let's make a baby!

we made a baby!

2008-07-12T22:55:00.000-07:00

So much for induction. My water broke at 8am on Monday July 1. I have a huge long birth story, but the short version is it went well. I labored naturally for several hours until the back labor became too much and my blood pressure got too high. Then I agreed to an epidural and was immediately set afloat on a cloud of bliss. Got about 5 hours of sleep, woke in the morning at 10cm dilated and ready to push. But then my contractions started getting weaker and further apart, so I agreed to pitocin to get them going again. Twenty minutes of pushing, and Baby G was born.

We had a severe bout of jaundice that necessitated him returning to the hospital after one night at home. Four days under the UV lights in the NICU brought him back from a deep yellow to a proper baby color. It was so difficult to have to bring him back, to have to leave him there, to not be able to hold him except for when we fed him. But he's home now, back in my arms where he belongs.

I think he's just about the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I can not even describe the wonder of seeing his face for the first time. I recognized him the moment I saw him, as if I'd been waiting for him to come to us. He's all ours, our very own baby head to smell, all the noises and faces he makes just for us. Being a mother is both the hardest and most wonderful thing I have ever done in my life. There's no way to prepare for this. I'm in heaven.

big news x 2

2008-06-30T18:01:00.000-07:00

We are scheduled for induction for 5am on Thursday. I'm excited. I'm terrified. I'm ready.

There's a big difference between knowing you're going to go into labor any time in the next couple of weeks, and knowing it's happening at a specific time.

I wanted to go into labor naturally. I'm going to have to work through the disappointment, but I know we're making the right decision. The placenta is starting to deteriorate, so it's not just a baby size issue, it's a safety issue. I want to go into labor naturally, but I also want a healthy baby. That's top on my list of priorities.

Our nursery is done! Look!

In other news, I just found out that I my claim in a class action lawsuit against the school where I got my second degree has been approved. I will be getting up to my full tuition reimbursed, depending on the number of claimants. There is a set amount of settlement money in escrow, so I will be getting something for sure. The amount just depends on how many ways they have to divide it.

It's been a good day for news!

d minus 7 and counting

2008-06-27T16:18:00.000-07:00

Today the doctor informed me that he wants to deliver this kid in the next week, week and a half. After an internal exam and u/s, he said end of next week. The baby is getting big, already a bit over 7lbs. I'm dilated 2cm, and there are calcium deposits on the placenta. Which isn't a bad thing, just a sign that it's "getting old" as he said. Amniotic fluid looks great, heartrate is great, my BP and b/s are on target. It's just the size of the baby and the calcium that's making the doc eager.

DH is coming with me on Monday's NST appointment. I'm guessing we'll figure out then for sure when we're delivering. Since I'm starting to dilate already, doc says I'm a good candidate for induction. I'm not really thrilled about that, as it will make labor faster and more intense. But much as I'd rather a natural labor process to being induced, I'd prefer being induced to c/s. And I'd prefer all of those options over delivering a ginormous baby, which could result in a c/s anyway, so what's there to lose?

Ultimately, what I want most is a healthy baby. So I'll take whatever helps us acheive that.

full term

2008-06-24T18:30:00.000-07:00

I am officially full term. 37 weeks. My baby could technically be born any time now.

The doctor today measured the baby and laughed as he said, "That is NOT a small baby!" He's already 7lb, as the doc estimates. So much for newborn clothes. Of course I washed them already, because of course I didn't listen to anyone who told me not to, and I'm really okay with that.

We had a great chat about delivery, vaginal vs. c/s, and how I want it to go. Bottom line? He told me, "I am not here to tell you how to deliver. I am here to listen to what you want, and to help you have the delivery you want. My job is to help you have a safe delivery, a healthy baby, and the experience you want." Nice! Can't complain about that!

So, although the kid is already big and full term and all, I'm hoping he hangs on at least another week so we can finish some of the last-minute stuff around here. I think a week should be fine. I had a dream that I delivered on July 9, so if that's the case we should be free and clear.

NST update

2008-06-18T19:03:00.001-07:00

Today's NST went better. Still, the doctor told me to go home and rest, put my feet up, drink lots of cold water. And if Baby G didn't start moving around more, to go to the hospital for closer monitoring.

I told him today was supposed to be my last day of work, but it was no problem if he didn't want me to go, this was more important. He said, "No, you're done. Go home." So I called work and let them know, and went home.

Now, work. The people I work for have been acting strange lately, kind of stinky. But the people I work with have been wonderful (now that I've changed studios). The gal I work with was so disappointed I couldn't come in today, she almost cried. Then she sent me some pictures, and I discovered why she cared so much.

They went all out, coming in early to decorate my desk for me. N-- got the balloons and flowers and made the sign, and J-- had his mom drive out to the valley (as in The Valley, mocked by all in LA and at least an hour and a half from where she lives) to get me this special, diabetic-friendly, sugar-free cake.

After she sent the pictures, I got a call. She wanted to know if she could come over to bring me the goodies. She was so bummed that I wasn't there to get them, and she didn't want to make DH drive out there tonight, so she loaded up her car and drove the cake and flowers to me. She took about 1-1/2 to 2 hours out of her day to make sure I got them.

The people I work for have been on my list, and make me not want to come back at all after maternity leave. The person I used to work with - well, this would never have occured to her. If there was a celebration that it was my last day, it would have been her celebrating me finally being gone. But these guys, them I love. And apparently they love me too. =)

update

2008-06-17T17:10:00.000-07:00

Baby's moving more. He likes the air conditioning. It makes me feel better.

Also, found the kitty. He's sitting on a fence outside our window, "hiding" behind some bushes. He let me pet him, but he's not interested in coming inside. Silly beast.

NST = Not So Terrific

2008-06-17T15:15:00.000-07:00

Baby G was not cooperating at this morning's NST. He seemed to be sleeping the whole time, and didn't respond to the doctor's buzzer that he uses to wake up babies. He hasn't moved much at all today, but he was very active yesterday and today is hot, so that could be it. His heartbeat is strong. For the most part.

There are some strange dips in the heartbeat. I forgot what the doctor called it, but it starts to jump when he does move, and then it dips down lower than it should. The doctor said that it *could* indicate that there's a kink in the chord. He did an u/s and the fluid looks good, but he's still concerned and wants me to come back tomorrow for another test.

I asked him if I should be worried, and he said no, but of course I am. Especially since this little one isn't moving so much today. The doc said that we're at the point now where we could safely deliver - but we're SO not ready yet! His nursery has just been primed, and I'm still working on the crib.

Oh, there's a kick. Yay!

Anyway, tomorrow is supposed to be my last day of work, so I scheduled the NST for early in the morning and called to tell the office I'll be in late. I know they'll be disappointed if I don't make it in at all - not because I skipped out, but because it's my last day, and Thursday is my birthday, and they're going to want to make a fuss.

So this is stressful. Also, one of my kitties seems to have run away. =( DH let him out Sunday and I haven't seen him since. He's usually gone a couple days at a time, so we haven't panicked yet, but I'm getting worried.

I sure hope tomorrow's test goes well. Eager as I am to meet Baby G, I'd rather wait another few weeks.

never as productive as planned

2008-06-16T09:51:00.000-07:00

We didn't get done nearly what I had hoped to get done. I wanted the nursery mostly finished this weekend. We got a good start, but it's far from finished.

My parents came over to help for Father's Day. They didn't get there 'til about 2, though, and then wanted to go to lunch. So we didn't get started 'til about 4. My dad and DH sanded the walls in the nursery where they'd been patched, and got the room primed. My mom and I ran to the fabric store to find material to embellish the valance we were making out of a crib skirt. Originally I wanted to use the curtains that come with the set, but they're too short and it seemed a hassle to make them longer. So we took a crib skirt and cut off the ruffle, added a pocket at the top for the curtain rod, and trimmed with ribbon we found that was the EXACT color of the walls. They turned out great! (And by "we" I mean "she" - mom did all the work, even trimming the skirt so that the dotted pattern lined up just right.) I'll post pics once it's done and up.

As for me, I started my crib-pimping projects. I got one side halfway done. It goes fast, it's easy, but it takes the glue a while to dry. I'm going to get the other side glued up, mark the holes for drilling, and then let DH stain it. Or I'll get a mask and do it outside, depending on how despearate I am to get it done.

I also had a flurry of nesting anxiety and decided that every appliance in my kitchen HAD to be scrubbed, inside and out. It was quite a site, seeing me sitting on the floor with a scrubby brush, scouring the front of my range.

This is my last week of work. I work today and Wednesday, and have dr's appts on Tues and Fri. I'm hoping that having time off work will mean I have time to get stuff done. DH is finishing the painting in the evenings this week. I'm finishing the crib. Then we can put it all together and have a nursery.

sex and the city

2008-06-14T23:40:00.000-07:00

I expected the movie to be fun. Not great, a longer version of a typical episode, fun and entertaining.

I did NOT expect to go from full out belly laughs to crying like a baby over the storyline.

This movie was good - really good. They brought in all the familiar elements, some new twists, and brought it current without any real awkwardness. They even addressed Charlotte's infertility issues again. With class. Again.

********SPOILER ALERT********

I always liked the way they handled that storyline. She hurt, and there was no good reason for it. She tried everything, and went through all her options. One marriage crumbled and another blossomed, and she and her new husband decided to adopt a little girl from China. In the movie, she is a happy mother of three-year-old Lily.

Then, three years after adopting, against any odds, she becomes pregnant. She is fearful of this pregnancy, stops running because she doesn't want to hurt the baby, and just waits for the other shoe to drop. Everyone around her is having problems - relationships falling apart, life not going as planned - and she just can't believe that she actually gets to have everything she ever wanted. Why does she get to be happy? Surely something awful is going to happen to her.

A lot of women don't get to have the happy ending. She had already accepted that her own happy ending was going to look different than she had originally planned. She was a mother, a wife, content to be what she always wanted to be. Now she faced the reality of a dream she'd set aside, and the terror of having it taken from her yet again.

I don't know the details of how this storyline came to be a part of this series. I'm guessing someone on the creative staff went through infertility, because it was written with the grit of someone who knows from the inside what it's like. From her miscarriage to the shots in the ass to the hurt relationship to the final unbelievable joy and terror coexisting until that baby is in her arms, the story portrays the journey so well. Better than most attempts I've seen at this topic, even though still show-bizzed up.

For example, she tells Carrie that she'd always heard that once you stop trying it can happen, that a lot of people adopt and then get pregnant. I do wish this idea hadn't been reinforced - a lot of women adopt and still never get pregnant. A lot of people give up and live child-free. Relaxing, adopting, these are not cures for IF. Yes, sometimes it happens, but when you're in the midst of IF these are not helpful things to hear. Especially from people who haven't been through it, and think that these are answers. But I digress.

I wish there were more good examples out there. More stories to let women know, Hey, this is real. You are not alone, you're not a freak, this is really out there. More stories to let the public know, This is painful. This is not trivial, this is not just an unfortunate disappointment to get over. It's not something to joke about, or take lightly, or brush aside as insignificant.

Anyway, I highly recommend the movie. For many reasons, not just this one. It really was much better than I expected, and I went in expecting to enjoy it.

hotel review

2008-06-13T17:29:00.000-07:00

The rooms are pretty nice, seem to be recently remodelled. Typical clashing hotel rugs/bedspread, but clean and new looking. Fresh paint on the walls, granite countertops in the bathroom, new tile and crown molding. The staff is friendly (though sluggish, see below). The bed is pretty comfy, though it's high and difficult for me to get in and out of. But that's more about me than anything else.

When we got to our room I noticed that the smoke detector was, well, absent. We asked them to have it fixed on our way out to dinner. When we came back two hours later, it was still not there. So we asked again. An hour later, still nothing. And we couldn't seem to call the front desk from our room. So I trudged down there and told them that we'd now asked three times, it was late and I wanted to go to bed, how soon could someone come to fix this? The very nice lady got a hold of the maintenance man while I stood there and sent him on his way. She also fixed the switchboard so that we could reach the desk from our room.

The maintenance guy was hilarious. First of all, he showed up within about five minutes, obviously stoned out of his mind. He looked like Towely from South Park. He hooked up the detector and left, but it started chirping immediately so I caught him in the hallway to come back, it needed a new battery. As I'm telling him this, a cat poked his head over the top of the roof and meowed at me. The guy told me he'd hurry back, he had to take care of something. Apparently it was his cat, on the roof, and he had to get it back inside. Laughing, I came back to the room to tell DH "He'll be back with a 9volt as soon as he gets his cat off the roof." Gotta love it - a stoned maintenance man coaxing a kitty off the roof of a three story motel while a guest bitches at him for a new battery for her smoke alarm.

I was bound and determined to sit in the pool today. Even when I discovered it wasn't heated. It was clean at least, and the feeling of floating was indeed as good as I hoped it would be. But chilly, so I only lasted about a half hour. I need to find a heated pool to float in at some point in these next few weeks.

Our floors are done, we can go home tomorrow. Our kitties are okay, and we get them back tomorrow, all vaccinated and examed and microchipped. We're painting the nursery this weekend, and I can't wait to get that going at long last. Gymboree was having a sale, and I had a coupon for an additional 20% off. I was released from my nutritionist this morning - my blood sugar levels are so good she doesn't need to see me again. My OB is thrilled with that, my BP, and my NST results. I'm rested, clean, and I just had a snack. Overall, there's not much I can complain about at the moment.

busy weekend part deux

2008-06-12T17:05:00.000-07:00

The weekend really started yesterday. Sure, it was Wednesday, and yes I had to work yesterday and today. But as far as the weekend work load goes, it started yesterday.

We are currently having our floors refinished. The room is looking good - fresh, clean, smelling more like wood and less like cat. Tomorrow is the third coat of poly, and we can get back in on Saturday.

I'd mind the interruption a bit more if I didn't have a hotel and a pool to look forward to. I'm at that point (35-1/2 weeks) where floating weightless sounds an awful lot like heaven to me.

So then, Saturday we get back in to the house. We clean and prep the room for painting, pick up the supplies to pimp out the crib, make the house ready to get some serious work done. Dear ol' Dad requested - insisted, actually- that we spend Father's Day working on the nursery. So the whole clan is coming over. Dad and DH will paint the nursery, Mom will help with the crib and window valances, and I have no idea what Sis will do as she's in a full leg brace and can't hardly even walk. I'd put her on folding baby clothes, but I already did that in a fit of nesting.

My *hope* is to have the nursery done by the end of the weekend. My *expectation* is to have it done in the next week or two. Once we get that done, the rest of the house put together, and everything somewhat clean and tidy, I want to hire someone to come in and do a deep cleaning.

Next week is my last week of work. !!! Words can not express how happy I am about this. There's a lot of uncertainty about when/if I will return, my bosses are being odd about it all, but I'm ready to be done and put it all behind me and not think about it for a good long while. I plan on taking ALL the leave I can get, four weeks before and 12 weeks after the birth.

Anyway, that's the plan. It's a big push to get everything done before the Big Push. I'm a bit anxious about getting it all done, but I think it's feasible.

babies rock!

2008-06-10T19:30:00.000-07:00

Like Nirvana, but afraid that it might not be baby-appropriate? How 'bout Tool? Not so much? Think you could get away with Green Day? Too much for your wee one?

Well then have I found the product for you!

Check this out!

You can get them on iTunes, too. I am all over that Coldplay album.

this happens too often

2008-06-05T22:33:00.000-07:00

I am trying hard not to be angry. I'm mostly succeeding, as Sad is taking over.

My cousin who TTC for over six years before conceiving about three months ago - she found out today that her baby has stopped growing, and there is no heartbeat. She should be 12.5 weeks along, the baby is measuring 9 weeks.

She called me in tears, but I didn't answer the phone because I was at work. When I tried to call her back, it took me about half an hour to get a hold of her. Fortunately, she got a hold of her mom and was talking to her.

She was at the appointment alone, her husband had to work. She didn't want me to come meet her, she didn't want to put me out. She also didn't want to tell the family right now, because we have a big wedding coming up on Saturday and she didn't want to bum anyone out. Her words.

I talked her into letting me call my parents, so my dad could call our aunt, who would spread the news. This way, she doesn't have to deal with people thinking she's still pregnant on Saturday, and she doesn't have to drop the bomb on the rest of the family while they're trying to celebrate. I know that no one in the family would have a problem with it, but it made her feel better to let Saturday be about our cousin who's getting married, and not about her loss. I'm more concerned with her getting through the day, assuming she makes it to the wedding at all.

They scheduled a DNC for next Thursday. I find it horrendous that they can't get her in sooner than a week. And my heart just breaks for her and her husband. Six years. She was almost through her first trimester, even though the baby didn't make it much past eight weeks. She still has morning sickness, still feels pregnant.

I wish there was something I could do to help ease her pain. All I can do is be there for her, and let her grieve.

Damn it.

I came home and curled up in bed to listen to my baby's heartbeat on my useless monitor, which has never worked, but today it did. I curled up with a stuffed elephant I bought our baby a couple of days ago, and thanked God that he is still safe, I can feel him moving and squirming around. I feel guilty for being able to enjoy this, that tomorrow I get to go sit in a lounge chair and listen to his heart beat for an hour while the doctor monitors me. I get to see him on the ultrasound as the doctor checks him out. I get to do this twice a week until he's born, and then I get to hold him in my arms and cuddle him close. I have never taken a second of my pregnancy for granted. And today I am reminded yet again just how blessed I am.

But damn it. Why not her, too? I'm not any more deserving than she is. She didn't do anything wrong. She loved that baby from the moment she saw that second line on the pregnancy test. And now she has to start all over again.

