So I'm on day 12 of the continuous rib pain ordeal, trying to figure out how to live with these injured intercostal muscles which refuse to heal on account of they keep getting re-injured because I'm on day 12+7 of the most lingering cough in the friggin universe. I'm torn between mocking myself with condolences like, "May this be the worst thing that ever happens to you," because of course real people are really sick or injured for real long periods of time, but at the same time when you're eight months pregnant and all you want to do is be unconscious and instead you're reading blogs at one in the morning because you're in too much pain to lie flat and sleep, because you have to sleep on your side for the sake of the baby but both sides feel like they just came through a meat grinder because you had a 30 minute lag in the effectiveness of your children's cough medicine and you know tomorrow will be another day where you cringe at the thought of walking downstairs to the basement and picking up the laundry and putting it into the washer, because all of those things hurt like they're punishment in Singapore, but at the same time you've already put it off for three days because you thought you were slowly getting better, but then three coughs and you're back at square one with no clean underwear.

So if you're the type of person who tells pregnant women "Get all the sleep you can now before the baby comes!" it may be too late to save your soul. That may be the type of sin for which repentance goes unrewarded. On the bright side, if you've ever said that to anyone, but then also at a different time in your life you've actually been pregnant, then you're probably pretty well prepared for hell!