I have been sick this week. It’s that obnoxious flu that just won’t quit, nausea and headaches and total body weakness. I first contracted this flu on Monday and found myself down for the count until Tuesday night. I made a brief recovery and was feeling reasonably better.
Then yesterday came along. It was like Groundhog’s Day, a perfect repeat of my earlier performance. Sick in bed, nauseated, incapable of changing anyone’s diaper or crawling to the kitchen to sprinkle Cheerios on the floor…trouble.
“Hello?” my husband said, answering his work phone with “hurry” behind his voice.
“ahmgunnadahyee..”
“What? Anne? Are you okay?”
“I’m gonna die,” I said, the very act of speaking enough to make my stomach play shake-n-bake. We talked for a moment about my illness and how fast he could get home, and then he finally said those three words I’d been avoiding.
“Are you pregnant?”
“Don’t say that!!” I croaked.
We have four children. Getting said babies here nearly broke me and no way am I going through that again. Besides we’ve got the perfect mix, boy boy girl girl. Our family is nice and modernly large; everyone knows four is the new seven.
After little Gigi came along I took permanent measures to make sure that this body would no longer appeal to cute little parasites–I’m pretty sure my doctor double knotted things just to ensure he wouldn’t have to deal with me ever again.
I called my sister this morning (night to her) and told her about my horrible flu bug that might or might not someday grow up and go to college.
“You know,” she said in her less than comforting way, “It does happen. We all know women who have had their tubes tied and then gotten pregnant. Besides, they say if it’s going to happen it usually happens early on.”
These were not the comforting words I was looking for. What I was counting on was one of those, “Oh, stop it Annie, you’ve just got the flu so go back to bed and call me in the morning.”
So here I sit, feeling nothing short of panic. If this is the flu, I’ve now added anxiety to it and the symptoms are pretty similar–cold sweats, nausea, headaches.
The icing on the cake? I was laying in bed an hour ago and suddenly remembered the most horrible thing. A few weeks back some of my girlfriends and I were playing Kitchen VooDoo where you dangle a needle over your wrist and ask the VooDoo kitchen spirits how many kids you’re going to have and in what particular order.
(I normally do not consider myself VooDoo material nor do I support the black arts in general, unless they involve dark chocolate. From Belgium.)
Over the years I’ve been roped into this game a few times starting when I was about sixteen. It has always been dead on with it’s predictions; four children, boy boy girl girl, stop.
But two weeks ago for the first time ever, the stupid little needle added a kid just to mess with my mind. Apparently it now thinks we’ve got one more child that needs someone to do his laundry.
Could this really be happening to me? Am I actually going to be part of that irritating 1% of women who finds herself face to face with Powers beyond her control?
I guess we’ll just have to wait and see how good God is with knots.
Oh my. Here’s sending flu-vibes your way, rather than baby ones.
Amber and I are Powers(es) beyond your control. Ha. I made a joke. Anniebelle, what you are right now is barfy. If you’re pregnant, you have loads of time to figure that out and make peace with it. If you’ve had a tubal it really is unlikely that this is kid #5. Go to bed, sleep this off, and stop making up reasons to be freaked out. It’s flu til it ain’t!
This is why I hate being a woman. Anytime you are sick, people think you must be pregnant. Hangnail, you clearly have a baby inside your womb.
Flu. You’re body aches. Pregnancy might make you want to toss cookies for nine months, and really really tired and heartburn and ……well, I vote flu. But I get the worry. We’re done too, but I st
(Blasted new computer and keyboard)…I still worry each time I get nauseous.
I’m on board with the flu, too. (This coming from a woman who can talk herself into thinking she’s pregnant if she sneezes funny.)
I vote the flu! (But my vote doesn’t count for a lot. Just ask my kids.)
Just go take a pregnancy test. I am on pins and needles wondering if I am the second oldest of 38 or 39 grandkids. Go, go. Pregnancy test NOW. And report back.
AHH! That cliffhanger was too mean. Too mean I tell you!
I’m in the flu camp too. It’s flu until the little plus sign appears!
Oh man. I feel for you big time, having had quite the horrendous pregnancies myself. It’s a scary thought. But, like everyone else, I’m going with the flu. Voodoo needle or no, flu it is. Hope you feel better soon!