What is wrong with me?
We can't think of a name for this child. At all. TCBIM and I sit there and look at each other and say "I have no idea" and she's due in FOUR freakin' weeks! Four. Which means, really, I could go any day now and the poor kid isn't going to have a name.
I also can't get my head around the fact that she IS going to be here in a few weeks. It doesn't seem real. You'd think, with the pummelling my insides are taking and the absolutely ginormous belly I'm carting around, that I'd be a little more in touch with reality, but no. No concept, really, except to freak out and wonder how I'm going to handle things. But it's an abstract freak out. I can't actually imagine her here.
Which sets off all kinds of lovely thoughts in my brain. I've almost convinced myself that something is going to go terribly wrong right before or during delivery. I don't know why, it's completely irrational, but there you have it. My brain in action. It's a fucked up landscape inside my head and the little yellow happy pills aren't doing their job very well right now. I worry incessantly.
For instance: The Boo is 19.5 months old. She's still taking two long naps a day. She gets up around 6:30 and is back down for a nap by 9 or 9:30. She sleeps for about 2 hours, sometimes longer. Up, play, lunch and back down by 12:30 for another 2.5 - 3 hour nap. She goes to bed for the night around 6:30 or 7 p.m.. This seems like a lot of sleep. I do realize the insanity of thinking my kid sleeps to much, but this is how the diabetes diagnosis started with O. She started taking two naps a day again. She started drinking and peeing a lot (which Boo is doing, although, to be fair, it's freakin' hot here). O had a diaper rash from hell and Boo is getting a bad one right now. She's also not really growing. She's weighed 22 lbs for her last to peds appointments, which seems odd. I did check her blood sugar (because I really am that paranoid) and she was 83 about an hour after eating. I haven't done a fasting yet - probably tomorrow morning. Am I being a worry wort?
The thing that really set off alarm bells in my head was when TCBIM said "God, she sleeps a lot. Is that normal? Do you think we need to ask the doctor?" Bear in mind, this is a man who thinks that slicing off the tip of your finger is no big deal, who wouldn't go to the doctor until dragged there at gun point, who's needed bloodwork done for various and sundry digestive issues (hooo boy. He can drive me out of a room sometimes) but won't get it done. Him asking to call the doctor is like me asking to have Spam for dinner.
How often do children this age sleep? I can't judge by O, since she was in the midst of a pancreas shut down at that age. And I can't remember back that far to remember how much A slept.
I'm going to call the pediatrician anyway, just because I couldn't live with myself if I let it go and it turned out there really was something wrong. But in the meantime, I'll just freak out here.