After my shower this morning, I laid down in bed for a few minutes rubbing my belly and talking to Maya. Here’s how our conversation went:
Me: Hello Maya, hellllllooooo!
Me: Hello little girl, how are you my darling?
Me: I love you Maya!
Me: Am I bugging you? Do you want to go back to sleep?
In other news, the Braxton Hicks contractions have continued. Last night I had 5 of them within about 45 minutes. I debated with D whether or not we should go to the hospital. Instead, I opted to drink a big glass of water and go lie down in bed. I ended up falling asleep but I did have three more BH, randomly, in the middle of the night. I know these things are supposed to be normal, but I gotta tell ya, they sure do make me nervous. I have decided to just keep a close eye on them and if they do ever get regular and consistent, I am heading straight to the hospital.
Speaking of nervous, last night’s dinner took years off my life. D and I decided to order pizza from our regular delivery place. We always get the same thing – half pepperoni and pineapple (for D) and half veggie (for me). Our pizza arrived and being the worrier that I am, I always put my half under the broiler for an additional few minutes *just to make sure it is fully cooked*. I have a really hard time trusting anyone to make my food right. So I re-cooked it, and sat down and had a big ol’ bite. I realized, at that point, I had bitten into a big mouthful of mushrooms – and (bloody hell) DIRT. DIRT!!! I ran to the garbage and spit it out. I was spitting for ten minutes trying to get rid of any and all traces of the dirt. I have no doubt I inadvertently swallowed some, it was unavoidable. And I don't need to remind you that mushrooms grow on shit.
I was beyond furious, arms waving and shouting at D. I wanted to call the pizza place and freak out on them but D wouldn’t let me because he was afraid they would spit on his next pizza. AS IF we are EVER ordering from them again!
I don’t have to tell you that I am the kind of pregnant woman who borders on full-blown insanity. I inspect my food to a ridiculous degree. I wash and re-wash my vegetables. I cook my meats until they are a blackened, crispy char. I have been known, on several occasions, to actually CALL the 1-800 numbers on packages of dairy products to specifically ask if my parmesan cheese is pasteurized. Nothing passes these lips without a full work-up and complete breakdown. And I just ate a mouthful of dirt. DIRT!!!
I really hope I didn’t just infect myself or Maya with some hideous disease or virus. Dirt fer fuck’s sake! Dirt. Good lord.