Ugh.

This has been a week of hell all around. Maybe it's some sort of pre-holiday thing. Dwana had some complications from her procedure Wednesday; they had to go back in today and repair some bleeding and she may have a slight infection. :( I think she feels like she's been beaten up inside and outside. I now know about some of the scary things they put you through with it, though--it starts with a needle in the cervix and seems to go downhill from there. But of course it's better than letting things build up and lead to something more serious. Still, I wish just once she could have everything go alright and not have any weird reactions. I'm sure she feels the same way. Argh. Even worse, her friend Heather, who went into premature labour Tuesday night did deliver her little boy, but both mom and son are in the ICU. The baby's doing pretty well--he's 4 1/2 pounds and not quite developed in terms of his lungs, but he'll probably catch up soon. She was far enough along that I think everything on that front will be okay. But Heather also had her vitals bottom out during delivery so they did an emergency Caesarian section and apparently she bled pretty badly during that--they're having family donate blood, etc. (I kind of wish I hadn't just given; unless she's Rh negative I could give to her). I'm sure everything will be okay in the end, but it's a lot of strain during what should be a happy event, and of course Dwana's frustrated because she can't be there. I've only met Heather once but I feel like there must be something I should be doing--but of course if I showed up at the hospital her family wouldn't know me from Adam. But I think the church brigade has been alerted, so I think they'll be okay. Maybe it's just as well little Caleb will be the hospital a bit--it'll give his mum a chance to recover.

It's just something like that which scares the bejeesus out of me if I think about it too much. Maybe I'm a little psycho because my mom had so much trouble carrying me (although at least the delivery was a piece of cake). I can remember as a teenager being afraid things would go horribly wrong during pregnancy. Then I was told I might not be able to have kids (although I think that's poppycock--my hormones are a little screwy but everything else seems fine, especially when I have my blood sugar under control). That was a shock but a little bit of a relief. Then I was in a marriage but so needed to not be breeding, and the subject's been pretty moot since then. I'm sorry to say that in my case I think it's a control thing. Once you become pregnant, control flies out of the window. You can do all the right things and still run into snags, whilst moms strung out on cocaine can have perfectly fine babies. I guess the only way to deal with that fear, though, is to focus on the end result and the good aspects of it all, then deal with the crises if necessary.

I've actually been doing okay--I read furiously Monday and Tuesday, I've taken advantage of the lull at work to go through and purge, organise some old files, typed furiously a couple of nights in a row, and I've had some problems with my asthma and allergies. But none of that should make me so tired, right? Fortunately tomorrow I have the whole day to myself, so I plan on getting some rest, doing some laundry, and working on the house. This morning I learnt not to gasp for air whilst walking between a road and a forest/creek area. I inhaled a bug straight into the windpipe, with an albuterol chaser. Ugh. I always thought the Jains had the right idea of wearing a veil or some other barrier between them and the insects outside. They don't want to unnecessarily kill another creature, no matter how small.

Oh, gee, it's getting late and I am soooooooo sleepy. I'm sure I'll write tomorrow. In the meantime, I'm sure I'll blog tomorrow. 'Night.