeing a theme? Can you see why I'm still in my pajamas at 2pm on Sunday, typing out a blog post? I have a cat by my side and a dog that sleeps on the flood by the end of the bed. That's something.

The good news is I don't dig ditches for a living. I mostly talk on the phone. No one's life depends on me (well, except my children's and possibly KGIIs). I have an office job where the most taxing task I'm asked to do is stand up and use the copy machine. I can do this! I'll just contract in my chair and drink water and try not to cry. Office environments frown on crying employees. Just remind me of that in 45-84 days.