So apparently pregnancy makes one go crazy.
Besides the general pregnancy aching/nausea/insomnia, I have also developed a nasty head cold that I can't take anything for, because I am allergic to Tylenol, and all cold medicines approved for pregnant women include Tylenol.
And then three days ago I lost my anti-nausea pills and spent the next 72 hours hovering over the toilet and lying in bed. Fortunately, we got a rare mid-October snow storm here in upstate New York. I don't believe that there is a God-Who-Changes-Weather-Patterns-for-Me, but if there was, it could not have come at a better time. It snowed, I went to work up at the racetrack, and they cancelled the whole day since they couldn't put cars on a snowy track.
I told my husband this was the best thing that has ever happened to me, except for him, of course. I went home, took a bath, put my pajamas on, and went to bed for the rest of the day.
And then when I woke up(after my husband had gone on 2 EMS calls), it was late, and I was craving melons in the worst way, so my wonderful, dear, sweet husband went out in the cold and the night, bought me watermelon, cantalope, and honeydew. He then came home and cut them all up into biteable chunks for me to eat some and take some to work today.
Clearly, my husband is awesome.
He worked up at South Seneca Ambulance today(8am-midnight), and I was back at the track, so he got up, put my lunch together(just the melons), and we went to work. I have still been feeling like crap, and was hoping today was cancelled--no luck there. So I felt worse and worse all day, until finally we were done, I came home--and discovered the cat had thrown up or had diarrhea ALL OVER MY HOUSE.
Pre-pregnancy self would have yelled at the cat, grumbled about it and cleaned it up.
Pregnant self texted husband twice, called him once, and left him a message yelling that he shouldn't go on calls when I need to talk to him, (Irrational, yes, but that's the way I was feeling) since pretty much the only reason he won't answer my calls is he's either at a fire or with a patient.
And then I cleaned it up.
I think it's just the combination of being sick and pregnant and just plainly being worn down, but it's starting to feel like Rob is never home when I need him. He's home enough when I don't need him, but when everything is falling apart, he's at work. And, yes, he does work three jobs, and fire/EMS is not an especially family-friendly career.
And my suspicion is that if I asked, he would go do a 9-5 job somewhere--and hate it. And why would I want that? I was the one who pushed him to paramedic class, knowing full well the cost, since I was already a medic by then. I was the one who wrote the line in our wedding vows...
I promise to love you when love is easy, and when love is hard. When I need you, but you need to leave because someone else needs your help even more.
I knew, a hundred times over, what I was doing when I married a firefighter-paramedic.
And I love him so much, no matter how sick I get, no matter what I have to clean up when I get home from work. I see the sacrifices he makes for me(even, maybe picking up a few hours of my work shift tomorrow because I'm so sick, but don't want to call in), and I see how he treats his patients. We worked together on the ambulance long before we married, and I think that's what made me fall in love him--Rob's gentle, caring, compassionate ways towards his patients(the drunks at 2 am, maybe not so much).
So he'll be home tonight, and we have THREE DAYS OFF next week together...and we found my anti-nausea medicine. So now I'm going to take a warm bath, and put my pajamas on, and go to bed early.
He'll be home soon.
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