Damn damn damn.

tired and grumpy

2008-06-02T10:41:00.000-07:00

Not a good morning. DH snored all night long. Loudly, like he had something to prove. Earplugs proved useless, and they hurt my ears besides, so I am beyond tired today. This morning I tried everything to get him to roll over, blow his nose, do SOMETHING to give me just a few more minutes of sleep. Finally I gave up and got out of bed - I hadn't left the hallway when he stopped. He didn't start again.

I was pissed, and very passive aggressive. I slammed doors, I let my alarm go off for a while before turning it off, I didn't close the bathroom door while I was getting ready. When it was time to leave, I just said "'Kay, bye." I usually go wake him up, give him a kiss, tell him I love him. Today I was just pissed. "Call your doctor. You snored all night." He mumbled something, didn't really respond, which just pissed me off more.

I know it's not his fault, he has no control over it. I snore too, have all my life, and I can't control it. I feel bad when I keep people awake. I don't go on camping trips or retreats because of it. But when I'm not getting any sleep, and what little I can grab is interrupted every hour or two so I can pee, then it just becomes torturous.

I don't know what we're going to do. I want him in bed with me. I want his help when the baby comes, I don't want him in another room. I can't wear ear plugs with a baby, or I won't hear him cry. Someone suggested letting DH sleep in another room with a baby monitor so he can hear if I call him. It's the best suggestion I've had so far, but I still don't like it.

He'd better stay safe today. I was bitchy to him, and slammed the door as I left the house. I hate leaving like that, I worry "What if something happens and that's the last interaction I have with him?"

I'm still tired and grumpy. It's going to be a long day.

coming home

2008-06-01T12:42:00.001-07:00

I am spending way too much time and energy worrying about a Coming Home outfit. Yes, I'm a scrapbooker and want something "picture pretty" for the occasion. But truth be told, he's going to be adorable in whatever he wears, and it will be all good no matter what I pick. Still, I'm obsessing.

I think it's because it gives me something that I feel like I can control. Everything else seems so far out of control. Also, I have so much to do it's overwhelming. This is one little thing I can focus on.

I need to stop. I need to clean and get the nursery ready. What's more important - that he look cute in the perfect outfit, or has a room when he comes home?

swaddle practice

2008-05-28T22:51:00.000-07:00

Last night my kitty was following me around, crying at me, begging for attention. She'd settle down, change her mind and get back up, paw at my leg, meow at me some more, settle back down. Disgruntled kitty.

So I swaddled her.

New Blog

2008-05-28T19:21:00.001-07:00

I am starting a new blog. This one probably won't go away, but it seems to me that the business of making a baby is just about over, and I might want a spot to talk about other things.

Everyday Miracles

You'll see why I called it that when you get there.

nesting

2008-05-26T23:18:00.001-07:00

Today the panic started to set in. I want to have everything ready by 37W, which is less than one month away. Yikes!

I started to line the drawers of our dresser for the nursery, so I could put away baby clothes and such. Then I got distracted because the bottom is falling out of one of the drawers, and I needed a staple gun, and by the time DH got it for me out of the garage less than two minutes later, I had already moved on to washing every single item of clothing, blankets, burp cloths, crib sheets, etc that we own for the baby. That, of course, had to be done right this very minute. I haven't yet finished the dresser.

I've packed and repacked the baby bag for the hospital twice now. I'm sure it will happen again and again. And again.

Is this what nesting feels like?

My sciatica has been acting up all freakin' weekend long. Sciatica sucks. But doesn't it sound like a cool name for a science fiction movie?

It's getting harder to breathe. It's getting harder to walk. It's getting harder to sleep at all, let alone comfortably. I'm loving this! No, really! It means I'm getting closer to seeing this little man in person. =)

firebelly

2008-05-23T23:17:00.000-07:00

I set my stomach on fire last night. =( I was cooking fajitas for dinner when I was hit by a Braxton Hicks. I closed my eyes for a second to take a couple of deep breaths, and my belly felt a bit warm. Thinking I had just bumped up against the pot, I opened my eyes and backed up. But it only got hotter, and when I looked down I saw flames licking up my shirt.

I screamed like a little girl – understandably, I think – and was able to put them out with the spatula (think Mrs. Doubtfire), but not before giving myself second degree burns over my tummy. They’ve blistered, and look a little charred tonight. There's just one little blister, two little welts about an inch long, and one spot on the underside of my belly that is charred, but blends in with the rest of my lovely stretch marks.

I had to throw away the shirt, which was sad because I'm limited on the shirts that fit me right now, and that was one of two that matched my brown pants. Thankfully the damage wasn't worse. Still, it was scary, and I felt like an idiot.

jewelry backup

2008-05-22T10:57:00.000-07:00

I "backed up" DH's ring last night. This is what it looks like:

As you can see, it's pretty unique. I'm thinking of trying to find another one, so that we have a "spare" just in case. There's no markings on the ring to indicate who the designer is, just the metal content (gold and paladium). There's a single diamond flush-set into one of the pieces. Those little straight pieces hold the top and bottom rings together, and the smaller trapezoid shapes shift and slide around.

But now we have pictures, more than just the single shot in our wedding album. Maybe, worst case scenario, we could go to a jeweler and have something like this made. Hopefully the situation will never come up again.

missing rings

2008-05-21T15:23:00.000-07:00

I came home from work last night just exhausted and ready for bed. Every light in the house was on, and DH was nowhere to be found. I heard him poking around in the other room, so I said "Hello!" and went to check my email. After a few minutes I thought it was strange that he hadn't come to see me and kiss me hello yet, so I asked him what he was doing. No answer. I asked him again, still no answer. I poked my head out and said, "What's wrong?" He came slinking into the office, shoulders slumped, hands in his pockets, head down, looking about ready to cry. If he had a tail, it would have been tucked between his legs.

Crap, I thought, someone died. He didn't even make eye contact with me as he said, "I lost my wedding ring."

Backstory. He has a habit of taking his ring off and putting it in his pocket. When he uses the restroom, when he's on the computer, when he's home. He only wears a ring at all because it's a really cool interactive kinetic sort of ring, with floating pieces that move around. I got him a "toy" for a wedding ring on purpose, so he'd wear it at all. He's just not a jewelry person, but he loves this ring.

And I've told him for five years that if he lost it, I would not be a happy camper. It's pretty unique, and it was hard to find five years ago. I couldn't find one like it again, and the designer has stopped making them.

He, of course, was expecting nothing but rage at his announcement that it was gone. Screaming, ranting, possibly an attempt on his life. Especially in my very pregnant and hormonal state. But honestly, it just made me very very sad. I said, "Oh, that sucks," and that was about it. I mean, me yelling at him wouldn't make me feel any better, and it certainly wasn't possible to make him feel any worse. He'd already torn the house apart looking for it, and had dreaded seeing me all day long.

We retraced our steps, and realized it probably happened at our birthing class on Saturday. Our anniversary. I had asked him to take it off for a minute as we were doing an excercise with our hands and it was hurting me. The one time I actually asked him to take it off.

We both hit the internet hard, looking for the same ring. We found similar ones, but nothing that really came close. I ended up breaking down and crying, which broke his heart. I think he'd rather I just yelled at him, but it wasn't in me. I was sad, not angry, and I felt bad for him because he was so sad too.

So I made dinner and we curled up on the couch, me to watch tv and he to continue his search via laptop. He kept saying how much he sucked, and how we should just get him a cheap nothing ring since he couldn't be trusted with a good ring and would probably just lose it again. I finally got up to take a shower and go to bed.

As I was walking by the office, I happened to look down at an ottoman we had piled with junk as we were cleaning up the house. It was dark, and I saw a small circle sitting there. Thinking it was just a keyring or something like that, I picked it up anyway just in case. It was his ring.

I walked back into the family room - I must have had an odd look on my face, because he looked alarmed when he saw me. I just handed it to him.

He made me show him where I found it. And we figured out what happened.

He didn't lose it at the class (obviously), he just couldn't remember having it since then. He had apparently taken it off at home and put it on his nightstand - a dumb move, really, because we have four cats, two of whom think they're raccoons. I can not tell you how many shiny objects we've lost, only to find them later under an area rug. In fact, while tearing the house apart he managed to find a charm I lost a couple of years ago, because I'd left it on the bathroom counter and our raccoon-kitty batted it under the rug. Apparently, the same raccoon-kitty found his ring, thought "Ooh, Shiny!" and decided it must be taken.

We're lucky the cat gets distracted easily. He probably was startled by someone coming in the room, or a piece of dust floating by, and forgot all about the ring as he scuttled back under our bed. And then forgot all about it.

DH was SO relieved! He has never hugged me so tightly as he did when I handed him the ring. He kept thanking me for not killing him, for not screaming at him. Which, let's be honest, I really had every right to do. The screaming bit, anyway. But like I said, it wasn't going to make me feel better, and he could not possibly feel worse.

We're going to photograph the ring, and DH is talking about ways of "backing it up" (yes, he's a geek ;-). At least with photos we'll have something to take into jewelry stores and say "Find/Make us this."

All's well that ends well. And you can bet he didn't take that ring off for the rest of the night.

He did ask me if I was going to blog it. I told him no. He said I should, it was funny. I told him it wasn't funny yet. Today, it's a bit funnier. But he'd still better not take that ring off.

confessions of a labor chicken

2008-05-17T18:45:00.001-07:00

I have a confession to make. I think in some ways, some secret place in my head was hoping that I'd end up with a c-section. The thought of labor and delivery terrifies me. I wouldn't even admit this to myself, but I think it's been there. I've been dreading today's class (Preparing For Childbirth/Lamaze) because I didn't want to hear it. I've been in the room when someone gave birth - twice. The first time it was good for about two years of birth control. The second, I stayed near her head and refused to actually watch. I whimper when I get a braxton hicks, I whine when I'm having a "pregnant day" and things hurt more than usual, I sigh deeply when I have to go up or down a flight of stairs. Despite my tattoo and my piercings, I am a big ol' wimp when it comes to physical pain. I don't like it, and I will do almost anything to make it stop.

Plus today I realized, as I was saying it to DH, I have been in some sort of female-related pain for three years. As soon as I stopped BCP in preparation for TTC, my cysts started acting up again. I went from that to fertility treatments that intensified AF pain to fertility treatments that had their own pain to pregnancy. I'm tired of hurting. I don't want to wrap it up with a bang.

But today we had our class, and it really wasn't bad. The video on c/s scared me more than the video on vaginal birth. The effects of the various medications scared me more than the implications of not taking them. There are more positions for labor and delivery than I ever imagined, and DH is damned good at the backrub thing (we'll work on the coaching of the breathing thing).

And I learned that I am probably not even a candidate for an epidural, because of my blood pressure. I can still consider narcotics, but the epi is pretty likely to be out.

The birth I have witnessed in person was horrible. I sensed it at the time, I know it for fact now. The mother was not allowed any freedom of movement. She was not allowed anything to eat or drink. They rushed her labor, rushed her pushing, the doctor yelled at her to push, and eventually decided he was tired of waiting and wanted to do a c/s. At which point a nurse said "Hell No," crawled on top of my friend, and pushed down on her belly 'til the baby came out. It was violent, and traumatic, and invasive. It was also my only point of reference.

Apparently this hospital does things differently. My L&D room will have a shower, which I am at liberty to use with or without DH. They encourage switching positions for contractions every couple of hours or so. I get to decide what position to push from, based on what feels most comfortable to me at the time. I can have food and drinks, and there is even a little mini kitchen available for DH to get me ice water or heat up a neck pack or get me some juice. The rooms have a rocking chair, they suggest laboring on the toilet, and overall it's just set up to make a laboring mom feel as comfortable as she possibly can under the circumstances.

I walked into class today thinking, "Okay, I changed my mind, I want off this ride now." I expected to walk out of class today more worried and afraid of labor than before. Instead, I find myself thinking, "I can do that." I'm still considering medicinal help, but I'm leaning more towards analgesics and maybe a shot of narcotics. I'm not that upset that I may not even be allowed to have an epidural. I don't really hope for a c/s, as it actually seems like the more difficult of the options, and I really am still looking for the easiest way out of this. Well, maybe not "easiest," but least traumatic.

And I want to hold and nurse my baby as soon as possible, which would be before the cord is even cut if I deliver vaginally. If all goes well, the baby comes out and is immediately placed on my chest, then the cord clamped and cut.

I also learned something else today. I have been worried about DH in the delivery room. He has a very hard time watching people he cares about go through pain. I've been thinking of who I would want to help him help me through labor. He was a champ today, though, and I have full confidence in his ability to help me through this. We are truly having a baby. And now I can hardly wait.

new law in town

2008-05-16T12:58:00.000-07:00

I didn't even realize that the issue of gay marriage was up before the Supreme Court, but apparently it was, and it passed.

I really can't see what the fuss is about. If "they" really want to make a case against this, they really need to come up with some better arguments. The ones I've heard so far are pretty flimsy.

They say it will devalue the meaning of "real" marriage. How? My marriage is in no way affected by anyone else's. The people who have weddings for their dogs, they guy who wanted to marry his car, now THEY devalue the meaning of marriage. Even still, it has no impact on my relationship with DH whatsoever.

They say that it will hurt the children. They say that marriage is for procreation, but what about couples who can't have kids? What about gay couples that adopt? I'd rather see a child go to a loving home with same-sex parents than be shuffled around in foster care from family to family who see her as a paycheck.

Ultimately, though? I see love on one side and hate on the other. Regardless of your beliefs regarding the gay lifestyle, I think we can all agree that love=good and hate=bad. I just can't take sides with an argument that is based on intolerance and hatred and fear.

I'm sure I have more to say about this, but my lunch break is over and it's time to get back to work.

random thoughts

2008-05-15T20:33:00.000-07:00

Maybe I should make Random Thoughts a feature of this blog. They happen often enough these days.

Anyway.

Random Thought 1: I burnt dinner again tonight. I'm too lazy to make something else, so I'm going to pass it off to the husband anyway. Fortunately, he ain't picky.

Random Thought 2: We don't rub our bellies to flaunt anything. We rub them because they are uncomfortable. This isn't a plea for sympathy, just saying.

Random Thought 3: The ceiling fan in our office is causing a strobe light effect with the can lights, and it's giving me a headache. I haven't had many headaches since becoming pregnant. I used to get migraines on a monthly basis. I'm not looking forward to their return.

Random Thought 4: I've been a part of Neilson TV Ratings for the past two years. Yesterday they wanted to start me on a new program that would include having my computer usage monitored. They weren't very up-front about what was being monitored, said it was just what sites we visit on the internet. But upon reading the Privacy Policy, I realized that they monitor EVERYTHING I do, EVERYTHING that is on my computer, every program, every document, every file, EVERYTHING. I called them tonight to say No Thank You, and my rep seemed offended. Sorry, toots, but it's way too 1984 for my taste. Don't need Big Brother watching over my shoulder.

Random Thought 5: The timer on the microwave just beeped. Dinner is done. Well done, in fact. Talk to you later!

baby care class

2008-05-13T19:07:00.001-07:00

Okay, I'll admit it. I only took the Baby Care class because it was part of a package deal at our hospital. I know how to change a diaper, how hard can it be to give a baby a bath, and I don't need to worry about baby-proofing just yet, right? Right?

I learned a whole lot last night. Mostly that there's more to diapers than Huggies, there's an art to giving a baby a bath, and half the things I need to baby-proof didn't even occur to me.

I paid attention, took notes, and came home with a sense of "Oh golly, what have we gotten ourselves into?!" But it's all good. I love these classes. The instructor has been informative, giving us a ton of knowledge without being overwhelming or dry.

A couple of things that stood out in my mind. I'll start with the end. She was talking about bottles, nipples, and formula, whether sterilizing everything is necessary, how to preserve formula that's already been mixed. DH tuned her out completely. The man who wasn't sure he even had an opinion about breast feeding less than a month ago turned to me, rolled his eyes, and pulled out his pocket PC to play a video game. I found it endearing, and didn't have the heart to tell him to listen up, you never know what situations we might face as parents.

Earlier in the evening she talked about circumcision and how to care for it after. Now, please let me state very clearly here that I believe that it is possible to hold an opinion - a very strong opinion - and to in no way judge someone who holds the completely opposite opinion. I do not want to start up a debate on circumcision, should you shouldn't you, you must believe what I believe. It is a very personal choice, and I respect any choice you make so long as it is an educated choice.

Having said that, the decision to not have our son circumcised was one of the simplest that DH and I have made. Several months ago I asked him what he thought about it, he asked what the arguments for each side were. I told him, he said "I don't see the need to do it," I said "Me neither," and that was it. It took me longer to type this than it took for us to agree. We took longer to decide on a crib.

So we went into this class already in agreement that we would not be circumcising our son. And when she showed the pictures of the different ways it's done, and how to care for it in while it heals, it solidified my opinion even more. It took every ounce of strength in my body to not run from the room in tears after seeing a picture of a newborn strapped to the table, spread-eagled, beet red and screaming his head off.

I'm sure there was some propaganda going on there. I don't care. I believe that many of the images used in the Pro-Life campaign are chosen specifically for their emotional impact, but that doesn't stop me from disliking the thought of abortion.

My entire body clenched up. My nails dug into the palms of my hands. I had to compose myself before I could trust my voice enough to ask if they'd just do this automatically, or if I'd have to give my consent first. The baby must have sensed a disturbance in the force, because he was kicking like a pro soccer player in there. I'm sure the clenching didn't help.

She turned on the lights and dismissed us for break. I turned to DH and said an emphatic "Hell No!" I told him on the way home that if we hadn't been in agreement about this before, I'd have to pull momma perogative on him. They ask the mom to sign, the baby falls under the mom's insurance, and this mom is just not going for it.

