This post may contain TMI. You’ve been warned.

I’m already at the point where I have OB check-ups every 2 weeks instead of once a month and oh my GOD does it make time go by faster. Between vet visits and Little Evan’s check-ups and trying to keep the laundry piles to a reasonable level and making sure there’s at least some sort of toddler- appropriate food in the house I can barely remember to SHOWER every 2 weeks, let alone show up for appointments at predetermined times. Especially when I can hardly walk from the kicked-in-the-crotch pain combined with the horrible-strained-muscle-in-my-leg pain and now for extra fun throw in what-I’m-pretty-sure-is-a-raging-UTI pain.

I WARNED YOU.

Yesterday I was so proud of myself for making it to Stroller Strides, only to discover not only can I barely walk around the park I definitely can’t jump up a flight of stairs or stand on one leg while doing chest presses with an elastic band. I guess the good news is I showed up and plan to go again Wednesday and maybe even Thursday if I can still walk. Which is doubtful, because at my OB appointment today I was all “Oh hai, I have a UTI” and the doctor was like “Ok, you need to go down to the lab for a test and we should have the results by Friday.” And then I died dead. Because if you’ve ever HAD a UTI you know how long 48 hours can be if you feel like you have to pee constantly while at the same time feel like you’re being stabbed in the crotch with a super pointy knitting needle. (Not to be confused with my already constant KICKED in the crotch pain.)

Luckily, E was more sympathetic than the doctor and took Little Evan to the store for giant amounts of cranberry juice while I lay on the couch only moving enough to hit “next” on my Google Reader. Hopefully some rest and a ton of fluids does enough to keep me from ending up bed-ridden. Because if there’s one thing worse than being in so much pain you can’t get out of bed it’s being in so much pain you can’t get out of bed while a toddler jumps on your stomach and hits you in the face and screams that he wants milk and a new diaper.

In other 30 week check-up news, my doctor said that although Braxton-Hicks contractions are mostly normal, if I have more than 6 strong ones in an hour I need to come in. I’ve been having them pretty regularly, although my regularly I mean I can count on having them when I walk long distances and/or haven’t been drinking enough water but they never fall into a pattern. And they don’t hurt, they just make my belly really really tight. She also implied I may not make it to 40 weeks if my body is already preparing itself for labor like that.

The rest of the appointment was uneventful but kind of awesome. I actually LOST half a pound since last time, although my belly is bigger and measuring right on target. My blood pressure is excellent, as usual, and the doctor (who I hadn’t seen since before I had Evan) was extremely pleased to hear my first birth had gone well. Also, for the first time in two pregnancies, the receptionist remembered my name and said “Hi Suzanne, I have your chart here” when I checked in. Guys, I’M A REGULAR. Just like I used to be at that one bar, where a guy named Billy worked the door and would let us in free. Only at this bar there’s no alcohol and you’re much more likely to see someone experience the consequences of a drunk hook-up than the hook-up itself.

Now I have 2 more very busy weeks to  go before my 32 week check up when I again think OMG THIS IS ALL HAPPENING TOO FAST.