30 isn't treating me well

So far, 30 has sucked. There. I said it.

A day or two before my "big day," my throat started hurting. I took my usual course of action: I put on a smile and ignored it. If I deny that I'm actually getting sick, sometimes it will scare off the germs and the cold will go away.

That didn't work.

By Monday, my sore throat graduated into a bit more of a cold. I started getting the runny nose and some of the other perks that come along with a cold.

By Tuesday, I lost most of my voice.

Wednesday was voiceless as well.

Thursday I gave in and decided to go to CVS to buy something...anything from my "approved meds" list the OB office provided me. I hate to take medicine anyway, but I especially don't like to take anything when I'm pregnant. I ended up buying saline nasal spray (uber safe) and Tylenol Cold.

I just didn't feel right about the Tylenol Cold, so I called my OB's office to double-check it. It turns out that there are approximately 109 varieties of Tylenol Cold, and I'd bought one of the ones I shouldn't take.

Tears.

This was my first real breakdown. I didn't feel well and was actively trying to get relief...to no avail.

A friend of mine called Thursday afternoon to ask me a question and to chat. (Side note: she's a doctor.) About three minutes into the conversation she said, "I don't mean to get all doctor on you, but I think it might be time for antibiotics. You sound terrible." I thanked her for her concern and went on my merry little way.

I dozed for a bit during R's naptime on Thursday. When I woke up feeling even more terrible, I texted my friend and asked her if she thought antibiotics would really make a difference. She checked me out, then prescribed a couple of things for me to help kick this thing in the butt.

I finally slept decently well for the first time in three nights.

Friday morning finally brought some relief. I was quick to say I wasn't feeling "better," but that I thought I'd turned the corner and rejoined the land of the living at least.

By Friday night, that changed. my throat started to swell and I got the shakes. This was all too reminiscent of an allergic reaction that I had in high school.

Another call to my doctor friend lead to me stopping all of the prescription meds and Jason heading out to CVS to buy me some Benadryl.

Friday night brought little to no sleep. I think I was honestly afraid I wasn't going to wake up if I allowed myself to sleep.

Saturday was rough. I started a new antibiotic and spent the entire day on the couch. The slightest movement of my head sent me the worst migraine-type headache rush I've ever felt.

So here I am. It's Sunday. We're about a week and a half into this awful sickness. One week and one day into my thirties. And here I sit. In bed. Absent from church. Alone. Sick.

Part of this is terrible because I so rarely get sick. The rest is just truly pathetic, because this killer cold from hell decided to hit me while I'm in my third trimester of pregnancy and my stellar immune system is on vacation...and while my iron is low, my energy is low and I'm also trying to chase a toddler.

Despite all of the complaining, I truly am thanking God every day that He is allowing me to fight off this illness (however slowly and pitifully) before the new baby is born...instead of when or just after she arrives.