So that was last night. We have two classes left. Saturday is an all-day class on Preparing for Childbirth. I'm scared of that one. The thought of labor and delivery terrifies me. It is Unknown to me, and it gives me fear. I almost - almost - hope that I have a cesarean instead, just to avoid having to go through contractions and pushing. I want drugs, lots of them, and already feel guilty about it. I'm hoping this class will help put me more at ease, but I'm afraid it will only serve as fuel to the fear.

Oh, and Saturday is our five-year anniversary. I guess it's appropos celebrating the biggest event in our lives so far by learning how to get through the biggest event in our lives coming up.

Then we have Becoming a Parent next Monday. I'm not sure what that one is about (besides the obvious), it was part of the package too. I think it's about how to survive the first month of having a newborn at home. I'm sure that, just like the classes we've had so far, it will be informative and full of things we never even thought of.

7/9 a mother

2008-05-12T10:39:00.000-07:00

Some random snippets to give you an idea of how Mother's Day went.

****************
After my mom made some crack about some of our extended family members:

Me: "Could you maybe not rip on the family quite so much?"
Mom: " 'Could I maybe?!' "
Me: "Well, they're my family."
Mom: "They're my family too."
Me: "But I like them, and I don't like it when you put them down."
Mom (looking very unhappy): "Okay, I'll try. But can I still make comments about [name]?"
Me: "Oh, well sure, he's an ass."

****************

Dad: "You're making sure to listen to lots of rock-n-roll while you're pregnant with this kid, right?"
Me: "Oh, of course. He seems to really like The Offspring."
Dad (grinning): "Good! That's good! You gotta get 'em hooked while they're young."

****************

DH: "You want to come to a party for work, to celebrate the end of a project?"
Me: "Do you want me to go?"
Mom: "I'll go! I'll be your date!"
Me: "You are not allowed to date my husband!"
Mom: *pout*

****************

Dad: "Next year YOU get to be the Mom in Mother's Day!"
Mom: "She's technically a mom now."
Dad: "She's 7/9 mom. *Next* year, she'll be a *real* mom."
Sis: "What's seven ninths in fifths?"

****************

Overall it was a successful day. We gave my mom a scrapbook of all our ultrasound pictures, and some from the shower. We also gave her an I Love Grandma bib, and a DVD of our 4D ultrasound set to music. We re-edited it, because the music turned out funky on the one the ultrasound place gave us and I didn't like it much. But edited so that the parts where nothing is happening because I'm rolling over or something, and set to music that we selected at home, it turned out pretty nice and is good for a few tears.

As I told Dad on Friday - it's not Mother's Day unless Mom cries.

warm front moving in

2008-05-09T13:15:00.000-07:00

It's cold and gloomy outside, gray and overcast and in the 60s somewhere. It's been like this all week, we've been using the electric blanket most nights and finally broke down last night and busted out the quilt.

I know it isn't exactly the deep drifts of frozen snow that some states get all get all winter long, but to this SoCal gal, it's *cold*!!!

But you know what? Inside my house right now, there's a warm breeze blowing. It's about 73 degrees, and I'm all toasty warm. My kitties are curled up on the couch, snoozing and purring.

Because, after long last, we have heating and air!!! When we purchased the system, it was running about 100 degrees and I was most looking forward to the "air" part. But today, I'm very grateful for the "heat" part. And I'm looking forward to a comfortable summer being pregnant and then a new mom. I'm looking forward to putting away my space heaters for the winter, and just having a warm and cozy home. I'm really glad I don't have to raise a baby in a house without heat, and it will be nice not to have to escape to the mall or a movie every time the temperature gets unbearable this summer.

That's all. Just wanted to share. =)

GD update

2008-05-06T16:04:00.000-07:00

Let me start by saying that I *heart* my nutritionist! She works directly with the doctor (I'm not sure exactly what kind of doc he is, a pharmaceutical insulin doctor or something like that?). So my appt today was with both of them at the same time. He looked at my numbers, added them all up and averaged them, went through my meter to make sure I had them all. She looked at my food log and asked me how the meal plan was going.

I told the nutritionist that the only problem with the meal plan that I had was actually eating all she told me to eat. Last night, for example, I had a half a chicken salad sandwich on wheat, then snacked on cherries and almonds for the rest of the evening (we had our BF'ing class). I find myself eating smaller meals and more frequent snacks, and she said that's just fine because it seems to be working. I gained a pound, so she knows I'm not starving myself, and as long as I eat AT LEAST six times a day, and drink plenty of water, I'm doing just fine. She's more concerned with me not eating enough than she is about me eating enough.

Bottom line, I'm doing just fine - not only do I NOT need to go back on insulin, but my numbers are so good that they only want me to test my blood sugar three times a day, three days a week. =) So yay! Fewer needles, fewer sticks, less keeping track of every single thing. It's exhausting to write down everything I eat, test before and after each meal, try to remember which finger I used last so I don't get too sore.

Of course I still have to be vigilant, but my numbers are well within normal range and I'm feeling pretty darn good about being able to manage this just with diet. I even get to have fruit and milk again! I snuck a teeny tiny piece of cake at my shower, and it didn't affect me at all. Not that I'm going to be eating cake every day, of course, but it's nice to know my body handled it the one time I let myself indulge.

I can certainly do this!

busy busy bee

2008-05-04T18:39:00.000-07:00

I've got a busy busy week lined up.

MONDAY

7am - asbestos removal people come to remove a pipe in our attic and test our ceiling in our living room
full day of work, 9-5:30
6:30pm - Breast Feeding Class, Part II

TUESDAY

10am - followup with nutritionist, back on insulin?
half day of work, noonish-5:30
6-6:30 - pick up $10 Diaper Champ found on Craig's List

WEDNESDAY

8am - painter comes to start scraping and painting our bathroom
8am - contractors come to start installing air and heat
1:30pm - OB appt, disability starts? (Please oh please oh please...)
4pm - second shot at 4D u/s

THURSDAY

breathe...
Inform work if I'm on disability now, or stop by last night since the u/s is down the street. Today I can call the bosspeople to either tell them I'm out or confirm tomorrow's appt.

FRIDAY

9:15am - therapy
10:30am - meet with bosspeople? Not if on disability...
2:30pm - go to parents' house, set up for cousin's wedding shower
6pm - wedding shower

Sunday is Mother's Day. Monday is our Baby Care class. Next Wednesday we're having our tub reglazed, and can't use it for 72 hours. This is our only place to bathe in the house, so sponge baths it is. Saturday is our anniversary (5 Years!), and we're spending the day at the hospital in a Prep for Childbirth class, which includes pre-registration and a tour of the L&D ward.

After that, things slow down considerably. Another class the next Monday, Becoming A Parent. Hair appt on the following Saturday. I've got a wedding on June 7, Father's Day on the 15th, my birthday on the 19th, and sometime after that (hopefully!) I'll be giving birth to a wonderful, beautiful, perfect baby boy.

So the next couple of weeks are a bit hectic, but hopefully non-stressful. I work with contractors all day long at work, so that's not a problem for me. Just scheduling, which can be tricky when one tast relies on another. At some point we also have to have our floors refinished, the nursery painted, and the furniture assembled. But I'm not concerned about it. Once I'm on disability, I can let my mom come over during the week to help out with that sort of stuff.

And after next week, things slow down quite a bit. Most of our major projects will be done, I'll be off work, and I'm not making plans until about September.

As for now? Dinner, TV, and bed. In that order.

may showers

2008-05-03T22:37:00.000-07:00

We had our shower today - I can not even imagine a single thing that could have been better about it. It was *exactly* what I wanted, and absolutely lovely! BFF threw it for us, and she knows us so well that it was everything we could have hoped for. DH and I talked about it when we got home, and there was not a single thing that we could have changed to make it any better than it already was. The weather was beautiful, the site was gorgeous, everyone felt comfortable and a good time was had by all.

We had a Ducky theme, as when we first started planning we didn't know if we were having a boy or a girl, and since I've been waddling for a while now it seemed appropos. OMG, the ducks at this shindig! I had no idea how many ducky items were out there! She didn't do ducky plates and stuff, she went classier and did bright blue table cloths with yellow plates and adorable centerpieces, carrying through the duck motif through color. The cake was PERFECT, and I was even able to sneak a small piece of it despite the GD, because she ordered me my very own Taco Salad while everyone else had a Party Burrito. Check this out:

I had a great group of people from every aspect of my life there - family, online friends, work friends, IRL friends. It was a great bunch. My mom asked people to decorate squares of fabric to make a quilt out of, and everyone participated. Many of my friends are artists, so we got some really great squares out of it! Even the kids participated, and I think those were some of my favorites.

There were no frilly games or typical shower activities - which was per my request. Just good family fun. There was a bouncey house, and paddle boats, and a train for the kids to ride.

BFF also had people bring a copy of their favorite children's book growing up, so we got a GREAT start to a baby library. This was a perfect idea for us, as I love to read and I can see myself reading to our son all the time. Heck, I might start tonight!

Overall a great success. Everyone was nice, no one was snarky, everyone mingled well, we got a pile of loot, and I felt completely loved, pampered, and spoiled. She even had corsages for me, "Grandma" and "Auntie," and boutiniers for DH and "Grandpa."

Here's a shot of me and DH with the cake. I cropped my family out of it, as I didn't ask their permission to post their pic online. You can see just how happy I am to be pregnant and at my shower after so much waiting. DH looks pretty proud of himself, too. ;-)

pregnancy changes everything

2008-05-02T19:55:00.001-07:00

I am getting sick of women complaining that pregnancy is making them fat, that they're getting bigger, that they miss their old figures.

Maybe it's because I'm a plus-sized woman to begin with. Maybe it's because I've had to actually LOSE weight this pregnancy, due to GD and m/s. Maybe I just don't mind that my body is unrecognizable as mine, because I see it as proof that this baby that was so hard to come by is growing and thriving and my body is FINALLY doing what it was meant to do.

I don't know. But who expects to get pregnant, grow an entire other person inside, and be physically unaffected? It changes EVERYTHING - from my hair and nails, to my shoe size and bra size, to how I walk and whether or not I can get up out of a chair. My entire diet has changed. I have to switch my lower sportier car for my husband's higher SUV this weekend, after barely making it out of my car after going out for a pedicure. I can't pick up things I drop on the floor. I waddle - slowly. I can't remember to watch the clock so I don't burn breakfast. I'm exhausted, and sometimes I'm cranky, and I'm weepy, and I can't even make it through the Ikea circuit anymore.

And you know what? I'm fine with it. This is what's supposed to happen. If I didn't expect everything to change, I wouldn't have tried to get pregnant in the first place.

This is not to say I don't have my days where I'm just completely overwhelmed by all the changes being thrown at me, seemingly at once. And maybe that's where some of these other women are coming from.

I guess I should just be glad that this isn't bothering me, and realize that we all have our trigger points, and have some grace for all of us.

sales pressure

2008-05-02T13:28:00.001-07:00

In my quest to find ways to cut corners and maybe make a little extra cash, I have stumbled upon a little site called inboxdollars.com. It pays me 15 cents just to read emails. I don't have to send them out, I don't have to complete any offers, I don't have to propagate spam. I just have to click on the emails as they come in my inbox, and that's it. Occasionally there will be paid surveys, or shopping offers. For example, I purchased The Entertainment Book through the site, something I wanted anyway, and I got $8 credit for it.

Here's the nice thing - once I reach $30 credit, they send me a check. Cash. Not redeemable for their special catalog of items, but cold hard cash.

Okay, it's not much, and it takes a while to get to $30 when emails are just 15 cents each. But it's more than nothing, so I figure why the hell not? It takes up all of 20 seconds each day, when I'm in my email anyway. I can do as much or as little as I want.

You may notice a new little ad banner on the left of this blog. I happen to get credit for people who join, and a percentage of whatever they make. It doesn't come out of what they make, they'll make all 100%. But if you earn, say, $1 for a survey, I'll get a 10 cent credit for it, because I referred you or you joined through the banner on my site.

Join if you want. Don't if you don't want to. I'm just putting the opportunity out there, you can do with it what you will. =)

pregnancy brain

2008-05-02T12:06:00.000-07:00

I am a good cook. I'm saying this to remind myself as much as to inform you. I can cook, I enjoy cooking, I'm good at it.

But for some reason, dinner last night posed a challenge. I started the sauce for the steak too soon. The steaks cooked faster than I thought they would. I forgot the rice I wanted to use was 30-minute rice, not 12-minute rice, so everything else went on hold while I got that going. I forgot the asparagus, and then burnt it. I ruined the baslamic reduction for the butter sauce, and couldn't even serve the finished product.

My NY Strip Steaks in Herbed Napa Butter Sauce, Brown Rice Medley, and Roasted Asparagus, turned out to be dried out steaks, no sauce, burnt rice, and no asparagus. I tore up some lettuce and spinach so I'd at least get some veggies in there.

Dinner sucked. =( DH was gracious. "It was fine!" he said, but the pitch of his voice at the end of the sentence belied him.

This morning burnt my breakfast - a whole grain english muffin with ham and cheese. How hard is that?!

I blame pregnancy brain.

Doctor - you're FIRED!

2008-05-01T13:51:00.000-07:00

I had my first meeting with a nutritionist today. I am so relieved and happy, I could cry.

My endocrinologist has been unhelpful. Useless. He's told me "Just experiment with different foods, see what they do to your blood sugar levels." When I told him I wasn't really comfortable with that, I'd rather see someone about a meal plan, he said that there really wasn't a way to do it other than experimenting. So I've been experimenting for a month, and my numbers aren't that much better.

My OB was ticked off the last time I saw him, and immediately got me a referral to a GD Nutritionist at the hospital. I saw her today. She told me that they just happened to have pharmaceutical doctors on site, and one of them could probably help me manage my insulin if I was interested. But she didn't want to push me, seeing as how I had an endocrinologist already...
I jumped at it. "I don't want to see my endocrinologist again. I don't even have a followup appointment with him. If you can hook me up, go for it!"

He fit me in immediately. Like, within five minutes. Averaged out my numbers, says I'm not doing as bad as I thought. Said I don't need the insulin right now, he thinks with a REAL diet I can manage this just fine on my own. Told me to stop testing so often, I only need my morning fasting numbers and one hour after FINISHING meals. As opposed to the six times a day the other doctor wanted me to do, and the one hour after starting meals. I'm pregnant, it can take me a while to finish up a meal, so he says that one hour after finishing the meal will give me more consistent and reliable results.

Then I met with the nutritionist again. She gave me a chart, and a schedule, and a list of what I can and can't eat. There is still a LOT of flexibility. I told her that I'd been avoiding milk and fruit, because they tend to raise my numbers too high. I told her it was more difficult for me to give those up than sweets and carbs, that I really missed them. So she scheduled in fruit and milk for me! Every snack has fruit, I get milk twice a day!

My endocrinologist said my morning fasting numbers were too high, so I didn't need an evening snack. She told me that I do, because the protein will help regulate my numbers overnight. She told me about proteins, portion sizes, and how to mix foods to keep my levels even throughout the day.

I have a plan. I have a team of people on my side, actually helping me. I have hope again, and I'm so relieved I could have kissed the doctors today. At one point she mentioned "I know this is hard, and you're probably not used to watching what you eat so strictly..." I cut her off. "Are you serious? I've been BEGGING for this for a month! I can't even begin to tell you how happy I am to have a meal plan, FINALLY!"

They want me to try this diet for a few days, check back in with them on Tuesday to see how it's going. If I can stick to this, and I'm very confident that I can, then no insulin for me! YAY!

BF'ing 101

2008-04-29T11:15:00.000-07:00

We went to Part I of a two part BF'ing class last night at the hospital. Wow! It was GREAT! When we first got there, she asked us to pick a number to rate what we thought of BF'ing. 1 being "I'm not interested at all," 10 being "I don't want to do anything else," and 5 being "I have no opinion one way or the other about it."

I was a 10. DH was a 5.

She spent the class going over the benefits of BF'ing, from financial to physical for mom and baby. She showed us different ways to hold the baby. She talked about some of the most common difficulties that can come up, and how to address them. She dispelled myths and explained in great detail the basic anatomy of it all.

At the end of the class, DH was a 9-10. It didn't bother me that he was a 5 at first, I know it's not something he gives much thought to. But it really made me happy to hear he was on the same page with me. I'm going to need that at 3am when I'm tired and frustrated and in tears and just want to give up. He's ready to throw out the sample formula we got for registering at BRU, so it's not a temptation to us. He's ready to help me get the baby to latch on (she showed us how he could do that, too). He's ready for a nursing baby momma.

We have our second one next week. She'll go over equipment and products with us, where to find lactation consultants, where to find support.

After the class I went to speak to her, because I do have concerns. My body didn't know how to get pregnant by itself. Now that it is, it's not handling all aspects of it well. I have no faith in my hormones to do what they need to do, and I'm concerned. She told me that usually the women who have hormonal challenges to BF'ing are those with PCOS. Which made me sad, but she went on to say, "It just makes it more challenging. If you're one of the few that has a hormonal problem, we'll figure it out." It set my mind at ease.

I've been afraid to say, "Yes, I'm breastfeeding my baby." I've been afraid to set myself up, only to "fail." I've tried to keep myself open to the notion that it will be more difficult than I can imagine, and I imagine it can be pretty difficult. But now, I actually feel like I can do this, and I will do this.

And I'm looking forward to the rest of my baby care classes, too!

damn damn damn

2008-04-28T10:56:00.001-07:00

What's more cruel than a woman getting pregnant through IVF after years of IF, only to lose the baby?

Her getting pregnant a second time through IVF, after a textbook-perfect cycle and with excellent beta results, only to lose the baby again. Possibly an ovary, too.

Damn it! What do you say to someone in that situation? How do you keep believing that God really does have a plan for us? I can't even begin to see the possiblity of any good in this situation at all. My heart is breaking for her, and I'm pissed as hell at whoever decided this was how this should go.

I heart my hospital and OB!

