Just a teensy-little pregnancy rant.
It pisses me off to no end that medical providers have exactly 0 idea as to how much all the lab work that they request costs. “Oh, it’s probably covered by your insurance.” No, Miss Barely-Out-Of-Midwife-School-Or-Whatever-It-Is-You-Went-To, our insurance covers jack-shit until we hit that ridiculously high deductible. Oh, and the deductible doesn’t roll over from year to year. Yeah, that’s why I want to put off starting on a lot of the labs until after New Year. Because our savings account ISN’T BLOODY BOTTOMLESS.
And while I’m at it, don’t you DARE make disapproving faces when I say I want an epidural, and not the fashionable, hipster-esque “natural birth”. There’s 0 evidence that agonizing pain during labor builds the fucking character of either myself or the kid.
And speaking of- Kid? I like you already. I really do. You look as cute as an alien on the ultrasound, minus all the teeth. I’m sure you will do your utmost to continue the Waxwinged legacy and try to take over the world at an early age. Or, at least, write a novel or something. That said, I did not appreciate being unable to eat eggs and mushrooms for the first trimester. Or the fact that I’m still finding ice cream unpalatable. Or the thing about pulling shoulder and neck muscles at a rate of 1 a day in the recent few weeks, while I had to lug set-up to and from craft shows. I’m going to assume that you’re orchestrating all of this because you have the husband’s sense of humor, and not because you’re a little insufferable jerk.