So on Thursday, I made Sarah a cake, put 30 candles on it, and sang to her in our kitchen. I'm the first to admit that it was a lousy cake, lumpy and too sweet. I think I forgot the baking soda. Sarah loved it.
"I'm sorry for being a butthead last night," she said. "I'm sorry for reacting the way I did." We kissed again and that was that. It was a weird feeling, partially because it was our first argument in years in which she had been the irrational one and admitted as much.
Well, it has been a week and a half since I got my cerclage and already I am running into frustration with not being able to the things I am used to. The doctor told me no heavy lifting, no strenuous exercise, and no intercourse.
And she currently holds the ultimate trump card, one she can play as often as she wants. Other people can even play it for her. Only an unmitigated putz would try to overrule it with a softball game.
My first appointment since getting the stitch went really fast. The doctor said that stitches looked good and the cervix was firm. I told him how uncomfortable I have been feeling with the stitch after being on my feet for more than 20 minutes.
I felt the baby move today! I had read and heard so much about gas movements being mistaken for baby movements that I didn't want to get too excited. I couldn't help but think though, that they felt VERY different from gas movements I usually have!
The morning after our shopping spree in Indiana, lo and behold, Sarah woke up with a belly. "It really happened overnight," she said, and excitedly showed me the red marks that circled her midsection like Harry Potter's Voldemorted forehead.
I told him that I feel bad ALL the time, and today it was extra bad. If he really thinks I complain all the time, maybe I should start so he can see the difference! I swear, men are so stupid. He actually said, "When I feel bad I toughen up and don't complain like that."
If the baby does not cooperate, I'm going to be very annoyed. It does have a tendency to be modest -- at both ultrasounds we've had so far, it's been reluctant to show the goods! So Tim and I have come up with a plan for me to eat a cookie 20 minutes before our appointment.
By the time the groundskeepers were removing the rain tarp from the field, we were no longer speaking to each other. I guess these kinds of complex theological problems can't be solved in an afternoon. The important thing was that we were able to openly talk about our differences.