2008-04-27T22:31:00.001-07:00

I have an active baby. So much so that every tech and doctor has told us, "Wow, you're in trouble! This kid is active!!!" My doctor was laughing on Tuesday, because the baby kept kicking the doppler. I feel him move constantly.

Yesterday my parents came to help us with the house, and my mom has been begging for me to let her feel the baby kick. I'm sure she's thinking I'm just being mean, but seriously, I barely felt him move at all yesterday.

That's fine, it comes and goes. He'll have an active day, and then he'll rest the next day.

But today we had our 4D u/s, and he wasn't moving much again. They sent us to get lunch and take a walk, hopefully to wake him up and get him moving. I even had a Diet Coke. But nope, he was just snoozing away. He'd rolled over by the time we got back, but he wanted no part of any of it.

Of course, I started to get nervous. We could see the heartbeat, and he did roll over, so I knew he was okay, but there has been a serious decrease in the amount of fetal movement over the past two days. I didn't want to call my OB, as I've called him a couple times this week already, and I didn't want to ruin his Sunday by being a pest. So I called the hospital instead, and they said to come on in.

As it turns out, there was another couple there who'd already called in the OB, so he was already there. They hooked me up, checked me out, and again everything is fine. The doctor thinks that the baby just didn't like the heat, or it made him sleepy or something.

I had mentioned to the nurse that I didn't call the doctor, I felt like a pest and figured I'd just call the hospital since I knew they were working today anyway. She gave me a big long lecture about how I need to call any time I get nervous or scared, how I should definitely come in ANY time I had a question or concern, that if the doctor didn't expect to give up a Sunday here and there he shouldn't have become an OB. And honestly, the doc wasn't upset at all, was very reassuring. The nurse told me, "We're not going to think you're being silly. And if you happen to catch one of us on a bad day, and you feel like we're just rolling our eyes at you, it doesn't matter. This is your baby, things can go wrong very quickly, and I'd rather you come in here 50 times with nothing wrong than to sit at home the one time something does go wrong." She kept lecturing me for a good five minutes, and I finally told her that I was taking everything she said to heart, because we'd worked too hard and come too far to lose this kid now.

So they sent me home again. Told me to drink a lot of water, take it easy, and to come back at any time if I feel him move less than three times in any hour.

Tonight he's been moving again, after I took a nap, had something to eat, and sat in a cool room.

Of course, right in the middle of a kicking spree, he stopped suddenly as soon as DH put his hand on my tummy. Now DH thinks Baby G just doesn't like him. ;-)

And we go back in a week to try the 4D u/s again. They gave us a free session, since we didn't get any good shots. Oh, other than a very VERY clear shot of his boy parts. There is absolutely no doubt whatsoever, he is all boy!

I love my hospital. I love my doctor. They actually put me in a L&D room, and it is nice! And the nurse spent a bit of extra time with me, keeping up the u/s after the doctor left and talking to me, even though it was a very busy day for them and they were understaffed. I feel comfortable going back for any reason, if I need to, and I'm just so grateful that, if this kid is going to keep scaring me like this, I have a place to go that balances concern and calm in just the right mix.

a successful day all around

2008-04-26T22:19:00.001-07:00

I think I'm doing trekking through Ikea for a while. It's just too much walking anymore.

But, we got our crib! My parents and sister bought it for us, and they're going to help us pimp it out. My dad came over and helped DH patch a mess of holes in our walls left over from when we had our house rewired, including the big holes in our family room ceiling which had insulation hanging out. I picked paint colors for the bathroom and nursery. I cleaned the bathroom and replaced the toilet seat.

I'm exhausted. I pushed myself too far. I will relax for the rest of the weekend.

Oh, tomorrow at noon we're doing our 4D u/s. I wasn't sure I wanted to at first - it seemed kind of like the bride and groom seeing each other before the wedding. But we did that, too, and it turned out to be better than I ever thought it would be. And now I'm really looking forward to this. And I'm really glad that my part consists of laying on a table.

My blood sugar levels stayed low today, too. Right on target, actually, a nice steady range. maybe a bit low from time to time, but nothing soared over the top even when I had fajitas on flour tortillas, corn chips, and all the fixin's.

Overall, a very successful day.

no more melting

2008-04-26T10:32:00.000-07:00

We bought an HVAC system last night. Or, in more common vernacular: Heating, Ventilation, Air Conditioning. Ours also has a powerful air-filtering system, to help with dust, dander, and allergies. It will be installed within the next two weeks.

It's gonna be a great summer! Whee!!!

items one through four

2008-04-24T22:54:00.001-07:00

Lessee, where to start.

Item the First. Diabetes sucks. I cried tonight because I gave in and had a glass of milk with the all-protein-and-veggie dinner I made. I thought it would be safe, with all that chicken and all those dark leafy greens. It was the only part of dinner that I enjoyed. Then DH went into the kitchen to get a bowl of ice cream for himself. I cried. But it wasn't the ice cream, so much, as knowing that the milk I drank was going to make my numbers go too high. Which it did. Why don't I learn? I can give up candy and cake and cookies, but leave a jug of milk in the fridge and I'm drawn to it like a junkie to crack. And I had to buy a watch for the first time in 15 years, one with an alarm to remind me to test my blood sugar one hour after each meal, because I kept forgetting. I had very strict requirements - I wanted a women's watch that was analog (digital watches are just so lazy), with an alarm on it, that wasn't ugly. DH searched and searched, and came up with two options that met all my criteria. I chose the Casio Waveceptor, and replaced the leather band with a metal one. So far, I like it. Just not the fact that I had to buy a watch because of my health, and not for aesthetic reasons.

Item the Second. Spotting sucks, too. The doctor says he's not concerned. It isn't a lot. It comes and goes, and the baby is bouncing like a little gymnist in there all the time. But still, every time I see a tinge of red, my heart skips a beat and I start to think unhappy thoughts. Doc says to stay off my feet, take it easy, and try not to stress. I'm having a hard time with that last one, thanks to GD and work and the spotting. He said if I can't destress in the next two weeks, he's going to put me on disability. I think it might be a good thing. I'm importing a Pregnancy Meditation CD into iTunes right now, and I'm going back to meditating. I hope it helps. But going on leave now is still probably a good idea.

Item the Third. I know I'm supposed to take it easy, but tomorrow is a busy busy day. Contractors in and out all day, giving us bids for various fix-up projects around the house. One contractor is coming to strip the wallpaper in the nursery, which was applied directly to the drywall otherwise I'd take my parents up on their offer to do it for us. He comes at 8, and I'm running all day. But I'm looking forward to getting this stuff moving, and really I don't have to go anywhere or do much else than say "It's open!" when the doorbell rings all day long. Dad is coming over Saturday to help DH patch holes in our walls left over from electricians rewiring our house. Mom is coming to... I'm not sure what she's going to do. Maybe we'll pick paint for the nursery. Maybe I'll just take a nap and let them all figure it out. After all, I'm supposed to take it easy and stay off my feet, right?

Item the Fourth. I also have an endocrinologist appt tomorrow. I'm going to tell him that the class he sent me to was useless. The nurse teaching it even told me it was irrelavent to my situation. I'm going to tell him that I told my OB on him, and he's sending me to another class that will actually help me, a one-on-one deal with a Gestational Diabetes Nutritionist at the hospital. Which the endocrinologist was supposed to have done in the first place. I'm going to tell him that I'm not happy this is taking so long to figure out, I realize it's not a precise science, but there HAS to be a better answer than "Just experiment and see what happens."

I am becoming more and more pregnant every day. I am weepy and irritable and uncomfortable. But you know what? I love being pregnant. It's not just the idea of it, the thought that I'm going to have a baby. I love feeling him move. I love having a doctor who is dedicated to keeping me and my baby safe. I love picking out little bitty socks and hats. I love waddling, believe it or not. I did not love waking up the other night, screaming in pain with what I can only assume was the first of many braxton hicks to come. But I loved knowing that this is all going as it should, and I'm getting near the end. Birth pains and all of that, right? I have never felt more like a woman in my life. And I love that.

I guess that was Item the Fifth. Here's one last thing to leave you with. I'm getting an IKEA crib, and I'm gonna pimp the shit outta it!!! Check it. I'm adding my own flair to it, of course, but this is the inspiration and the general gist. I'm thinking espresso paint, but the rope lights are a very nice touch.

big anger

2008-04-21T22:34:00.000-07:00

I have anger. Big anger.

We need a new president. There is no such thing as too soon.

It took me three gas stations today to find gas. THREE. And I ended up paying $4 a gallon, for the mid-grade stuff.

I am angry at the man who said this war had nothing to do with oil. I am angry with everyone who believed him, and voted for him. I keep seeing that clip of him smirking, laughing at the reporter who told him that gas was headed to $4 a gallon. "Heh, that's news to me! I haven't heard any reports of that!" Really? *I* could have fucking told you that, and I am neither an economist nor an oil expert.

I am angry at the oil companies for taking advantage of the situation. I am angry at the dumbasses who decided to fly planes into the World Trade Center. I am angry at gas stations who gouge us, because they can. One would think that Mobile gets its gas from one source, and could sell it for the same price consistently from station to station. Apparently, one would be wrong.

Three. Fucking. Tries. To get gas. $4 for mid-grade. And I was practically on empty, so I really had little choice.

Won't be happening again. Next time, I start looking at half a tank, and I keep that baby filled up.

And I'm counting down the days 'til a new president steps in. Honestly, I don't even care which one of them it is at this point. Just get this idiot out of the White House. Stat.

random ness

2008-04-18T12:00:00.001-07:00

Random thoughts of the day:

People who are rushing in a hurry look funny. Everything is exaggerated. Wouldn't it actually be faster to move less frantically? It's got to take up time and energy to be so dramatic.

This is going to be a long weekend. Funeral, housewarming party, mad dash to clean and prep the house for contractors next week. I'm actually looking forward to it, though it's going to be exhausting. I'm taking two days off next week to recuperate.

I am an interior designer, but I am notoriously "off" when it comes to choosing paint colors. I've painted my bedroom twice, and I'm still not happy with the color. Same with my family room. I need to choose colors for my bathroom (I'm thinking a light brown) and for the baby's room. What color should I use with this? I want to do white wainscotting along the bottom 2/3 of the room, with the paint for the walls and ceiling. I was thinking the blue color in the set. Would that be too dark? Or okay, considering the amount of white and the fact that one entire wall is window? Oh, the furniture is going to be white and espresso. See this for my inspriation. Basically that, with the bedding linked above and a darker color for the paint.

I am starting to really hate a certain someone. Today the bosslady called, and Designer J told her that Designer N was out sick today (after being out all week for her husband's surgery), and he was just so grateful that I was here all week. He told her this because I told him she gave me grief last night about working today, "Isn't Designer N supposed to be back, why are you working?" Allegedly, I'm supposed to be here part time. Turns out, Designer J never told them he only wanted me here part time, as they told me he did. Turns out, he wants me here every day. Turns out there's just too damn much work here for two people, and he thinks I'm a saint and a half for working so hard and so fast and so competently. I heard this response as part of the phone conversation: "No, she's doing great. Yeah really, everything is fine, she's doing a great job. She's working her butt off. She's awesome. I don't know what we'd do without her." I can only imagine the scepticism with which she asked him how my performance was. She's not the one I'm hating. It's the one who led her to believe I'm an incompetent lazyass who can't do anything right. Designer G. Bitch.

I've decided to start calling this baby inside me Audrey Too, because he's hungry All. The. Time. "FEED ME, SEYMOUR!!!"

God's plan for boys

2008-04-14T23:13:00.000-07:00

Okay, and THEN he goes and does something just too damn cute, like reach out and touch my belly for the first time. He's done it when I've invited him, but he's been mindful of my space. But I just tried on a dress for my shower (because I have to look super-cute, of course), and he apparently liked it. My belly sticks WAY out, and he said he just couldn't resist. "It was there."

Boys. What are we going to do with them? All I know is, God makes them cute so we don't kill them. ;-)

frustration

2008-04-14T22:52:00.000-07:00

Now I'm frustrated. Mildly.

He always waits until I'm ready to get going before he puts the kabash on things. I've been talking for at least a week now about getting contractors in here for bids on plaster work, wallpaper stripping, painting, floor refinishing, tub reglazing, and heating and air installation. Tonight he says to me, after I've made the contacts and just have to call them to set up appointments, "So how are we going to pay for this?" Now he suddenly wants to paint ourselves, get my dad to patch the walls, and then refinance before doing anything else.

He did this when I switched showrooms, too. I talked about my plan for weeks on end, and when it finally happened he said, "We never really discussed this, this is all rather sudden."

I'm getting estimates anyway. We do need to refinance, but he's been dragging his feet on that for months now. He's been spending his time building this music server thingy, instead of actually doing anything on the house. And I'm to blame, too - I haven't done squat to the house either.

But now I'm ready to go. I'm chomping at the bit, I'm hearing the tick-tock of a clock quickly approaching D-Day. And *now* he wants to put the breaks on?

Frustration.

We need to get on the same page. I don't think we're far apart on this, just approaching it from different angles. But we need to snap into alignment here, or nothing is ever going to get done.

faît accompli

2008-04-13T22:36:00.000-07:00

Accomplished this weekend:
Got hair done, finished baby registry*, selected and purchased stroller and baby seat, had a date with DH.

Not accomplished:
Cleaning out the nursery so I can bring in tradespeople to do some work.

It was 102° F today. 102°!!! I'll let you guess what I decided the "F" stood for. As a result, I let DH off the hook of cleaning out the nursery, which is currently our Cat Room. It was just too F-ing hot! So we went to a movie and then dinner instead. Having a date was just as productive.

*If you are in Baby Registry mode, a couple of words of advice: (1) When registering at Babies-R-Us, start the registry in the store and then do any clean up work online. I started it online, and there was a snafu with the registry. Seems about four different registries were melded into one - mine. I spent the better part of the evening deleting items we never said we wanted. And (2) Bring a well-experienced mom with you. The advice you'll get is invaluable. I was spared registering for the gimicky crap that baby stores just want to sell, and I was enlightened on the true use of things I didn't realize I really needed. There are such things as wedding planners - there should be baby planners to help us through this overwhelming maze of product and information.

back to injectibles

2008-04-11T13:27:00.000-07:00

I had my followup appt with the endocrinologist this morning. He was pleasantly surprised with my blood sugar levels over the past week, and I've lost about seven pounds. He said he was impressed with the control I had, and the progress I've made. I haven't met with the nutritionist yet, I have a GD class the next two Monday evenings, and I'm anticipating that my numbers will get even better after that.

Despite my progress, my numbers are still too high, especially in the morning. Since my numbers at lunch and dinner are just fine, there's really no way to control that with diet. And since my ER scare earlier this week, excercise is very limited.

So I'm back to injectibles - this time it's insulin. I'll take one shot before dinner, and one at bed time. They sent me home with two vials and a box full of syringes.

In my head, I know that this is not my fault. I know that I have done and will continue to do everything within my power to control this. My baby comes first, way before my desire for dessert or a glass of milk. I can do the shots - hell, I needed shots to get pregnant in the first place. I'm an old pro at the pinch-and-stick.

But I feel like such a failure. I *know* I'm not, but I *feel* like I am.

I'm so sick of my body failing me. It couldn't get pregnant on its own, needed intervention and help. Now, it's responding to the pregnancy like this. It's all the same issue - PCOS affects blood sugar, or vice versa, and it comes as no surprise that I ended up with GD. I knew that going in. I didn't know it would be this severe. And yes, it's still manageable and not as bad as some, but it's only going to get worse as the pregnancy progresses.

I know I'll be fine. I know the baby will be fine. I know I can do this.

In the waiting room at the doctor's office, a young woman kept shooting me dirty looks. I assume it was an IF issue. I was sitting there, all pregnant and looking at my Baby Bargains book, making notes for my registry. And the room was crowded, the only place to sit was in her line of sight. I wanted to tell her, "Don't judge me, I worked hard for this." But I've been there, and I know how it feels. I wanted to tell her that, just because I'm pregnant, doesn't mean that I'm not still dealing with IF. But she wouldn't have appreciated it, and probably wouldn't have understood.

I'm just so sick of fighting my IF. It's the same issue here, just manifesting itself in a different way. But having a baby was "supposed" to heal this. Instead, IF just finds new and creative ways to keep wounding me. And I know I'll come up against these issues throughout my life, in one form or another. And it still sucks.

barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen...

2008-04-10T18:48:00.000-07:00

Yes, today I was a stereotype.

I am a kitchen designer, and today I spent most of the day without my shoes on. My feet didn't hurt, but I was hot and the cool tile felt good.

This afternoon I noticed that someone had parked behind my car, blocking me in. Our parking lot is way overcrowded. It looks like a used car lot. But we have four spots reserved for the three of us that work here and a client space. I'm so sick of it - I wanted to get out to go get something to eat. So I went to the business next door and asked to speak to someone about the parking. The guy I spoke with was very nice, but then the owner of the company got involved.

Imagine a 6'4", 350lb, hairy smokey man with a beer gut. Rides a motorcycle. He decides to get in my face. "Look, lady, this is a temporary situation." I wasn't having any of that. "No, this happens every day. At least once or twice a week someone is in my spot, or blocks me in." He interrupted me to say, "No, I mean we're leaving in a few months, so it won't be a problem anymore."

That's great, but what am I supposed to do in the mean time? What if I go into labor? What if, like earlier this week, there's an emergency and I need to get out quickly? The first guy said, apologetically, "You have to understand... We have maybe 30, 40 people working over there..." To which I responded, "That is not my problem. MY problem is, I can't get my car out!"

