Had a trip to the ER tonight. The cramps got up to one every minute at one point, so the nurse had me go in. So, at 19 weeks I'm already having Braxton-Hicks contractions. I guess my uterus is practicing for the Big Dance. They gave me a prescription to stop them and told me to drink 100 oz of water a day. Is that even possible?! I'm supposed to relax and check in with my nurse tomorrow.

The baby is too small to hook up to a fetal monitor, but it had a strong heartbeat. He sure was kicking a lot. The doctor was warning me about pre-term labor and how the baby isn't "viable" enough for delivery yet. She was preaching to me about relaxing and the harmful effects of stress. I was all, "Lady, I am totally chill. I got no worries." I will totally relax right after I clean up the dinner dishes, put away the laundry that's on the bed, take out the trash, wrangle the kid into her jammies, brush her teeth and put her back to bed 15 times. Then, I will totally put my feet up.

My after-care instructions actually said, "Don't lift anything; have someone else take care of household chores and cook for you." I had to laugh. I'm such a martyr, right?

I just want to say "thank you" to everyone that is offering assistance and kind thoughts. Seriously, I can't tell you how much it means to me. Unfortunately, I have no positive news to report on the home front...he just doesn't want to come back.

I've been desperately searching for a job and I have a couple options, neither of them what I was hoping for. I could take one job that pays barely over minimum wage and an unpredictable schedule, but has health care benefits and the possibility of promotion. Or, I could take another job that pays several dollars an hour more (still far less than my previous job), but does not have benefits (which I will need) and has no possibility of promotion, but would be working for a very nice lady that is sympathetic to my situation. Both jobs require a lot of time on my feet and daily lifting of large boxes, so that should be exciting.

By the time I pay for child care, I will be bringing home practically nothing. I applied for discounted child care, which I may qualify for, but only if I take the lower paying job...the one that would make child care difficult by its ever-changing schedule. With the temporary child support/spousal support I'm getting, I don't qualify for food assistance. Neither of these jobs will pay the bills that will allow me to keep the house or the minivan. Since I'm pretty sure I owe more on both those loans than they are worth, I'm not sure where that leaves me. Oh, I know...completely stressed out.

I've been able to disguise my belly pretty well until last week. All of sudden, it was just OUT there. I'd felt a couple flutters here and there, but I was too busy to really pay much attention. Friday night, he felt the need to really make his presence felt, by hosting a rave at 11 pm. It actually felt kind of frantic, which freaked me out, but it calmed down after about 30 minutes. I've definitely been able to identify his movements since then. However, Saturday, I started having tightening that felt like the Braxton Hicks contractions that I had with the Munchkin. Obviously, it is way too early for that to be normal, so when they didn't go away, I called the doctor Sunday night. I drank a TON of water, as directed, but they've still been happening. On Monday, the nurse reiterated that I need to be drinking at least 64 oz of water a day or I'll get dehydrated. I had no problem doing that at my desk job with Munchkin, but I'm kind of busy right now, so I haven't spent much time thinking about my water intake. My aunt told me that she went into premature labor when she got dehydrated, so I made sure to drink it today, but I still have the cramping, so I don't know what the problem is.

I keep thinking of that scene in "Reality Bites" where the newspaper editor asks Wynona Ryder's character to define "irony". We tried unsuccessfully for a year and a half to have a healthy pregnancy. I have one now, but I'm so busy being a single parent that I can't enjoy it. In fact, can barely think about it. That's irony.

Since I've announced the gender of the baby, I've been getting a lot of questions. I don't mind the questions at all, but the answers make me sad.

FAQ:

1. Do you have a name picked out?----No. I'm still thinking about using Isabella. The Munchkin likes Herman and Santa Baby.

2. Are you registered?----No. I don't even remember what a baby needs. With the Munchkin, we had the nursery oufitted and ready by month 3. I had every intention of having the nursery ready by now, but as previously discussed, there are more pressing issues, like where we will be living. All the baby clothes I have are pink and I'm totally okay with him wearing that. It will give him something to talk about in therapy when he's older.

3. Do you need anything?---Yes. A good paying job with benefits that will allow me to sit during my high-risk pregnancy. Affordable child care at a quality, licensed facility center. A miracle that will allow me to raise my children in this house. An angel that will magically save me from the insanity that will likely ensue when the newborn is screaming for no reason at 3 am and I am so tired that I don't know my name and my 4 year old can't sleep through the racket and I have to get up in 2 hours to get them dressed and ready for work. Because how am I going to be able to afford to take any maternity leave?!

Sorry...I'm having a pity party. I try to think about how much worse it could be, but I don't get very far sometimes.

Boy, oh Boy

Baby is 17 weeks today...My appointment on Monday went fine. I heard the heartbeat, which sounded very strong. Today, I had a Level 2 sonogram at the perinatologist. Baby looks great, right on schedule, weighs 6 oz. and...IT'S A BOY!!! (I have no clue what to do with a boy.)

So, my husband came by last night. We were able to talk about some next steps and we didn't even argue. It was nice to have normal-ish conversations about family and such.

I invited him to come to today's sonogram. I brought the Munchkin, as well, so she was excited to "see" the baby. He was absolutely thrilled to find out that it was a boy. It was nice to share a happy moment as a family. I asked (again) if he would come home and work things out. I told him that I missed him and he said that he missed me, too, but he just wasn't sure about coming back.

And so, here is my public plea to him...PLEASE come home. I know we can fix this. I am completely committed to doing everything I can to save this marriage. Come be a part of a lovely family of four. Without your constant supervision, this baby may end up wearing pink tutus and carrying sparkly wands. Please, please, please come home. We miss you.

I can't even give the baby much thought any more. All of my joy is packed away now. I'll still be cautious and avoid caffeine and all that, but I can't sit and dream or plan anymore. If I think too much about raising a newborn and a preschooler by myself, I start to panic. The Munchkin is still thrilled, of course. She asks about the baby constantly and talks about what she'll teach it and what a great big sister she's going to be. She pats my belly and talks to it. Ironic that the baby "we" wanted so dearly is finally coming, but I'll be raising it alone.