I was in the hospital again last night for contractions. I had some at home that had me making faces, which is how I knew I needed to go get looked at. Of course, as soon as I got to the hospital, they stopped, which is good, but then I felt a little stupid. I know I shouldn't but I did.

I had gone to aqua aerobics, but done a super light workout, but afterwards when I went to the market, I was hunched over in pain in the bread aisle. That went away, seemingly, so I ignored it and went to lie down.

Then I read the mail and just fell apart. We've been struggling so hard about how we are going to make ends meet. If I could just get through the next year, Mike will have a GREAT job and I can try teaching again and probably get a lot of my loans forgiven.

Shortly after this, I started with contractions that had me making "the face." The face is what you make when the contractions are not breathable. Making the face is a good means of judging when I should call the doctor.

I've also called my lawyer and I may go ahead and start bankruptcy proceedings, which may stop all of it for a few months. But that means a lot of stress and strain to get through that year to our whole little family. I also need to make sure they can't attach my disability checks. If they can, we won't ever survive. I would save so much money not working and receiving welfare that it would be worth it to just stay home and not work for the next year.

Mike mentioned that we could probably qualify to get into this low-income housing thing I was in when I met him, but it would mean the baby and us sharing a bedroom, I think, which would suck. I guess we wouldn't die, but it would suck.

The doctor said that if I can get through (31 weeks) and not go into pre-term for real that the morbidity rate changes a lot. I hit 31 weeks tomorrow. I tried not to sob wildly when she said that and said,"That's just 2 more days." Then she said 34 weeks is even better and I cringed again.

40 weeks would be the best though for all of us.

If the stress levels don't change, I don't know how well I'll hold out for any of it. It's sad when everything always affects the baby and I feel like a horrible parent for letting things get to me, but I'm exhausted with all I have to do. I'm not supposed to be rodeo riding through my life right now.

The jewel of everything right now is: I got a hold of the insurance company yesterday. They will cover the $500 deductible if this woman is uninsured and the police report shows her at fault. I got the police report and she's been cited for felony hit and run and for violating vehicle codes. I was not cited and it was not my fault, so worst case scenario : I don't pay anything except a couple dollars a day for tax and licensing for the rental until my car is repaired, which I may be able to recoup later from this woman.

I can't believe it's 5AM and I'm typing this. But I couldn't sleep and my hips ached too much, so here I am.

Later that day....

I talked to the lawyers at the office who garnished my wages and they're going to garnish $25 a month with the understanding that after Mike graduates and gets a real job, I'll pay them more. I also in a fit of personal housekeeping, called the Department of Education and asked about consolidating my other loans. I'm applying to do it because they'll take any money you're able to pay them. At least it would get me out of default, and while that wouldn't do tons to correct my hideous credit rating, it would be a start. Because then all I'd be left with is very old credit card debt to the tune of a few thousand and while it looks bad, it's better than defaulted student loans.

My belly is better. I'm exhausted. I had a doctor's appointment today and as big as my belly has gotten, i.e., I'm losing my very deep inny navel, I haven't gained a pound. Eat your heart out, kids!