Big Mean Owner Guy got in my face, AGAIN. Smoking. "I'M WAITING FOR THE TRUCK TO MOVE!" Yeah, well, I don't care. And don't try to intimidate me, you jackass. I'm angry, I'm pregnant, and I don't give a flying fuck what you think of me. No, I didn't say all that, I just stared him down and talked louder than him 'til he gave up and walked away.

When I went back into the studio, I heard the two of them out there talking smack about me. Well, Owner Guy was talking smack, the other guy sounded like he just wanted to get back to work. I couldn't care less what he thinks of me. I told him as my parting shot that, if I had to get out in a hurry, I'd either run over his precious motorcycle or just take it. Either way, he wasn't keeping me from going where I needed to go.

Why is it that some people, when confronted with a legitimate complaint, respond in anger? I didn't start the anger cycle, I was very polite and trying to be understanding. Until I got a face full of smoke and jackass.

My coworker, N-- was laughing hysterically at me when I got back. "Were you barefoot the whole time out there?!" Yup. Barefoot, pregnant, and pissed as all get-out. There's a reason it's a stereotype. ;-)

milk connection

2008-04-09T13:14:00.000-07:00

I made a connection just yesterday.

I am a big milk drinker. Love milk, it's my drink-of-choice for dinner. It tastes good, and it helps ease my stomach acid. I have been known to have three or four large glasses of milk with dinner. DH and I go through two gallons of milk every week.

I also have to get up a lot at night to pee. My friend suggested to me to cut down on the amount of milk, and that seemed to help with me having to get up. Other drinks are fine, water doesn't affect me like milk does. But for some reason, lots of milk = lots of potty breaks.

I asked a doctor about this a few years ago, she had no idea why this would be. Said there was no medical reason, but if it seemed to work that way, to roll with it.

Now that I'm following a GD diet, I have dramatically cut down the amount of milk I drink. It wreaks havoc with my blood sugar. I'm still trying to find combinations where it will work, but so far it just isn't happening. And now I'm not having to get up every 1-2 hours to pee at night. Which is a bonus, especially if I have to give up something I love so much. Ice cream, cake, white bread, no big deal. But I'm really sad about the milk.

So I was reading my little booklet on GD, and it says that one of the symptoms of high blood sugar is frequent urination. Click click click. Milk causes my blood sugar to spike. A symptom of high blood sugar is peeing a lot. Therefore, when I drink a lot of milk at night, I have to get up several times.

Well duh. You'd think my nutritionist doctor would have made the connection herself.

fear factor

2008-04-08T19:04:00.000-07:00

This baby of mine gave me quite a scare today. I woke up to cramping and spotting, and *freaked* out. I couldn't get a hold of the doctor because he was in surgery so we hightailed it to the ER.

Everything is fine. I hadn't felt the baby move in a couple of days, but as soon as they found the heartbeat and strapped on the doppler, the kicks started up again. It was a funny sound, kind of a "Ba-da-dum, Ba-da-dum, BAM!" Right on the doppler - it had to be adjusted several times as the baby kicked it off or moved out of range.

My doctor was in surgery at the same hospital, so he came by when he was done to finish up my care. Which was nice, especially when he said he was glad I didn't wait for him and just went in.

They don't know why there's blood. But the placenta looks just fine, the cervix is good, and the baby is moving and doing great. So they told me to rest as much as I can and sent me home. The nurse told me to come back if the bleeding/cramping got worse, or even if I just got scared again. "We'd rather you come in 50 times for no reason, than to sit at home scared because you think we're just going to send you home." That was reassuring, too.

Something really great that came of this whole terrifying experience, though? We got another ultrasound. I got to see my baby again. And the baby was much more cooperative this time - we got the reveal.

We are back on Team Blue. =) I couldn't help myself, when the doctor told me I pumped my fist and said, "Yes!"

Of course, the very best words he said all day were, "The baby looks good, just fine in there." I took the rest of the day off and crashed for a long nap. Fear is exhausting! I'll be back at work tomorrow, since I just sit most of the day and my job is a lot less stressful now that I've transferred to the other showroom. The spotting seems to have stopped, and the cramps are less severe. All in all, everything seems to be okay.

Three Tee

2008-04-07T21:50:00.000-07:00

I've made it to the third trimmester (referred to as 3T in internet shortcut speak).

This has just flown by. I can't believe that I'm already six months along, just a few short weeks from my shower and then from holding my little one in my arms. I can't wait to see my baby's face, smell that baby head, cuddle and coo to my heart's content. What joy!

I will miss the feel of being kicked from the inside, but what a trade-off! I'll take it any day!

end of an era

2008-04-04T23:45:00.001-07:00

As I was writing that last post, DH said, out of the blue, "I'm giving my car away tomorrow."

He has this beat up, rusted out, doesn't-even-run '78 Toyota Celica Hatchback. This car is not in good shape. It's got three clocks and two radios in it - none of which work. The back seat folds down, which is a good thing because that's the only thing propping up the driver's seat. Gas fumes leak up through the floor boards. For a while there, the driver's side door would fly open while in motion, which was especially scary on the freeway. The air doesn't work. You have to prop up the hatchback with a stick. For the past three years, it's been parked in the alley behind the house, and someone tagged it. Finally, we got a letter from the city that we had a set amount of time to remove it from sight, or we'd be fined.

I have hated this car. I've asked him to get rid of it for years. We have two other, operational cars. But. I understand the sentimental significance of this car to him. His First. One of the few happy memories of his family from when he was growing up. One of the very few momentos he has of his childhood. This is the first car DH ever had. He remembers going to buy it brand new with his family. It got him through college, through a move to Portland and back, through job changes and family changes and changes of address. It's been painted, had its plates changed at least three times (from moving out of state and back), and was the only way we could get around when we first started our long-distance relationship and I went to visit him in his neck of the woods.

He is donating it to an animal rescue group. They will come tomorrow morning and tow it away to be sold as scrap. So tonight he cleaned it out.

I think his heart is breaking. I have rarely seen him cry, but tonight when I went to give him a hug I could feel him shaking and hear him sniffing. I asked him if he wanted to keep any part of it, rip off a side mirror or keep one of the plates, some souvenir. I have some pictures from when I submitted it to that show where they take someone's car and pimp it out. I could make him a scrapbook, or a shadow box. He knows that it isn't the car so much as the memories, but that isn't making it any easier to give it up. And he's sad that it will never be driven again.

He used to harbor the thought of fixing it up. But he's not a motorhead by any means, he's a computer geek. And though he could probably pay someone to fix it up for him, there are things he'd rather do with his money. Like build a home theater system. If he was ever going to do something with it, I'd say let's clear out the garage tonight and wheel it in. But he will never do anything with it. And he knows that himself.

I feel so bad for him right now. I can't reach him, can't comfort him, can't help make this better. I'm really glad that I never pushed too hard for him to get rid of it - if I had caused this, I couldn't live with myself. Not that this is in any way about me, but I'm glad that the City is the Bad Guy in this one.

Mostly, though, I wish I knew what to say, how to help him with this. I wish there was some way I could make it easier on him. All I can do is let him mourn, and be there for him.

bitch, moan, grumble

2008-04-04T22:58:00.001-07:00

I feel like I've been doing nothing but complain about things for a few weeks now. I'm starting to get sick of the sound of my own voice, going on and on about things that are bothering me. But things are really bothering me, and maybe if I get it all down in one place I can start to let go of the little stuff so I can deal with the big stuff.

Little Stuff:
People really need to stop touching my belly. Especially when I ask them to stop. Boundaries seems to be a huge issue with some people, and I am always the Bad Guy for trying to lay any of them down. Please don't touch me unless you're invited to. Please don't try to butt in to events that aren't about you. Please don't push me when I say that yes, we do have names picked out, but we aren't sharing them with anyone. I'm going to stop being nice about some of this pretty soon now, and seeing as how I'm just about a week away from the 3T, I think I can get away with some justifiable bitchiness. I am not going to be leaving my baby anywhere, and yes I do plan on breastfeeding and cosleeping for as long as I damn well want. I'm the momma now, it's my turn to make these decisions, and what you think about it is really quite irrelevant.

I'm still waiting to hear about the job that I was supposed to have heard about last Friday. No call. They said they'd call either way. I've left polite emails ("Let me know if there are any questions or concerns I can clear up for you!") and phone calls ("Just touching base, I can't wait to hear from you!"), and nothing. Maybe they're just still interviewing and deciding. Maybe they just don't want me. Or maybe they don't want me yet. I'll tell you, though, the surest way to get me to want something really super badly is to tell me that I can't have it, or to make me wait. DH learned that in regards to the Wii for Christmas last year. "Isn't that cool? Yeah, you can't have one because they're impossible to get..." I never wanted something so badly as I wanted the Wii in that moment.

But I digress.

In the mean time, I am still at this other place. I am very thankful that it has gotten better - I'm in the nicer showroom, the people I work with are wonderful and they like me and they're so understanding of when I don't feel well or have a doctor's appointment. Even this "part time" deal isn't so bad, it gives me time to not feel well or have a doctor's appointment, as well as not straining myself too much by working all day, every day. But it's still not where I want to be. As I told a friend of mine, I'm not happy, but I'm not unhappy, and I'll take that for now.

And, last little thing, I'm sick. I got a cold last week, spent most of last weekend in bed, and it's still not getting better. I think it went from Head Cold to Sinus Infection. The doctor gave me a prescription for antibiotics and told me I could take Tylenol Sinus, as long as it wasn't maximum strength. It's helped a bit, and now I have that scratchy sore throat that indicates that the drippy phase of the sickness is almost gone, and I'll be coughing for the next couple of weeks. Joy.

Big Stuff:
Okay, here's what I need to deal with now. Gestational Diabetes. This is a Very Big Deal. Not that I have it - I expected that. I have PCOS, and had borderline insulin issues before getting pregnant, I'm not in the least bit surprised that GD is an issue for me. What *does* surprise me is the extent to which it is a problem.

My numbers are high. Too high. Probably too high to control through diet and excercise alone. I got my monitor today, and that's not so bad. A little finger stick, a little blood, a cool new electronic gadget to play with... I hate keeping logs, though. And I hate seeing that number so high. I feel like failure, even though it's day one and I haven't been given any guidelines yet.

The doctor told me to watch what I eat. Smart food choices and portion control. I asked him if he had any literature to help me determine what smart choices would be, and what portions should be, and he said that what he had was out of date and he didn't know where to point me. I mentioned that the whole thing sounded similar to the South Beach Diet, and he said yes, go with that for now, and got me a referral to a nutritionist. I'm supposed to be tracking my levels for the next week, but I have no idea when I can get in to see the nutritionist, and I'm flying blind here. Tonight for dinner I had a flank steak with cheese, green beans, and a small portion of brown rice. One hour later, my number was 178, when it was supposed to be below 120. In fact, it hasn't been below 120 all day, except for right before dinner, when I was starving because I took a nap and dinner was late. What I don't get is, it was 128 before lunch, and it was 127 one hour after lunch, and I know that lunch wasn't all "smart choices" (leftover taco salad).

I made the mistake of researching the risks of GD. I don't want to talk about that.

So I talked to someone who went through it, and that made me feel better. I went to a GD support board, and heard all the success stories of women who had it worse than this, and that made me feel better. I made DH tell me it would be okay, and that helped too.

I can do this, I know that. As someone told me, injections and diet, Ha! Big deal! I did that to get pregnant. And at least this time, I *know* there's a prize waiting for me at the end. A beautiful, wonderful, perfect little prize. That alone makes anything I'm going to have to do worth it.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

There. Hopefully I've gotten that out of my system. Because I want to focus on the good things, too. How it feels when this little one kicks me from inside. Finally settling on nursery decor. Buying the diaper bag I wanted at a pretty good price on eBay. Having a wonderful person planning a kick-ass shower for me and DH. Getting to the point where people don't have to ask me if I'm pregnant anymore, they just smile and give me an "Aaah! When are you due?" Little baby treats arriving unexpectedly in the mail. There's a lot of wonder and joy that goes along with this. I don't want to get bogged down in just the negatives.

just

2008-04-01T12:40:00.000-07:00

I've been kicking this around for a while, trying to find the best way to articulate it. Nothing in particular sparked this post, and the examples used below are just examples. Probably true at one point or another, but nothing current.

The online dictionary that I use has 13 different definitions for the word "just." The first several, 1-8, refer to the word in adjective form, and basically mean the same thing. Fair, right, reasonable. Based on what is right and lawful. A just penalty, a just claim, just proportions, that sort of thing. In this form, I quite like the word.

The last five definitions given refer to it in adverb form. A brief preceding time ("I just got here"), exactly or precisely ("That's just what I wanted"), by a narrow margin ("That car just missed me!"), actually ("That is just wonderful!"), and only or merely. It's this last one that bugs me.

When used in this way, the word "just" is a cover-all cop-out that people seem to think excuses all sorts of behavior. "I'm just kidding," or "I'm just upset," or "He's just worried." And while being upset or worried can be justifiable reasons for acting unreasonably, they don't excuse anything and everything said and done.

The worst, though, is when it's used to justify acts or words that would otherwise be inexcusable, and the one saying it knows it.

"Wow, you're getting fat! Oh come on, I'm just kidding." This is just plain mean. No matter what is being said, if you have to follow it with "I'm just kidding," then you probably shouldn't have said it in the first place. It has nothing to do with the other person having a sense of humor, it has to do with using your filters to know what is off limits. I'd be tempted to give the response, "Wow, you're a real bitch! Oh come on, I'm just kidding." I believe it was a comedy special with Ellen where she said "If you're kidding, then we should both be laughing." And I agree.

Here's one that REALLY steams me. "I know you don't want me to bring this up, but I just had to ask you about..." "I know you don't like unannounced guests, but I was in the area and just wanted to say a quick Hello." "I won't bug you about your job, I'm just going to say that you should get a new one." Anything along those lines. Some seem more harmless than others. But it always involves the speaker (a) knowing where a boundary is, and (b) not giving a fuck.

Which is ironic, given the first set of definitions for the word.

I just had to get that off my chest.

playing with baby

2008-03-25T19:13:00.000-07:00

I've been feeling this little one inside me move for a few weeks now. Sporadically, not every day, but it's there. Mostly it feels like gas, or like there's corn popping in my tummy. Kind of like when you're stopped at a light behind one of those shiny black Escalades with too many speakers, and you can't really hear the music so much as feel it "boom boom boom" right in your gut.

Today I was able to play with the baby. *kick* What's this? *poke* What do you think of that? *kick kick* Okay then, *poke poke* and so on. DH came home and saw me on the couch with a bemused look on my face, poking my stomach. "Uh, what are you doing?" I told him to give me his hand, pressed it against my tummy, and told him to wait. *kick*

You should have seen the look on his face. =) This is the first time he's been able to experience something like this. I've been feeling it for weeks, he felt it for the first time tonight.

He waited for more, but our kitty suddenly got very jealous. She crawled up to where he was kneeling in front of me and bit his elbow, then rubbed against his hand and meowed pitifully. Someone wanted attention. The baby was done playing, so that was that.

Because of all we went through to get here, I am still nervous about this pregnancy. Not as intensely nervous as I was in the beginning, but when I don't feel the baby move for a day or so, I think the worst. And of course then I start to convince myself that maybe it WAS just gas.

But DH felt it too. It was repetitive, and today it was moving around.

There's a real live baby in there!

Easter Gripe(s)

2008-03-24T19:49:00.000-07:00

And now that I've gotten the sensitve family drama stuff out of the way, here's my gripe.

Somehow my family has gotten it in their heads that I don't or can't cook. Which is bullshit - I cook just as well as anyone else. Probably better than most of them. But you screw up one batch of something called "Fool Proof Fudge" and you get labelled for life. Never mind that it was in high school, more than 15 years ago.

I do have bad luck. Last year at Christmas (2006) I said, "Hey, let's fry a turkey!" DH decided to marinate it, my dad actually did the frying, and it turned out black. But I'm the one who got the credit for that one, even though all I did was float the suggestion. When I was in charge of frying the turkey the first time we did it, it turned out perfectly.

Anyway, because of this misperception that I can't cook, I am always asked to bring the salad. Sometimes the drinks, too. And the first year I made the mistake of making The Best Damned Salad Ever, just to spite them all. Well, that plan backfired, because now I'm asked, "Can you bring *your* salad?" And all the other cousins have staked their claims on the other holiday side dishes, things I could have fun with, like the sweet potatoes or the green beans or the rolls. I made these really yummy orange cranberry dinner rolls one year, and was told that they prefered those store-bought things instead, so now someone else brings the rolls.

Usually what we do is get a ton of different veggies and acoutrements for the salad, and put together a mini salad bar. Again, just for spite. You want a salad? You got it.

This year I was hot, and tired, and pregnant (which means I was cranky), so I just chopped everything big and threw it together. And you know what? I don't think anyone ate any of it. DH and I ate more of it when we got home than the entire family ate at the dinner.

Granted, there was drama at the dinner. And we do love salad. But still.

One of these days I may comandeer one of the "lesser" holidays, and show them just what I can do. With my luck, though, something will burn and THAT'S what everyone will remember, and talk about for years to come.

That, and three different people touched my belly. I actually told my sister to back off, I said "Don't touch." Her response? "I have to touch. I haven't seen you pregnant, I'm the aunt, I get to touch." Then she did it again!!! I 'bout smacked her upside the head. DH doesn't even touch uninvited. I mean, really, how would she have felt if I'd just grabbed her boob? It would have been about as appropriate as her touching my belly, especially after I asked her not to.

Seriously. What's wrong with people?

Easter Drama

2008-03-24T12:41:00.000-07:00

Well Easter was eventful. Usually it isn't, not for us. My grandmother died about six years ago in April, and her birthday was in April, so we usually celebrated Easter and her birthday at the same time. When she died it just became too sad, and no one had the heart for it anymore. I've been doing Easter with my immediate family, but nothing like we used to do.

