Scrambled eggs

As a couple, when you get pregnant, it’s normal to worry some. I was definitely jumpy at first, particularly after the miscarriage. Gradually, I’ve managed to unwind a bit although I reserve the right to have a bad day from time to time.
Will is a natural worrier. He can be a champion worrier under normal circumstances. The pregnancy has simply added a new dimension to it. Now it’s not just work, the house, his future, his growth as a person, his ___(insert item)___. Now, we have the baby to worry about, and occasionally me by extension. Usually, it’s sweet. Sometimes, it’s a bit much.
As an example, my sinuses/allergies went completely haywire. They had been bad, but I had managed to survive without taking anything other than poo-poo acetaminophen for the 3 week-long headache I had. Then, we went on a family reunion, during which the family decided a trip to a smoky casino was a fab idea (note to self and all other knocked up ladies out there: say no to casinos while PG. Seriously.). After about 20 minutes, Will started to worry about me breathing in the secondhand smoke. He began to frantically look up studies on the internet using his phone between hands of video poker. Fortunately, I was repulsed by this time (by the smoke and all of the gross old ladies and men who were openly hacking all over the machines), so we cashed out and waited outside for the rest of the family to exhaust their wallets. The next day, I felt like crap. This was after a night during which neither of us could sleep as I simply could not breathe. Will even went out to the drugstore in the middle of the night to get some lozenges and nose strips. It was finally time to break down and take some medication. Cue dramatic, suspenseful music.
Will had been with me at the doctor’s visit when I asked about taking stuff for allergies. She was pretty supportive about me taking Claritin, Mucinex, pretty much anything I would normally take for this stuff (including the decongestant varieties). Her main concern was for me to avoid any type of painkiller stronger or different than Tylenol. Despite this, Will gave me endless grief anytime he saw me taking a pill. Was I hurting the baby? Did I REALLY need to take that? I tried to be patient, but after a few days of it, I finally had to yell that DAMN IT, I WAS NOT GOING TO DO ANYTHING TO HURT THE DAMN BABY AND DID HE WANT ME TO FEEL AWFUL ALL THE TIME AND BE UNABLE TO BREATHE OR SLEEP EVER AGAIN? I haven’t heard much since.
Another classic example was from our recent trip to the beach. We stayed at a nice condo complex which had a great water slide by the pool. The first day, Will urged me to slide with him. The second day, it occurred to him that it may be bad for the baby. After playing for a while, he looked at me very earnestly and asked, “Does the baby have shaken baby syndrome now? “ He fretted about that for the next 24 hours. It’s quite sweet but sometimes it is a bit silly.

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About larva225

Working mom. Is there any other kind? Geologist. Nerd.
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