18 Week Update

All ye squeamish run away from the following story and picture. You've been warned.

My Mama and youngest brother came to see me on Friday. Mama claimed it was to bring me the crib and rocking chair, but she came bearing only my baby brother, Jason, and his incredibly infected ingrown toenail. I wanted to be a doctor all of my growing up years, so every time anything wound-like happened in my family, the injured party was brought to me. When Daddy had five brown recluse bites at once, I drained,packed, and doctored them all. When Mama had MRSA, I lanced and packed that bad boy. 

You get the point.

Jason's toenail had fallen off a couple of months ago, and in growing back it had become ingrown. This is very common. Lord knows I had my fair share of god-awful, nausea inducing ingrown toenails as a child. I think everyone did. The difference between Jason and I is that I had the pain tolerance of a gladiator, even as a 12-year-old. He has the pain tolerance of a newborn. You poke him and he cries.

He hadn't let anyone touch his foot. 

I saw the infection, and asked him about it.  I asked if he would let me fix it. He looked at Mama all scared-like, and she said the words I'd heard her say to my Daddy and my brother Jack a million times, "If you let anyone fix it, it should be Sister. She's good. You know that next to me she loves you more than anyone else in the world does."I should have known when that made me cry I was not in the emotional state necessary to do this.

I have never seen an infection like this one before. I literally had to cut the infection (which was the size of a pea) out of his toe. He took the first cut like a trooper. He started to falter when I got the first chunk of infected goop out. We took an advil and foot soaking break, and then it got bad. Emotionally.

My next step was to pry the nail out and shove cotton underneath his barely grown back nail. I kept telling him the whole time how well he was doing. Knowing my baby brother like I do, I kept saying things like, "I know this hurts. If it didn't hurt they wouldn't torture prisoners of war by shoving things under their nails, and it would definitely never work when they did."

I got the first bit of cotton under his nail and took a break, so he could calm down and soak his foot in the epsom salt some more. The last bit is what killed me. The second I started Mama told him he could cry -- scream, even. And my baby brother did. He cried, and said things like, "It hurts worse than being shot, I know it does." It was heartbreaking

Then I realized that I was the one hurting him. I love Jason like he was my own baby, thanks to the fact that I watched him from the time he was born so Mama could work. As soon as I got the last piece of cotton in, I assured him it would start feeling better in a couple of hours, since the infection was gone and the toenail was lifted away from the skin, and went to my bedroom to cry.

I have done more painful things to people I love just as much in order to help them before, and it had never gotten to me like this did. 

I learned today that I can do it. I had been worrying about being able to punish Little Booger, and doing things like pulling splinters, and fixing ingrown toenails. I had been worried that knowing I was hurting my baby would kill me. I can do it. I hurt Jason more than he'd ever been hurt then, but I know that by Saturday morning his toe was back to normal, and he wouldn't still be limping around like he had been since his nail started growing back and the infection started.

How far along? 18 weeks

Total weight gain: I'm up to 182 this week. This is most likely thanks to the fact that I haven't been sick in two whole weeks. I know, it's a shocker.
Maternity clothes? My wonderful and amazing Mama, and my wonderful and amazing grandparents were lovely enough to help with maternity clothes. Mama got into a bidding war on eBay for a lot of maternity shirts, and my grandparents gave me a check. I've yet to use the check, but I will be soon.
Have you started to show yet: Most of my friends who have children "popped" around the 16-20 week mark, so I was hoping that this week I would cross from "Is she pregnant or is she fat?" into "When are you due?!" Unfortunately, no. Still just look fat. Self-esteem is still very beaten up, as well.
Stretch marks? Praise Jesus, no new ones that I can see. I have been finding spider veins like crazy, though.
Sleep: Sleep is still very fitful. I found a way to position myself on the boppy nursing pillow (which I found for $7) so that I'm on my stomach, but there's no weight on my lower abdomen.
Best moment this week: Little Booger got the hiccups for the first time, which was fun and exciting, until thirty minutes later when I was still being poked every few seconds from the inside.
Miss Anything? I miss having a face for a face, instead of a moon pie with eyes and a mouth.
Movement: Most assuredly. Jacob keeps insisting that it's twins, and with the amount of movement there is I would agree with him, if it weren't terrifying to think about.
Food cravings: No real cravings this week.
Anything making you queasy or sick: Eggs
Gender: We still don't know, but I'm feeling boy. Definitely feeling boy.
Labor Signs: Definitely not.
Symptoms: Headaches, heartburn, acne, spider angiomas, and red spots on the face and neck.
Belly Button in or out? Still very much in.
Wedding rings on or off? On, but some days I feel like it should be off. The swelling is hit or miss.
Happy or Moody most of the time: Moody. Oh so moody. Reference the story time above for proof.
Looking forward to: The gender reveal in a month, and subsequent nursery decorating.