This year my aunt called up my dad and said, "It's time we do this again. My house, 4 o'clock, bring potato salad." I was asked to bring a green salad. But that's a different story.

My uncle had some health issues last week - had a tooth pulled, then his diabetes started acting up, and he collapsed in the driveway. He went to the hospital and spent about a week in the ICU because he'd hit his head when he fell. He got home Thursday, and my aunt was bound and determined that we were going to have Easter, come hell or high water. So we came.

I live in SoCal, and I hope I don't thoroughly piss anyone off when I say that it was easily over 90 degrees this weekend. Bright, sunny, and HOT. My aunt and uncle don't have air conditioning in their home, so when it was packed full of people... Well you can imagine just how stuffy it got. DH and I decided to eat out on the porch, where there was a slight breeze and some shade.

My uncle got up to get his food, had a siezure, and collapsed in the hall. My dad and aunt were standing next to him, so my dad grabbed his head and they eased him to the floor. It didn't last long, and he was coherent and talking again within minutes. But he kept saying, "I'm fine, what's going on? I'm just fine, nothing's wrong. Why am I on the floor?" Obviously disoriented, as is to be expected. My mom called 911, the paramedics and firemen came (much to the great excitement of my 3-year-old cousin), and I just stayed out of the way.

My uncle was able to walk out of the house on his own, they strapped him into the wheely-cart-thingy, loaded him up, and took him to the hospital. My aunt rode with him, my mom drove behind in my aunt's car, chicken leg in hand since we hadn't eaten yet. That, too, is another story.

He's fine, apparently. His magnesium was low, and they said it was probably heat stroke. He's staying in the hospital for a few more days.

But it was quite upsetting. My cousin was very upset, came out to the porch after the ambulance left and sat next to me. He had gotten into it with his brother, who I love dearly but is an ass. This cousin of mine is in his 40s and getting married in June, and I didn't say it and he didn't say it but I could tell he was wondering if his dad was going to make it. His brother kept saying, "Eh, people get sick. Big deal. You could get cancer, you never know. All you can do is eat right and live right." Not exactly comforting in that moment.

I asked him if he needed a hug, and he just leaned against me, just about in tears. I hugged him and told him not to talk to his brother for the rest of the day. He was really shook up, especially when he started to find out the degree of disrepair the house was in. His brother lives there with his parents, but (a) there was not a single smoke detector in the house. The brother's defense? "Why do we need one, none of us smokes." (I should mention this is a grown adult.) The firemen gave him one and insisted he take it, and were very clear that they needed to get a few more. And (b) the garbage disposal and half the plumbing in the sink don't work at all. Haven't for years. No one realized before, because my aunt always did the cleanup herself. Little things like that, but they added up to a bit "what the hell?!" moment for my cousin.

So that was my first Easter with the extended family since my Grandmother - the matriarch of the family and my last living grandparent - died.

I was glad to get home.

mini updates

2008-03-19T13:20:00.000-07:00

Went to urgent care the next day, when my headache was so bad that it was making me sick to my stomache. I checked out just fine, the doc told me to go home and go to bed. So I did. I felt much better yesterday, and today I'm mostly just fine. Still have the remnants of a headache, and there's a little scrape on my nose, but otherwise all other signs of my oh-so-traumatic event are gone.

Work is lovely here in the nice showroom. I'm about a block from the beach - which I was before, but it was a block behind me and I can actually see ocean from my window. And I have a window. People here are nice. They're asking me to work more than I was told I would, because they really are busy and like what I do. The head designer handed me a kitchen to design, "See what you can do with this. I'm presenting it Thursday." He liked my work, just wanted to add a detail to the crown molding. I feel appreciated and respected. I forgot that I could feel like that at work.

I have an interview Friday. It's for a commission-only job, but they estimate an earning potential of more than three times what I'm making now. They have tons of leads in my area, and it sounds like I'd be pretty much setting my own schedule and pace. Which could be great when Baby G is here.

I've been cooking and freezing. I didn't manage to do the Once A Month thing, but I've been using recipes from 30 Meals In One Day. I cook whatever's up on the list next, and it's usually a serving size of 8. We use half for dinner and leftovers, I freeze the rest. So far I have a Lasagne, Calico Beans, Cream Cheese Chicken, and Chicken Enchiladas. I figure there's enough frozen for 1-1/2 to 2 weeks. Not a bad start. I'm actually enjoying this, and if I do end up really working part time then I will have more time to cook and store. I feel like the ant, getting ready for winter. Homey. Nesting and that sort of thing. It's nice.

raccoon face

2008-03-16T20:48:00.000-07:00

I managed to give myself two black eyes. 8(

We keep our wine bottles on top of our refrigerator. I didn't realize that my bottle of Grappa had worked its way to the front of the fridge, and when I opened the door it fell and smacked me square on the bridge of my nose with its big glass stopper. I yelped, and then cried, and DH came running to see what was wrong.

I just looked in the mirror, and sure enough, two dark purple smudges are starting to appear beneath my eyes. There's a scrape on my nose, and a huge bump where the bottle smacked me.

My biggest concern? What are people going to think of a pregnant woman walking around with two black eyes? No one buys the "I ran into a door" excuse these days, though basically that's what happened - I was careless and hurt myself. It was stupid, too, that damn bottle has fallen a couple of times already, but I keep putting it back.

It's silly to worry about this sort of thing. Anyone who knows me knows that if DH even thought of lifting a hand to me, I'd tie his balls into a knot and then kick him to the curb. If I let him live at all. Not that he'd even think of such a thing, he's just not wired that way.

My face hurts.

having The Talk

2008-03-11T09:26:00.000-07:00

So boss man called me yesterday to ask me what the implications of my empty desk are. He wasn't upset, more "I know you wanted to talk to me in person, I'd really like you up in the other studio tomorrow, but I noticed your desk was cleaned out and I'm not sure what the implications of that are..." I told him I'd be more than happy to come up here again tomorrow, and I could briefly outline what I wanted to talk about over the phone if he wanted. So I told him that I loved it up here, and it just really made me realize I couldn't return to the other showroom again. He didn't sound surprised at all, and was very sympathetic. I think it will be good for him to have time to think about it, let it be his idea.

The guy who runs the showroom here, J--, overheard the conversation, and told me that he really hopes I can come to work up here. That meant a lot to me. And he and boss man talk all the time, so I wouldn't be surprised if they talk about this tonight. J--'s really liked having me here - having competent help to actually get work done and be in the studio when he's out at jobsites, which is about 70% of the time. He also called boss man over the weekend to tell him that it was really helpful having me here last week, and could I come back this week. So now everyone here wants me here. And Coworker G doesn't want me there. And I want to be here, not there. It's pretty much unanimous.

Boss man tried to make all these excuses for not dealing with this situation sooner - family problems with his parents, his MIL, other stuff with the kids and grandkids, etc etc. I just didn't say anything. He finally said, "Well, those things always happen, and we definitely need to make time to sit down and talk this through with you." I wanted to talk to him alone, without boss lady, because she tends to get defensive and argumentative. But I should have known better than to think they'd do anything separate.

So I'm back up here in the nice showroom, leaving about 3:30 to meet them for coffee around 4:30. Hopefully it will go well, it seemed like he saw this coming and more than anything he's sad that he didn't do anything sooner. So we'll see.

four months

2008-03-09T22:20:00.000-07:00

I hate it when this happens. I had a post all written up, ready to publish. I was just going back, putting in a couple of links, and somehow managed to navigate away from the page. And now the entire entry is gone. I *hate* it when that happens!

OH WAIT! Yes! I forgot Blogger saves drafts! Bless it! Okay, here's the post, complete with links.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-**-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Boss man avoided me all day today. I left him three messages to see if we could meet first thing tomorrow morning, and he finally called back this evening. He's busy tomorrow, but he wants me in the other showroom anyway, so we'll hook up Tuesday. He asked if I wanted to talk about anything over the phone, and I said I'd rather speak face to face. We chatted for a bit about his trip and his parents and how the week went. It will be interesting to see if anyone there notices that my stuff is gone from my desk. I'd actually be surprised if they did. I mean, I had my eyebrow pierced about six months ago, and no one said a word about it. So we'll see.

In other thoughts...

In just under two months, I'm having a baby shower. Just two months after that, I'm having a baby.

I suddenly feel very much not ready for this. We really do need to get cracking, setting up a space for the baby and for all the stuff that tends to accompany the arrival of a baby.

I spent today organizing my office, putting together the new files for my new filing cabinet, cleaning and sorting. It looks like I haven't done a damn thing in here. But my files are pretty and organized and my old ugly filing cabinet is mostly empty. I feel like I've accomplished something huge.

I also did some site-hopping, and ended up on a site for Once A Month Cooking. Fascinating. I love to cook, but I hate my kitchen, so I don't cook as often or as well as I would like. And when this baby comes, I know I will be even less interested in standing over a stove. But DH does everything else around here - laundry, bills, kitty care, dishes. All I do is clean the bathroom (sometimes) and cook (most nights).

Every once in a while I cook up a double batch of whatever's for dinner, and freeze half for use later. I have one of those FoodSaver vacuum sealer things, and that helps a lot. More often than not, though, I use the extra food as leftovers the next night, because of the appeal of not having to cook again.

This OAMC thing, though, intrigues me. The gist is, you plan all your menu for an entire month, shop all at once (using coupons and sales to save money), and then have a Cooking Day. Cook and freeze, and you're set for a month.

I'm going to try this. I want to have a couple months' worth of food stored up by the time Baby G gets here. It would be nice to be able to just defrost and serve, instead of going through the mental excerise of figuring out what's for dinner, seeing what ingredients I need to pick up, and then assembling it all.

I figure I can try the OAMC technique, and then maybe use half the dinners that month and cook half of them fresh. That will still leave me with two weeks' worth of frozen dinners. Or still a month, if those dinners are large enough for leftovers the next night. Then I can do it again the next month, and stock up that way. Less effort from now 'til the baby comes, and food for after.

We'll see how it goes. First I have to clean out the freezer, create a workspace in the kitchen, and figure out the menu. I just got some new software from 30 Meals In One Day that should help with the menu and grocery planning. I've also stumbled upon coupons.com and frugalmom.net. Both are interesting sites for saving money and/or making money.

I'll let you all know how it goes.

breaking up

2008-03-08T20:24:00.000-08:00

I cleaned out my desk today. It only took two trips to the car. I left behind files I don't need, took ones I might need (such as those related to the web site, new technologies, the sort of thing no one there would even think to look in before calling me for answers). I backed up my work to use in a portfolio. Everything is tidy and neat.

It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be, but it was sad and it affected me for the rest of the day. I had a growing sense of melancholy on the way home. And I'm exhausted.

Why am I always fleeing from a bad job situation? If I'm not being laid off because of the market, or fired for some really stupid reason, I'm running away from a horrible situation. Granted, leaving due to stress over a bitchy coworker is nothing compared to removing myself from a place where someone wants to kill me, but still. It's distressing to me that I have never been able to leave a "real" job under happier circumstances. I start off happy. I truly believe in the companies I work for, I believe that THIS one will be different, THIS is a good job. Then I spend some time there, and it all starts to go downhill.

Maybe it's like breaking up, and there's no such thing as a good ending. Maybe I just have to keep looking for The One.

Or maybe I need to lower my standards. Maybe DH is right, and every job will eventually screw me. I just don't want to be quite that cynical.

Redemption, Shawshank or otherwise

2008-03-05T09:52:00.001-08:00

One of the best movies ever made is The Shawshank Redemption. (Don't believe me? Look it up on IMDB.com.) In it, Tim Robbins plays Andy, a man who is wrongly convicted of a crime, and is sent to prison. There, he mets Red, played by Morgan Freeman. One of my favorite movie lines of all time is when they meet, and Andy asks Morgan Freeman's character why they call him Red. "It's because I'm Irish." He delivers the line as if it should have been obvious, but there's a twinkle in his eye that lets you know he's giving his new friend a hard time.

Towards the end of the movie, Red is released from prison on parole. He gets a job at a grocery store, bagging groceries. There is a moment when he flags down his manager to ask if he could have a short break to use the restroom. The manager looks at him and tells him that, if he has to go, just go. He doesn't have to ask for permission.

As Red is narrating this event in his life, he says, "Forty years I been asking permission to piss. I can't squeeze a drop without say-so."

Now, there's a reason why I'm telling you this. For the past eight months, I've been working in an environment where my every move is watched. All of my work is scrutinized, by someone who is never happy unless the work is done how she would do it, when she would do it. I can not make a move - any move - without facing criticism and scorn, even if the move was one I was supposed to make, and was executed perfectly.

For the past three days, I have been working in an environment where I am respected and liked. I am seen as competent, and the work I am given isn't so much as glanced at when I am done. I have the perogative to make decisions, even though this isn't my usual environment and I don't quite know how things are done here. Not once has someone asked me, "What are you working on over there?" If they don't have something they need help on, they assume that I am grown up enough to find something that needs doing.

And yet, I find that I am questioning myself. Did I do that right? Is it okay to tell a client this? Maybe someone should look this over, just in case... Thing is, what I do for a living is as natural to me as going to the bathroom. But because of how I've been treated for the past several months, I started to lose confidence in my ability.

Truth is, I am a damn good designer. I am good at my job, I am good with clients, and I am good with vendors. I know what I'm doing. I'm qualified, certified, and experienced. The only things holding me back from finding better work is the current housing market, and my growing baby belly. But I am valuable, and an asset to any company that is smart enough to bring me on board.

Having experienced an evironment like this, is it any wonder that I am unwilling to go back to "prison?" Now, Red took it even further. Jumped parole, left the country, and spent the rest of his days on a tropical beach with Andy, running boats and living completely free.

gender issues and job woes

2008-03-04T21:23:00.000-08:00

So first of all, my last u/s had added nothing but confusion to the mix. Of course, after I finally bought my first romper in blue, the tech at my very next u/s told me that she's "not at all convinced" it's a boy, and "it looks remarkably like a girl" to her. But she wasn't sure. I'm not sure I buy it - that first tech was pretty darned certain. And girls have been known to be shy. I think DH and I are going to break down and do one of those fancy-schmancy 4D u/s thingies, see if we can get a definite reading.

And now for something completely different.

I am so fed up with my job, I just decided for sure today that I'm not going back. I've spent the past two days working in our second showroom, and it's been absolutely delightful. I'd forgotten how much I love my job, and why I stayed here for so long. I'd forgotten how nice the day can be when passed in the company of people who actually like me, appreciate my work, and speak to me.

But lately, when I go to work at my usual showroom, I wake up with a pit of dread in my tummy. My head hurts, my stomach hurts, my sciatica acts up. I can't sleep, I have a hard time eating, I'm crabby and short tempered and my attitude just plain sucks. I have this continuous internal monologue, snarky and mean, and I'm honestly scared that I'm going pull an Austin Powers and start narrating it out loud.

I know that a lot of this could potentially be chalked up to "she's pregnant, duh!" But consider this - I feel just fine on the weekends. And these past two days, I've had none of these problems. Well, except the sciatica, but on a much lesser scale. And I've had stairs to contend with!

They want me back at "my" showroom on Friday. I'm not going. I'm just flat out not going back. I don't have it in me. I can't do it for them, I can't even do it to placate my husband anymore. He's 'bout the only reason I've been going at all for the past two months. But I physically can not do it anymore.

My plan. I'm going to call in "sick" on Friday. And I'm going to schedule an early morning meeting, preferably before work even starts, on Monday with the boss-man. Boss-lady is optional, I have a feeling I'll get further with just him. And I'm going to cry, and tell him just how miserable I've been. I'm not planning on manufacturing tears, mind you - I'm just going to let him see just how distraught and upset I really am about all of this. I've been crying at home for weeks now, and work is the main cause, so let him deal with a sobbing pregnant woman for a change. DH has done more than his share of that.

I'm going to lay it on the line. He can either transfer me to the other showroom on a permanent basis. Or he can let me go. Because I can't give him the work he needs out of me. My coworker has won. I can not rise above her pettiness and sabotage. I'm too busy using all my energy to keep me and my baby healthy and safe.

I'm going to use my time off on Friday wisely, too. I'm going to call EDD and find out a few things - can I collect unemployment if I quit because I've basically been harassed out of a job, and The Powers That Be haven't done anything about it? I'm pretty sure the answer there is "Hell Yes!" Can I switch to disability when time comes to give birth? Or do I actually have to be employed at the time? And once disability runs out, can I switch back to unemployment? Or am I better off calling my doctor, crying to him and letting him know how stressed I am right now, and asking him to put me on early disability?

Because let's face it, even if the market in my field didn't completely suck right now, and there were jobs aplenty to go around, who is actually going to hire a woman five months pregnant? Yes yes, I know there are laws and all of that. But laws have loopholes, and this one is as simple as "We didn't find you to be a good fit for our company." So really, who's going to hire me at this point? I'm pretty much screwed until (a) this baby comes, and (2) the market changes.

(I'm also taking time on Friday to finalize my claim for this class action lawsuit that might possibly mean I get all my tuition back from when I went back to school a few years ago. That would solve quite a few problems for me as well, including my agreement with DH that I work until my student loans are paid off.)

baby shopping

2008-02-15T19:20:00.000-08:00

At 18W, I finally broke down. It took me a while, and it still made me nervous, but I finally purchased my first item for the baby.

I guess I've been feeling superstitious about it. Like, if I buy something for him, then something horrible will go wrong and I'll be left with this sad momento.

I finally realized, if something does go horribly wrong (God forbid!), I will want a momento. I will pack up a little box of ultrasounds, test strips, journal entries, etc, and keep myself a memory box.

But that isn't why I bought this. I decided, I'm just about halfway there. It's time to let myself relax and enjoy this part of it! I've been really into most of the rest of my pregnancy - maternity clothes, food cravings, using my exhaustion to get out of things I don't want to do. ;-) But in this area, I was just scared.

