Whining into the Blogosphere

I am not much of a whiner. I don’t like myself much when I do whine. However, every now and then, the stars converge and make my world painful and shitty, hence Whiney Rachel. And so on with the whine: It all began before Christmas. I will spare you the gory details. It should suffice to say that if I were a betting woman, I would’ve laid money that I was ……expecting…..in a family way…..knocked up…..Yes, that, if exposed to my HCG tainted blood, the rabbit would indeed die. To many, this would be a joyous thing. To a couple like us, well, not so much. Considering that we took my wonderful, loving husband off to the doctor and had him “fixed” (not to imply that he was broken in anyway) to avoid such a situation. My sweet partner, who had endured neither broken bones nor stitches to that point in his life, willingly underwent “the procedure”. That act itself shows our true commitment to our reproductive decision and our feeling of completeness in the family department. So needless to say, after several days of mild nausea, frequent peeing and a heightened sense of smell, it knocked me to my knees when I got into the shower on Christmas morning and the weak spray of water on my bare chest caused a pain like none other. The Pain of the Pregnant Breasts. That was when I really started to worry. Fast forward to last Tuesday. I was very grateful to see my “time of month” arrive. The weirdness had gradually subsided, and I felt sure that my period would in fact arrive at some point. There was a delightful lack of normal cramping and bloating, so it was a pleasant surprise all around. Saturday came and all was well. I was still bleeding, a bit heavier than normal, but still felt that nothing was amiss. That night while I sat innocently in a chair at my grandmother’s house, minding my own business, a terrible pain invaded my lower back. It was strikingly reminiscent of the lower back pain that used to accompany my period each month before having a child. It is not unusual for me to injure my back. It’s actually something I am sadly quite adept at. However, generally these injuries follow an actual physical movement more strenuous than raising a cup of diet coke to my lips. The pain was coming and going and really freaking me out. Shortly after dinner and birthday cake, we packed up and headed home, stopping along the way at the local CVS for a pregnancy test. The weirdness of my long period and waves of back pain made me wonder if I was experiencing an immaculate miscarriage. Alright, not so immaculate but what are the odds, really? Of course, the test was negative. However, the pain in my back still goes on. And because I am compensating for the pain in my back, my bad knee is being, well, bad. Add to that some muscle strain in my left thigh and I am feeling like I have come out on the wrong end of a drunken bar brawl. Last night I ran a bath hot enough to spread first degree burns over all of the skin I submerged in it. And I came out feeling better than before deliberately burning 60% of my body. A sad statement, no? This morning, I woke up to a hive on my bottom lip, giving a me a somewhat seductive and pouty look. It must be because I am guilty of REM sleep dreaming about consuming one of the many allergens on the “Rachel Must Not Eat” list. I think that should about do it. Ok, I'm off to find some fruit and cheese to have with my whine. . . .