Due Date: 04/21/2009
Week: 25+6 days
Month: 7 (what happened to months 1-6?)
Trimester: 2
Fetus Age: 24 weeks
Heartbeat: A number.
Time to Go: 98. Oh. My. Freaking. God. That's gotta be so very wrong.
Size: A cheetah? No, wait, a LION.
Time til 4D Scan: 20 days

Noah is still coughing. He's doing that excess F.O.F. thing again, he's currently in bed and has been coughing for the last...2 hours-ish, on and off. He's had medicine, I've dusted his room, D hoovered it, he has a vapour thingie going, Vicks on his chest and he's still coughing. I feel bad now for not doing something sooner.

I have some options. Call NHS direct (who are utterly UTTELY shit) and ask for their advice. I don't favour this option. I could create a huge fuss and take him to hospital right now. I don't like this option either but it's the most appealing, oddly enough. Or I could be sensible option: keep an eye on him and book him a doc's appointment in the morning. I don't like this one either, but I know it's probably going to be the smartest thing to do.

The por kid is now hoarse with all the coughing, and I know I won't sleep tonight for listening to him hoping to god that he's ok. I feel a bit (like, SERIOUSLY) shit for not doing something weeks ago, when all this illness started, but I guess I hoped he would have been over it by now. And I keep saying the same thing, day after day.

He was really shit today, denying most food, not drinking/guzzling water like he usually does, and doing that "I just wanna cuddle on your lap in front of the tv" thing because he's too exhausted and crappy to play. I feel even MORE shit because I'm so tired and have lost my rag so many times today. D is ill too (though I'm not sure with what...maybe some kind of stomach bug, from eating out of date yoghurt. I'm a miserable bitch, I have little/no sympathy) so I'm even more crotchety.

I would just like to point out that my reasons for being so crotchety with people who are ill at the moment is because I FEEL LIKE SHIT TOO DAMMIT but ya know, I try to keep plugging on. And I'd like my medal now please.

Which leads me on to wondering if there's something else I should finally sort out. I have to confess I have seriously contemplated going back on anti-depressants once T.O.O. is born. I'm hoping to god this madness with me is just the insane run of ridiculous preggo hormones. And that within minutes of T.O.O. being born, I'll be the happiest, most relatively normal person alive. (There really is nothing wrong with wishful thinking. I do, however, appreciate that sometimes there's a line of "realism" to be drawn. Doesn't mean I'll adhere to it.)

Flipping from "Sweetness & Light" to "Crazed Out Psycho Bitch Hormone Queen" gets to be pretty dull after a while. I can see how some lovely ladies thrive on it, but I'm thinking I'm not a fan, ya know?

Unfortunately, my last experience with anti-d's left me gaining about 3 stone in weight, vaguely being able to remember only 1-3 days in any week, and a short (but VERY vivid) stint in a mental care home. I'm not sure what put me off that place; maybe it was the bars on the windows..maybe it was the cameras everywhere...perhaps it was being searched daily for sharp and dangerous objects...it could well have been the other residents who liked to tell me some, uh, very uncomfortable things.

I'm hoping you can sense my reluctance.

Should I do the "wait and see" or "get my butt in gear"? I hate making decisions like these, especially when I often spend so much time wondering what the outcome had I chosen differently. *tsk*