I purchased the cutest little romper. It's a light blue, more on the green-blue side, but definitely blue. It's a onsie, but shorts, and it has white piping along the collar and sleeves. And in the front, monogrammed just for him, are his initials. Because while we're not sharing the name with everyone at this point, it's common knowledge what his initials will be, as it's a family tradition in DH's family.

It's so cute and tiny! Pulling it out of the box it came in, my heart just got all mushy and I made that "Aw!" sound that mommies make around cute little baby things. I showed DH, and said "He's going to be this little! We're going to get to dress him in this!"

Now that I've bought one thing, I think it will be easier to start getting everything ready for our new arrival.

recuperating

2008-02-06T13:23:00.000-08:00

The husband is home and sleeping. Peacefully. Quietly. It makes me feel better. I took off the rest of the week, probably more for my sake than his. I'd feel better being here with him while he's in this state. And maybe I'm projecting - I know that I always feel comforted and calmer when he's around when I'm sick. Just his presence helps me feel less hopeless, less frantic. And someone needs to sit on him and keep him from getting up and doing stuff around the house. Seriously! He just had surgery! Why is THIS the time to scan in receipts for tax season? It can wait another week.

I had crazy dreams, though. Dreams of hospitals and blood. Dreams of caring for the invalid, and fighting to get prescriptions refilled, and bandaging wounds. Then, I had a dream that I went on a cruise around Africa and had a mad affair with a mysterious man on the boat... Not sure where that one came from. And somehow this cruise around Africa involved passage through the Bering Straight. Dreams. Go figure.

Super Tuesday, indeed

2008-02-05T22:06:00.000-08:00

I voted today. And for the first time in my voting history, I was excited about it. I voted for someone I actually like, someone I admire, instead of the one I disliked less. I even registered with a party so I could vote in this particular election, casting aside my years of "decline to state" in order to have a voice in what is shaping up to be a very interesting election.

My poor husband, who is registered with the opposing party, was too weak from his surgery to make it to the polling place. I offered to go with him and help him, but he's just not up to it. I'm sad, even though we disagree politically. I could live with his candidate as president, and I'm pretty sure he'd be okay with mine.

I have hope for this country again. Even if my candidate doesn't win, we have choices. I face November with curiosity, not with dread. Days like this, it's good to be an American.

surgery sucks

2008-02-04T19:38:00.000-08:00

Today sucked. We got there at 8 for an alleged outpatient surgery. They told me it was outpatient when we got there - I had expected him to spend the night. At 9 they told me that he'd be a couple of hours, and I could visit him in recovery at 11. They gave me a little pager, like they have at restaurants, so I'd know as soon as he was ready for me.

At 1:30 I asked what was going on, and after the guy at the outpatient lobby desk called a few people, I was informed that DH was still in recovery and was being admitted. They took my pager and sent me to the main lobby, told me to check in there and wait for the doctor.

So I checked in at the main lobby, they gave me a number and told me they'd call it as soon as they had any information for me, and I sat down, understandably concerned. Okay, concerned is putting it lightly. I freaked out. I mean, a doctor hadn't even spoken with me at this point, and it was several hours later than they'd said I could expect it to be. But I held it together until a could call a friend to talk me down. By now it was 2:30, and I ventured to get something to eat. Not far, and I checked at the desk before I left and when I came back, a span of five minutes, tops.

At 3:30, I grew worried and upset enough that I went back to the desk. Where they informed me that he'd been sent to his room at 1:30! WTF?! I was so upset, but more interested in getting to him than in tearing someone a new asshole.

Man, he did not look good. He was asleep, sitting up, head cocked to the side and mouth open. Big bandage taped to his nose and an IV in his arm, two black eyes. I was so relieved to see him, I started crying again. Of course that's when he woke up, and I didn't want him to think something had gone wrong so I explained that I had "just" been worried and was glad to see him.

No one seems to know what happened. I talked to the nurse, politely since it wasn't her fault, and told her that someone, somewhere, needed to be told not to keep a pregnant woman waiting for hours while her husband was in surgery. She was very sympathetic, but no one seems to know where the line of communcation failed. My job at that point, however, was not to track down someone to yell at. DH had been asking for me for hours, and I felt just awful for not being there. He thought I'd left. I told him I hadn't set foot outside the hospital, and was checking on him every hour.

So he's staying overnight, as I originally thought. Everything's fine, but they want to give him the good stuff for pain, so they're keeping him on an IV and a morphine drip. He managed to choke down half a jello and a lemon ice, then the morphine hit and he was out. I sat there for a few hours, just glad he was okay and being at peace just being with him.

As for last night, the silence lasted a couple of hours. I was damned if I was going to be the one to break it. He finally got sick of it, came out to the living room where I was standing at the door tyring to get our stupid cat to come inside, and just grabbed me in a hug. Of course I just burst into tears, and we had a good talk. We never fight for long, when we fight at all. But I hate it all the same, and I'm usually ready to make up quickly. I hate being out of communion with him.

Tonight I will go to bed early, exhausted from the day. It's strange how sitting still all day can be so draining. Emotions will do that, every time. I go back early tomorrow to wait in his room to take him home. I'm not waiting for them to tell me when to come back, I'm going back first thing. And if they lose him on me again, I'm tearing the place apart until I find the jackass responsible.

Oh. And the doctor still never made an appearance. I am not impressed.

unhealthy response to fear

2008-02-03T20:38:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow my husband goes into the hospital for surgery. For the very first time in our relationship, I will have to take care of him. And I'm scared.

I'm used to him taking care of me. And as politically incorrect as it may sound, I like being taken care of by my big strong man. I have never seen him incapcitated or out of commission. He's always healthy and on the go.

He will spend tomorrow night in the hospital, and come home Tuesday. It's not the surgery itself that scares me. I've had this particular surgery myself, and though it sucks, it isn't life-threatening and he will be fine. What scares me is seeing him helpless in the hospital bed. Leaving him there for others to look after while I go home to my cozy bed. Seeing him go through the pain that I already know he's going to go through, and being unable to do anything about it.

So what do I do? I pick a fight with him, and now we're not speaking to each other. And when he tried to reach out to me, I told him I wasn't interested in talking to him and just kept reading my book. Then I went and sat in the bathroom and cried. Now I'm in the office typing this while he's in the family room. I'm surprised he hasn't asked me about dinner yet, but I'm not in the mood to be the one to break the silence. I'm afraid I'll only make things worse.

I had every intention of making today a good day for him, since the rest of his week is going to suck. We went to Costco to pick up some foods that will work for him after his surgery. I told him I'd make him anything he wanted for dinner, since it will be his last solid food for a while. I really wanted today to be good.

Instead, I've been a Class A Bitch. Don't get me wrong - my point was valid and it's something we need to work out. And he didn't respond in the best of ways. But today was not the day to deal with this, and the way I handled it was not healthy, and now we're both miserable. Yet somehow I feel like maybe I won't be so scared of tomorrow if I'm pissed off at him.

How twisted is that?

the good and the hard

2008-01-27T11:43:00.000-08:00

I was awake in bed last night, thinking that despite my book knowledge and the wisdom of friends, there are some things that I just never knew about being pregnant. I don't know if "they" told me, and I just didn't listen, or if I just never knew.

Pregnancy hurts. Okay, it may be a no-brainer, and I knew it wouldn't be comfortable, and yes I believed my friends when they had various complaints during their pregnancies. But for some reason, I wasn't expecting *everything* to hurt. My hips, my butt, my feet, my abdomen, my back... It's not severe pain most of the time (round ligaments kill when I cough sometimes, and sciatica is not fun), and it's totally bearable at this point. I just didn't expect it.

Sleep depravation starts long before baby arrives. And it makes you mean. Between the heartburn and the joint pain and the restless legs and having to pee, I'm fortunate if I get three hours in a row every night. Some people call it "practice" for when the baby comes, but wouldn't it make more sense for Mother Nature to let me sleep now, since I'll never ever be able to sleep again once the baby gets here?

The pain of IF does not magically go away. This one is probably the biggest surprise. I thought - and many people told me - that it wouldn't matter anymore once I was pregnant. That *how* I got pregnant, and the months of tears, and the pain of being infertile, would be healed once I was pregnant. Bologna. Yes, pregnancy goes a LONG way towards healing all of that. And maybe once I hold my baby it will heal even more. But I am still bitter over the fact that it took us so long. That it seems to come so easy for others. That conception took place after a catheter of sperm and a sterile examining table, instead of a romantic dinner and candle light. Okay, okay, so it wasn't all romance and candles even at the beginning. But it was an option. And I had no trouble feeling like a woman. It became a struggle and a conscious effort to keep reminding myself that my womanhood was not based on my fertility. And I am still dealing with the ramifications of that, and probably will in one form or another for the rest of my life. Especially if I have daughters who have to deal with this same thing. Or my son, even - science still doesn't know how what causes PCOS affects males. How ironic, to pass infertility down to my children...

I am now one of "them." For the most part, those who know me know what I've gone through to get here, and are able to celebrate with me. But I remember seeing random pregnant women out there, and hurting. I remember hating some of them for no better reason than they were pregnant and I wasn't. I remember the tears streaming down my face as I typed a congratulatory message to someone on the board - genuinely happy for them, heart broken that it still wasn't my turn yet. I remember politely asking someone how it was going, and being subjected to her going on and on and on about how great and wonderful and miraculous it was. Or worse, hearing a long list of complaints, when all I could think to myself was, "I'd change places with you in a heartbeat, you ungrateful woman." And yes, I had my favorites who could complain or gush without end, and I was right there with them, and it didn't bother me. Real friends, those who struggled themselves and somehow, in my mind, "earned" the right to be pregnant. But yes, sometimes I was just being polite. And now... I'm afraid of becoming one of them. In a lot of ways, I already am. I can't help it - I'm out of the TTC club and into the Mommy club. And that's wonderful, and I wouldn't trade it for anything. But I don't want to lose that part of me who understands. Who gets it. Who knows that, when a friend who's TTC just can't deal with talking to me or hanging out with me, it has NOTHING to do with me. It has EVERYTHING to do with just how much a prolonged TTC process can hurt, and take its toll on the strongest of us. But I also don't want to forget that there are those still on the other side who genuinely care about what happens to me, and want to know what's going on. It's a fine line between sharing enough, and sharing too much. And I want to learn how to walk that line, out of respect for those who still are where I was for so long.

You never really feel "safe" in pregnancy. There is no magic cutoff date when everything is guaranteed to go perfectly from then on. I'll read a story of someone who lost her baby at 10 weeks, and when I pass 10 weeks I feel a sense of relief. Until I read about the woman who lost her baby at 16 weeks. And so on. I have had a sense from the beginning that this baby is here to stay. I didn't worry when the doctor kept saying, "Let's not get excited just yet, we have to see what happens..." I knew that this was my baby, and it was here to stay, and God wouldn't let me go through all of that to get to where I am now, only to take it all away from me. Then, I follow a friend through even more invasive measures to get pregnant, with even more at stake, and have to watch her lose her joy just a few days later. And I realize, there are no guarantees. This is precious, and it could be lost at any moment. I still don't believe it will be - I can't let myself believe that. But in a realistic world, it is always a possiblity. So it's hard sometimes to just relax and enjoy it all. The only way I can think to describe it is like someone who lived through the Great Depression. My grandfather survived the Depression, and ended up having quite a bit of money later in life. But he never stopped hoarding essentials, or pinching pennies. He never seemed completely comfortable that those times wouldn't return. He usually seemed to enjoy his life, and was very generous and giving to all of us, but I'd see glimpses of what that time did to him. It left its mark. In a way, that's what this is like.

There are wonderful things I didn't expect, either. How much I'd fall in love with someone who was barely 2" big. How I'd cry the first time I heard the heart beat. How protective I'd become, willing to do anything to protect this little person inside me. The wonder of feeling him move for the first time, the joy of picking out colors and decor for his room, the way I just can't seem to stop smiling whenever I catch a glimpse of myself in profile in a store front window. Despite the aches and pains and issues I'm dealing with, I love being pregnant, and I'll do it again given the chance. What they DID tell me was that it was all worth it, and they were right on that one. Everything is worth it. No question about it. And the good FAR outweighs the difficult. But both the good and the hard make up pregnancy. And that's something I keep learning day by day.

belly o' love

2008-01-25T19:46:00.000-08:00

When I was in college, I had a friend who was large. Everything about him was big - he was tall and wide, he had a big booming voice, his personality was huge, and he had a heart of gold. He also had a big belly, and referred to it as The Belly O' Love. He'd stick it out, rub it, and grin. He not only seemed secure in who he was, what he was doing, and what he looked like, he seemed proud of who he was becoming. He got along with everyone, probably because he got along with himself so well.

Me, well, I've never been one to be proud of my belly. Most of my shopping time has been spent looking for clothes that "hide, disguise, and slenderize." Dark colors. Vertical lines. Certain cuts. Anything to flatter a figure I have never been proud of. (Okay, once, in high school when I was dating a skinny guy and starved myself so I would look good in my prom dress. I liked the way I looked then. But it didn't last - as soon as I let myself eat again, I plumped right back up.)

Today is a different story. I am not only okay with the fact that my tummy is getting larger, I am proud of the fact. I'm still the plus-size woman I have always been. But I can't suck it in anymore, and there's more of it out there now, and I find nothing but joy in that. I wear clothes that accentuate my blossoming form. I walk around with my shoulders back, standing straight - not just because my back hurts and it helps to stand up straight, but because I enjoy the fact that it makes my belly stand out more (and it does help my back, and helps me keep my balance, which is growing more and more precarious). I catch sight of myself in profile in a store window, and instead of cringing with the familiar thought, "Oh geeze, is that *me*?!" I look at it and think, "Oh geeze! That's ME!"

Everything about me is getting bigger, and in a world where small is in, that would ordinarily cause me to stock up on baggy clothes and hide from the general public. But I worked hard for this belly. It truly was a labor o' love. And by gum, I'm going to be proud of it!

don't know why

2008-01-19T13:51:00.001-08:00

Sometimes I just don't have a fucking clue what God is doing. I'm fine, but a friend of mine is in a lot of pain right now, pain that seems like it could have very simply been avoided.

After the heartache and trials of TTC, she finally became pregnant on a last-shot IVF. She's been so thrilled all week. We all celebrated with her. I prayed for this so hard and so long for her, and it was pure joy to see that she made it. But yesterday, her beta was 13 and today the digital test says "not pregnant."

It just seems cruel to me. Why even let her have what she wanted for so long, just to take it away? What possible good can come of this? So what if now she knows she and her husband can get pregnant - she now has to deal with the loss of m/c on top of the pain of TTC, and coming to the end of her options, and feeling like she's running out of time. I still believe she can have a happy ending to this horrible journey of hers, but now she has one more wound to overcome.

I sure hope God knows what He's doing. Because I don't have a fucking clue.

NT test, heartbeat, and more

2008-01-10T22:10:00.000-08:00

Well, we had what the doctor called a "First Trimester Test" today. It was an ultrasound where they took a bunch of measurements, and they did a blood test, to see if there are any genetic anomolies going on. I'm not really worried about it at all - I just wanted to see the baby again. ;-)

So it went well, baby is right on target size-wise. At one point, the doctor turned on the mic and we heard the heartbeat for the very first time! He said, "I'm sorry it's not that great, there's a lot of static..." I just burst into tears and said, "Are you kidding? It's wonderful! It's the first time we've heard it!" Wow. I can't even explain. Just... Wow.

Then he says to us, "So, do you want to know the gender?" He said that "officially" he could only tell us with 80% accuracy, but he got a pretty good shot between the legs and "it's pretty obvious." So, we're having...

...a Baby Boy!

I am so thrilled! I have wanted a boy ever since I can remember. When my accupuncturist told me we were having a girl (based on my pulse, I guess), I was a little sad about it. Not that I wouldn't love a little girl just as much. I was more sad at the thought of NOT having a boy, than of having a girl. And whenever I imagine myself with my kids, I see boys. I always have, ever since I can remember.

So overall it was a great appointment! I have pictures, my computer is still acting wonky, but I *think* I'll be able to put them up this weekend.

What a difference one week makes. I'm suddenly in the 2T. My m/s is all but gone. And I'm starting to need maternity clothes. My mom says that us French women tend to show early - she started showing at about 8 weeks. Most of my shirts will work still, but I have a pair of pants on order and I'm hitting the outlet mall next weekend!

Oh, and this is the first time in I-don't-know-how-long that I've been to the doctor and been able to leave my pants on! I brought my own sheet this time and didn't even need it. The baby is big enough, and there's enough amniotic fluid now, that the tummy-cam was just fine. It was nice to meet a doctor who doesn't know what my girly bits look like. ;-)

rejoining the book club

2008-01-08T18:35:00.000-08:00

I did something I haven't done for about 15 or so years. I got me a library card.

I haven't been in a public library in ages. Probably since my last high school research project, whatever that was. I think it was on ancient coins. Or Emily Bronte. Either way, it's been something I haven't even thought of, and once the internet was up and running for common use, I did all my research there. Amazon.com took the place of checking out fiction.

But, there are a few books I want to read, and I'm not sure if I'm going to like them or not. I don't want to fork over $20 for a book that I'll think is crap. So I hopped online (of course) and discovered that our public library has a HUGE selection of books. And that I can look for them online. AND that they're open seven days a week, until 8 on two nights of the week. So I grabbed DH and we made an after-work trip downtown to see this place.

Amazing! It was HUGE! Two stories, with an information desk and computers every 10 feet where you can look up the books you want. They actually use the same online system inside the library. The last time I was in a public library, I had to use the card catalog to find a book. But here, a very nice man covered in tribal tattoos even came up to me to ask if he could help me find something. (Incidentally, this same system allows me to renew books and place books on hold from home. I'm impressed.)

