I feel homicidal, and other sad tales

Sometimes when I go to the pregnancy websites on the Internet it occurs to me that both the people who write them, as well as the people who comment on them, could possibly be helping themselves to the epidural and the laughing gas as they type. Everyone is so freaking happy. I feel elated! I feel overjoyed!

I feel homicidal!

There is NO comfortable sleeping position left. It's like trying to make a crane (machine, not bird) lie down on its back or sideways and get a good night's rest. There's always that something extra sticking up in the air. Also, although I wonder how is this even possible, my maternity clothes don't fit anymore! (!!!!) There should be a law against this. How can the maternity clothes not fit at the point in time when you need them the most. I have this one black Thyme top that still fits, only because it's really really stretchy. Then I have these (non-maternity) pants from Mumbai, where the elastic snapped some weeks ago and those still fit. Apart from that, nothing fits anymore, and by nothing, I mean really really nothing.

Even the Incredible Hulk's pants still fit him when he turns green and rips his shirt and shoes. Where did he get those pants, I'd like to know. They look pretty comfortable too. I just feel like I've been cut in half when I put on anything, skirt, pants, you name it.

Generally and specifically, I'm happy about the baby. I just wish she would make an appearance. We are in Week 40 now, and it is High Time that Madam showed up. Her brother made an early appearance at 36.5 weeks and by the time we reached Week 40, he was practically painting the town red with shopping and house-hunting so she's really missing out on some good stuff here. I mean, a durian cafe just opened right next to my house!

In other news, I finally got my refund for overpayment of hospital bills. I have to remind myself that this is a refund, it's not a windfall, so no need to be so happy. Unfortunately for some complete stranger out there, the hospital also enclosed some other woman's itemised tax invoice for her IVF treatment, which I went through in detail before I realised it was not mine. And then after I realised it was not mine, I really went through that thing with a fine tooth comb. Did you know the groundsheet costs S$16? It's the giant napkin the hospital puts under every pregnant woman's ass so that she doesn't leak fluid onto the hospital bed. It's a PAPER NAPKIN. Also, at one point, they touched her with a pair of powderless gloves. That was S$6.

I'm going to bring a towel and some oven mittens. Also a box of tissues (that costs S$3 or something if you get it from the hospital).