So I went to work, and it wasn’t that bad, though I did find out that my extraordinarily sympathetic boss is moving back to Korea where she can be a housewife & concentrate on getting pregnant/staying pregnant. I will miss her. And envy her.
But that wasn’t the most fun.
The most fun was realizing that I really was fine. Well, at least as long as I was sitting at home in bed with my feet propped up. Working – even as a librarian – means being up and down, sitting, standing, reaching for books, storming over to holler at obnoxious kids, sitting, standing. That didn’t work out so good for me. Oh god.
So after an afternoon of cramping, I started bleeding a lot – gushing, actually – while trying to find some guy a copy of Oedipus Tyrannus. I got too lightheaded to see anything and basically crawled downstairs so I could get to the restroom without ruining more clothes &/or bringing a shelf of books down on top of me as I collapsed. Made my excuses to the assistant manager, whose response was “go, please go!” and got on the subway & home without much more of an incident. Though I think the clothes just might be ruined after all.
My complacency certainly is.
So I have tomorrow off, and I suppose if I have to, I can call in on Saturday though that will leave my co-workers dangerously short-staffed. Of course, me dashing off in the middle of the day, or passing out and being hauled out of there in an ambulance would also leave them short-staffed, if that’s my main concern. I guess I simply don’t know how to judge “ready to go back.” I mean, I honestly felt fine this morning, and I really really really thought the bleeding was tapering off and would soon be gone entirely. I even went to work wearing just a panty-liner instead of the great big honkin’ sleep-through-the-night-even-when-you’re-bleeding-like-a-pig-at-slaughter pads.
Hah. Serves me right.
So much for all my pride about my suddenly cooperative body. You’d think I’d learn by now not to crow over any-damn-thing. Not two pink lines on a HPT. Not a heartbeat. Not a goddamn 1-day-that-wasn’t-so-bad miscarriage. And the boy is out of town with a daughter again. Where I encouraged him to go, since, hey, I’m fine now. Ugh.
So ok, Fates. I have officially gotten it. Message received. Thanks for the reminder. Yep, I know. No, no plans for anything at all tomorrow. In fact, I’m thinking lying in bed all day with my feet up is gonna be da bomb, ok? Nothing going on here, you can just go pester some other cockeyed fool. Please, in fact. It’s been a long few weeks.