21W2D

The Battle of Zofran continues. I am making progress against this bothersome enemy though. I got four more Zofrans yesterday after not getting any for over a week. The pharmacy tried to fill more than four at my pleading, but when they tried they'd get a "PLAN BENEFITS EXCEEDED" self-destruct alarm. And since I don't have hundreds of extra dollars chilling out at my place lounging around on the sofa watching Star Trek all day, I sadly retreated and dejectedly left with my mere four prisoners of war instead of the thirty to one hundred twenty I keep fantasizing I'll take home soon.

Perhaps because I was emotionally distraught, I accidentally locked my keys into my car and thus out of my apartment AND out of my only transportation device which could get me to work. I at least had the good sense to lock myself out with a gallon of milk, a loaf of French bread, a corn dog, a small handful of potato wedges, and, of course, my four little prisoners of war. I also conveniently had The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes with me as well as my cell phone.

So I cried a little. Desperately called James a few times... called work and told them I wasn't actually going to show up at 1:15 pm as planned... Cried my eyes out some more... Gleefully discovered Kleenex hiding in my purse... And then I ate one of my prisoners with a swig of milk. (Is that against the Geneva convention? I'm guessing it is, but at least I defended the other three from the super hungry cat that tried to eat them. Of course, I did eat them myself later...) Devouring the corn dog and my measly potato fragments also helped. James eventually saved the day and bussed all the way home just to rescue me.

Breaking news! I finally found out what is going on. The insurance company has decided they want a statement from the doctor explaining that I do, in fact, require lots of Zofran. That, and there is a non-negotiable limit on the amount I can get during a thirty-day period. Twenty-four. Jumping jackalopes! That isn't the 30-120 I was fantasizing about. However, it is certainly more than four, so I'll just count my blessings, I guess. ... ... ... I counted. There are twenty-four of these specific breed of blessing.

As for the latest news on the great Naming Conundrum of Baby Alpha, she is still nameless. She does, however, have a nickname. Pterodactyl. James and I were having a giggling fest coming up with absolutely ridiculous names for the baby during a romantic lunch-time walk around the University of Oregon... and Pterodactyl was our favorite. And it's stuck. I do have reservations about officially putting a dinosaur in the first name spot on the birth certificate, but there's nothing wrong with a hearty reptilian nickname.

So far, I've come to the conclusion that I have no idea what to name Pterodactyl, and I almost certainly will not know before she's born. I want to get it "right". Not because the act of truncating and adulterating her given names will bother me (it apparently bothered my dad that I shortened Jennifer to Jenna), but because I simply do not have the unemployed dollars available for a name change in case of a tragic misnaming.

I'm mainly concerned about how her given name will sound in the following contexts: 1) Is it cute enough for an adorable small child? 2) Is it professional enough that no one would have second thoughts accepting college and job applications? 3) Is it attractive enough that some man someday will have fantasies about marrying this woman? 4) Could I see an old lady totally rocking that name?

I am less concerned about what she decides to be called in day-to-day life by family and friends. I don't have a ferocious attachment to names, so I'd imagine that besides the obvious difficulties of retraining myself, I'd be okay if one day she announced that she was going to be called Pteradonna Dilts from that hour forward. I might think she was a little weird, but to be honest, the coolest nicknames are the weird ones. I especially liked the nicknames "Tractor", "Hershey" and "Peach" that some of my high school classmates sported.

The leading candidates establishing apartments in my frontal lobe at the moment are "Abigail Joy", "Emily Jean" (or "Emily Anne"?), "Adella Katherine" (or perhaps "Katherine Adele"), and... yeah. I'm sure there are more to come. I think I'm going to plan on compiling a small list of four to five names and bringing it with me to the birth and then try and figure out if any of them fit. I will seriously need to resist the urge to name her "Purple Bloody Screaming Lizard" based on her appearance. I'm hoping she'll manifest some telltale signs of a particular personality within a day or two that will seriously help me out.

On that note, I am super curious about other people's experiences in discovering their children's personalities. Was it obvious almost immediately, or did it take months to figure out? Please feel free to let me know what your experiences have been in this matter.

Love,
Jenna and Pterodactyl

Edit at 8pm: It's official. The battle of Zofran has ended and I am triumphant! I decided to call around to pharmacies in the area to find out how much I'd have to pay for it out of pocket. Pretty much all the pharmacies everywhere priced a 4 mg tablet at roughly $4 each. And when  I'm daydreaming about 120 of them... oh, my. That is nearly $500. SICK. If the insurance could be persuaded to pay for it, I'd only have to pay $50, but that seems pretty impossible.

And then, there was Costco. They were pricing 8 mg tablets at roughly $0.33 each. Oh my heck. Too good to be true. I made the poor pharmacist swear to me by his spleen seven times that he wasn't lying to me. So I went and got myself 90 of those beautiful babies for a mere $34. I now have enough Zofran to last me an entire month--even if I eat three of those tablets every day. I didn't imagine it could get that good.

I admonish you all to commit the following to memory: "ZOFRAN IS DIRT CHEAP AT COSTCO." It may come in handy during your own pregnancy or during a loved one's pregnancy. Also, remember to say "Thank you for Costco" in your prayers tonight.