High five

So we're all good, all five of us.
Apart from sleeping through most of my days and nights the wonder drugs the hospital put me on have reduced vomiting to only the most inconvenient moments, such as when showering, or mid-conversation with someone. Other than that I'm free to eat and drink as before, minus the appetite I once owned.

I fly between giddy delight, excitement and utter terror at the drop of a hat.
The terror usually begins when I remember that I actually have to get these three babies out again, something I spend a great deal of my time trying not to dwell on.

I've managed to reconcile myself with having to close the business down 'temporarily' or at least for a year if not longer (it's probably going to be years) when I get too big, tired and run off my feet by little ones to dare multi-task two full-time roles.
The biggest reconciliation came when being told yet another frightening statistic for how the 3B's (much nicer than continually saying triplets, doncha think - the word 'triplets' starts to sound threatening after a while..) are likely to be in NICU or not make it if born too early. One ten minute crying jag at D about how our babies might die puts a heck of a lot into perspective I can tell you.

I still get scared, scared of trying to breastfeed three babies when I can't grow an extra boob, scared pregnancy is going to be uncomfortable to the point of pain as several triplet carriers have recounted and every now and then I want to put my hands up, book myself in at a clinic and make it go away because I'm almost certain I can't do this.
Then I inevitably remember that we're going to have three children and the happy gets in the way of all the throat-closing fear, at least temporarily.

No one in my town has had triplets for 10+ years, even the hospital is doing research into it, which doesn't fill me with the greatest feeling of security.
But I try remember it will all be okay, that I can deal with whatever comes my way and that any pain of discomfort is just a moment in time and will pass eventually.

D is a god among men, putting up with my orders that he completely guts the interior of the house, NOW, only to change my mind and decide that we need to move, to change it back when I don't want to leave our home.
I still catch him staring at me out of the corner of my eye, he murmurs how much he loves me in my ear all the time, tells me he's proud of what I'm doing, even when I fall asleep every time we try have movie or "alone time."
He is the embodiment of patience and is trying to both work full time, take care of me and the house, learn to cook and run parts of my business. Superman has nothing on him right now...well apart from the flying.

Surprise!

Let me rephrase my previous post, We're not just having a baby..... We're having TRIPLETS!!!!

I took the test

And I passed! Guess whose having a baby :) we re thrilled and have more exciting news to share tomorrow. Right now I'm in hospital with anti nausea medicine to curb my violent sickness

Sick as a dog

I'm hurling my guts up at the moment. I'll be back when the curses fade or the bribes work. Or I take my own life to just stop.the.hurling

Signage

I'm pretty sure the only reason these are located together is that to obtain one, you must first shred your hand.

How very ancient Egyptian booby trap of the national rail service

I ordered a PIZZA you ******!

Viva Pizza - Only order from them if you want to receive a completely different meal to the one you ordered, and then to get argued at down the phone that his mistake is actually yours for not originally ordering what he sent you.

It's hard to write the ha-ha's when you have the boo-hoo's

I have the boo-hoo's.
I feel rusty, and broken.
Since I got unbelievably sick in November (which I'm still recovering from) I've been having so many aches and pains it makes it difficult to work, live, be normal and blog.
Do I want to whine about my pain? No....Well, okay yes but I only want to whine at D, because whining is a sport where I obtain points for how red-faced and vein popping-outty he gets.
One day I really think I can make his head explode.
Awesome.

All my positive outlooks are now becoming fatalistic. Sure it's a nice day today but just you just wait until tomorrow.
I'd just pulled myself out of this funk last week (and finally returned to work) when I then fell down the stairs.
Funk returned with a vengeance.
And the stupid doctors put me on a new medication, which by their admission I don't really need 'but it's worth trying to see if it makes me better', and all that stuff has done is messed me up and made me really poorly again.

The world is lucky that I don't have access to missiles or a zombie army as with all the pain and PMT I'm having, I'd have probably launched them by now.
(Did I really just say that on the internet?)

So when I look at the shiny new thank-god-we're-alive world around me. I don't see unicorns and rainbows. I see ... well.. snow, but under the snow I see mud and slime and owies.

So to recap - everything sucks, I'm trying to explode D's brain, and I possibly made a faux pas internet statement.

I can usually pull myself out of such a mood, and am normally very optimistic, but things have become so quagmire-ish that I just can't seem to get outta this funk. Just as I pull my hand free, my waist sinks a few more inches.
I really need a vacation, or a girl's day to just eat, vent, get drunk, samba to the tango and then giggle all the way home. Most importantly I need to laugh, proper belly laugh, so if anyone has any films they can recommend for the intelligent ha-has please do.
I hate having the boo-hoo's