Then I went downstairs. Holy moly - they have CDs! CDs didn't even *exist* last time I was in a library! DH and I stood there for a second, mouths open, not quite believing what we saw. I turned to him and asked, "So, what's to keep us from having the greatest music collection ever?" He just kind of laughed nervously and said, "I was thinking the exact same thing." Then we look over, and there's a guy at a nearby table with his laptop and a stack of CDs, just burning through them. DH checked out two CDs, and they cost 25 cents for a two week loaner period. I checked out two books. They had a two-item limit for new customers.

After, we stopped by a local Italian deli we found for meatball subs, still boggled by this library. I mean, I know it's just a library, and probably everyone else in the world knew about all the stuff that just amazed me, but it was all new to me. We're thinking this may become a two-week habit, going to the library to return our books, pick up some new ones, and stop for meatball subs (which were super yummy). DH is planning on bringing his laptop. They have wi-fi, so we may start spending hot summer days there instead of at Panera.

It's okay if you're laughing at me. I feel like a hillbilly hick venturing into the big city for the first time - "Look Pa! They gots music in them thar stacks!" DH has been bugging and teasing me for years about my resistance to going to a library. I think I've put it off for two reasons. One, the library in the town I grew up in sucked. It was a pain to find anything, books were never where they were supposed to be, and it was small. And two, there's something about the combination of white noise and the smell of books that always makes me have to pee. Oddly enough, this place didn't do that. Maybe because it felt more like a bookstore. My own little bookstore where I don't have to pay for books. Who knew?

wait... you mean I'm pregnant ?!

2008-01-06T17:39:00.000-08:00

Holy Cow! How on earth did I make it to the 2T?! It still doesn't feel real, and I've seen the baby several times, including one where s/he was waving and wriggling around. We've seen the heartbeat (though not heard it yet). I have an OB, my pants are tight, and my appetite is all cattywumpus. But I still feel like a total poser, like any day now someone is going to find out I'm just faking this and I'll be kicked out of the mommy club.

I had big plans to head out to an outlet mall about an hour away from me this weekend. But it's raining, and I'm sleepy/lazy/pregnant. So I decided to do some light shopping online, get some pants to hold me over until I "need" maternity clothes. I'm just a few weeks along, right? This isn't baby yet, the baby is too small...

My mother gave me a maternity top when she first found out I was pregnant, so I tried it on to get a feel for sizes. WOW! I took a look in the mirror, and I freakin' look pregnant! WTH?! Did some quick math - we've got about six months to get ready for this kid! I just found out I was pregnant, I'm supposed to have nine months! I was so freaked out, I called my mom. I *never* call my mom. I'm not an "I need my mommy" type.

I'm pregnant. Really and truly pregnant. I'm not just lazy and sleepy all the time - all my energy is going to growing another person inside of me! I'm not just a picky eater all of a sudden, there's a BABY in there! This is actually really for reals! Crazy...

top ten reasons I can't sleep...

2008-01-06T06:51:00.001-08:00

restless legs
heartburn
husband is snoring
had a bad dream, creeped me out
too hot with covers, too cold without
can't get that damn Uno song (Xbox) out of my head
cat insists on sleeping on my feet
too much sleep last night? doesn't feel possible...
worried about getting enough sleep
our electric blanket smells like cat (just started yesterday, going to the cleaners today)

my husband the genius

2008-01-04T19:38:00.000-08:00

No, I'm not being a smartass. He really is quite smart.

My "baby" sister had her 30th birthday shortly after Christmas. Being as it was so close to the holidays, and as my family doesn't know how to NOT do the holidays to the extreme, there was limited fundage and energy to do anything spectacular for her. Which made me sad. So I called her up to ask her what she really wanted, hoping to help her ring in 30 with style.

She said she didn't want to do anything really. Mom was making some of her favorite foods for dinner, and she wanted to just stay home and hang out with us. "But, can you bring your Wii? We can bowl, and make Dad bowl too, and it will be fun." Okay, easy enough.

So we get to the house, and DH goes to set up the Wii, and realizes he left the sensor bar at home. This is the component that sits on top of the TV and sends out IR signals so the controllers know where they are in space, so you can use them to point at the screen, bowl, golf, fight evil monsters in the land of twilight, etc.

My mom calls Toys-R-Us, but of course they don't even answer the phone. They try Radio Shack, and they don't have them. Sis is looking sad, but holding tough and saying "It's okay, don't worry about it." I, on the other hand, was about to have him drive back home for the sensor. After all, this was the ONLY thing she wanted to do to celebrate her 30th birthday!

Here's the genius part. DH sits and thinks for a minute, then out of the blue asks Sis if she has three pillar candles. Confused, she says yes and goes to get them. He sets them on top of the TV, hooks up the Wii, turns out the lights, and *bam* - the controllers work!

As it turns out, candles emit IR light. Go figure! So having three candles on the TV worked about as well as having an electronic doohicky with three IR lights in it. We had to play in the dark - as my sister said, "Just like in the olden days!" ;-) And we had to stand a little closer to the TV. But it worked, Sis got her birthday wish, and everyone was happy.

My husband. Freakin' brilliant.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
By the way, this is my 100th post on this blog.

holiday traditions

2007-12-25T00:06:00.000-08:00

And just like that, it's Christmas Eve. How did that happen? Last time I checked, it was Thanksgiving and we had plenty of year left. Now, it's over.

We had the traditional Christmas Eve with the folks tonight. My mother gives us two gifts on Christmas Eve - pajamas, and a gift she made. The PJ's go back to when we were little and she'd want us to look cute in the Christmas Morning pictures as we opened our gifts. The gift she makes, well she's been doing that for years. When we were little it was dolls she made. I have several handmade dolls in a box in the garage, ready to pull out if I have a little girl. As children, we didn't always appreciate the care and effort she put into making these gifts for us, and they could get lost in the excitement of opening the shiny toys. So she started giving them to us on Christmas Eve, so they became a special part of the holiday and weren't overshadowed by the rest of the frenzy.

This year I received a pair of maternity jammies and a silver bracelet that she made. The jammies look comfy, and the bracelet is gorgeous. I've gotten to the point that these are the gifts I most look forward to every year. I don't need or want piles of "stuff" to open and to add more clutter to my life. The PJ's I wear all year long, and still enjoy ones from years past. The gifts she makes are made with love, and sometimes a sense of humor (like last year's Pillow Cases O' The Season, made of special fabrics specific to holidays and times of the year), and those mean more to me than notepads with my name on them and calendars of places I've been.

Dad brought back an old beloved tradition tonight. My grandmother used to make the most wonderful candy ever - bon bons and peanut brittle. She stopped a couple of years before she died. My aunt has taken up making the bon bons, but no one has been ambitious or brave enough to try the brittle. But something came over my dad this year, and he made several batches. I almost cried when I tasted it - *exactly* like gramma used to make. Light and airy, melt in your mouth goodness. It tasted like Christmas Past.

Next year will be Baby's First Christmas. I'm already thinking about what kinds of traditions I want to pass on to my children. I know that Grandma will do the jammies and the hand made gift for the baby. It's her thing. I would like to find my own thing, something that will be meaningful to my kids as they go through life. My own grandmother used to have us over to bake Christmas cookies, and then to go see The Nutcracker Suite every year. I miss that, actually. Maybe I'll start that again with my kids. I tried going to see the ballet with DH one year, and it just wasn't the same. I think I need to experience it through the eyes of a child once again. I think the magic of the season is best experienced with the wonder of a child. I'm glad to have that coming into my life next year.

RPS

2007-12-03T13:05:00.000-08:00

I don't think I have ever been this tired in my entire life. Not even in college, when I'd pull all-nighters. Damn. I slept for most of yesterday, didn't even get out of bed 'til about 4. We managed to make it out for dinner, and I had grand ambitions of seeing a movie, but after dinner I was wiped so we just went home. Dozed in front of the tv for a couple of hours, and went to bed. People keep asking me if I'm taking naps during the day, but I'm not quite sure how I'm supposed to do that when I work 9-5:30 with a half-hour lunch.

Something very sad (to me) happened at dinner. We went to Souplantation, and about halfway through my small green salad, I looked at DH and said, "I used to enjoy eating, didn't I?" It's just no fun anymore. I get super hungry, and as soon as anything hits my stomach I feel nauseous. Things that tasted great yesterday turn my tummy just by me smelling them. I don't crave anything - on the contrary, there is absolutely nothing I want.

So I'm exhausted and queasy all the time, and every day I think to myself "I should just call in sick, take the day to rest, not push myself." Then I realize, I'm going to be feeling like this for a while, so I might as well suck it up and deal with it.

My mother told me the other day, "I wish you'd just enjoy this. This is the golden time in your life - I really hope you can enjoy it." Overall, I am. For the most part. When I see that little heart beating, for example, or when I'm thinking about how to decorate the nursery. Just not when I'm doubled over the sink retching, or trying not to fall over I'm so effing tired.

haiku

2007-11-21T12:27:00.001-08:00

There is a loud squeak
Whenever I blow my nose
Since it was repierced

happy sickness

2007-11-21T09:08:00.001-08:00

I am very very late for work today, as I've been singing to the porcelain all morning.

=)

irritation

2007-11-19T13:24:00.001-08:00

Everything is annoying me today. The sound of people's voices, the way others are driving, routine tasks at work. I find myself with a snotty inner monologue, narrating snappy thoughts and snarky comments to everything that's going on around me.

It's a little better now that I've eaten something. But for the most part, I want to just bite everyone's head off.

I know most of my irritation is unfounded, and I don't have the capacity to distinguish between what is deserved and what isn't. So I'm just keeping quiet.

chill

2007-11-18T08:40:00.000-08:00

By the time they called this morning I was feeling a little bit silly. But the nurse was very kind. She isn't always, I got the same one who told me "Let's not get too excited yet, let's wait and see what happens."

I was right. She told me to chill. But in a nice way, and when I thanked her for calling me back and for not laughing at me, she said, "Oh of course! Don't even worry about it!" I'm sure they're used to hormonal women worried about their babies. After all, each of us that they deal with has been through a lot to get here. Just the merest suggestion that something might be wrong is horrifying, even when it comes from someone compeltely unqualified to have an opinion.

Man I wish I could sleep. I'm exhausted, but can't seem to keep my eyes closed. Oh well. Baby practice. ;-)

much better

2007-11-18T06:47:00.000-08:00

So I did my own little version of confirmation that the bean is still there. Which is to POAS, of course. ;-) I still have tests from the past two weeks lined up on my window sill so I can see the line get darker and darker. Last night was my darkest line yet, even darker than the control line, and before the control line even showed up. Unscientific? Yup. Reassuring? You betcha.

So I told DH, "I know you don't care as much as I do, and probably think I'm just nuts, but I'm going to show you anyway because you're a good guy and I know you'll humor me, so look!" Showed him the test from two days ago (I REALLY like seeing that line show up, and I had a stock of tests still) and the one from last night, and he of course made the appropriate ooh and aah noises. So then I say, "Here I am complaining that all my symptoms dissapeared, but obviously I'm still crazy." And he says, "Well... I wasn't going to say..." I said, "Seriously? You were thinking that?" "... Yeah..."

Cracked me up. It's amazing how a fluctuation in hormones can make an otherwise sane and rational woman absolutely nuts. Seriously. I feel like I'm going a bit insane. ;-)

Of course, last night I ate dinner and was immediately sick to my stomach. Couldn't sleep for the heartburn, so I had to use my new wedge pillow. Then I just couldn't sleep, got up at 5 (STARVING, had to eat), and have been making Christmas lists for the past two hours.

Yeah. And I was worried.

expectations

2007-11-17T20:42:00.000-08:00

They told me that once I got pregnant, it wouldn't matter how it happened. For the most part, they were right. I'm so happy to be pregnant, I don't really care that it happened in a room with an audience, someone else doing the aiming.

But that doesn't mean I am done grieving my infertility. There is part of me that is still sad that we had to have so much help. I was not the first person to find out we were pregnant. First a lab tech, then the doctor, than the nurse, then me. It's not a horrible thing, and I know that in the "olden days" the doctor found out first (or the poor bunny, who found out when she met her maker). But I had an expectation for how it was "supposed" to be, and it turned out to be different.

Which really shouldn't surprise me. I mean, how many things in life turn out just exactly how we imagine them to be? Even now, as I'm pregnant, it's not what I expected. I expected to spend every minute fretting and worrying about the baby. Until today, I haven't worried a bit. I've been convinced that this is It, this is The One, this baby ain't going nowhere and I'm going to be just fine. It's been nothing but happiness and grins.

Of course, today I heard horror stories about someone's multiple miscarriages, and it freaked me out. My pregnancy symptoms have decreased this past week, which of course has me convinced that something's wrong. If the hormones are getting stronger, and my baby is growing, shouldn't I be feeling MORE sick, instead of less? Today there's no morning sickness, the heartburn isn't so bad, my boobs don't hurt, I'm not as bloated as I was... So of course I panicked and called the doctor to tell them "I don't feel pregnant anymore! You're the experts, and I'm freaking out, so I'm calling you so you can tell me whether I should come in or if I should just chill." They're closed of course, but I'll probably hear from them tomorrow morning. And they'll probably tell me to chill.

And then I remember - lunch made me totally sick to my stomach. I had heartburn all afternoon. I still have those gassy cramps I've had for two weeks. I'm not bleeding, or spotting, even a little. I bought one of those wedge pillows to sleep on, which I used for the first time last night, and maybe it just worked, which is why I actually slept well last night.

So I have come to at least one conclusion about pregnancy. It makes me crazy. At least that is EXACTLY as I expected!

five week mark

2007-11-14T16:25:00.000-08:00

I can't believe I've known I'm pregnant for the past 10 days. It still seems surreal. I'm having an easier time wrapping my head around "I'm going to be a mommy" than I am "I'm pregnant."

Today is the five week mark. Which strikes me as hilarious, since the IUI was only three weeks ago. Ah, pregnancy math. Douglas Adams should have powered a spaceship on that one.

My levels continue to go up.
Beta #1 @ 12 DPIUI 34.5
Beta #2 @ 16 DPIUI 170.0
Beta #3 @ 20 DPIUI 1112.0

It's a doubling rate of about a day and a half, which is very good considering they like to see it double at least every two days.

Friday is my first ultrasound - they say there's the slightest possibility we might maybe see the heartbeat, no promises. That would be freaky cool, but I'm not holding my breath. I just want more confirmation that this little fella is sticking and growing and all is as it should be.

I keep POAS. Every day I test again to see if the line is getting darker. I have them all lined up on my window sill, so I can see the progression. Yesterday the line was almost as dark as the control line, and it's interesting to see that I didn't really start to get a noticeable line until about three days after my doctor confirmed pregnancy.

So far the morning sickness has hit, but seems to be better this week now that I'm giving in to the exhaustion and getting more sleep. The heartburn won't cooperate, though, and keeps me up every couple of hours. It's okay, though, as I'm up anyway to pee. What I don't like so much is waking up with so much acid in my stomach that I puke for 20 minutes. I can go most of the day peeing only a few times, but come night time I'm up every two hours. I have no idea what that is about. I'm also so bloated that I have one pair of pants that's fitting me, and only with a rubber band looped through the button hole. I'm told the bloating goes away after a few weeks, and then my pants will fit again until the bump starts to show. Other than that, my boobs are sore as hell and my sense of smell seems to have kicked into high gear.

All in all, it seems like a perfectly normal pregnancy. =) And I'm loving every minute of it. I waited too long for this to do nothing but bitch and moan about it for the next nine months. I know that there will come a time, probably before too long, that my physical symptoms get the best of me and I break down into a puddle of tears. That's okay, too. For the most part, though, I want to try and enjoy this as much as I can.

holy crap!

2007-11-04T19:49:00.000-08:00

Okay, now it's hitting me.

I'm going to be a mommy! Whatever happens from this point on, I can never again say I've never been pregnant. I actually used the phrase "Because I'm the momma now!" to my own mother tonight. (She was pushing me to tell her the names we've been thinking of.)

I have a million things I need to do!

Clean the house. No, I mean REALLY clean the house.
Including the "spare room," which has been a cat room, and needs to be a baby room.
Patch up the walls - the electricians left holes in the walls when we had the house rewired. Last year. It gets drafty.
Ooh, we need heat! I can't raise a baby in a house without heat!
Or a bathtub! Our tub definitely needs to be reglazed. Maybe with the money we don't have to spend on IVF now, we should just redo the bathroom...
I need to stop saying "Fuck" so much. Better practice now, so Baby G's first word isn't the f-bomb.
I need to return those pants I bought yesterday! What was I thinking?!
We need to get a video camera.
We need to get life insurance.
We need to make wills.

I also have a million questions!

What kinds of cheese do I need to avoid? I know blue and brie, most soft cheeses. Does this include Feta? Kasseri? Is there a list somewhere? I need to google this!
I know honey is bad for babies under two - is it okay while pregnant?
What are the good books I need to read? Which are the bad ones I should avoid?
I need to find a plus-size maternity store. Is that a question or a thing to do?
Is it safe to keep getting my hair dyed?
What about getting my nails done?
How soon should I tell work? Not 'til after Thursday's results are in, that's for damn sure. But how soon? Weeks? Months? Before I start to show, but after I feel it's safe.
Is Thanksgiving too soon to tell family? Should I wait for Christmas?
How are we going to handle the holidays in the years to come? FIL is on the east coast, MIL is in Washington, and my family is all here. I don't want to spend the holidays with MIL, but I'm sure she'll want to meet her grandbaby.
Oh! When should we tell HIS family?!

Okay, so it's not really a million. But it's a lot, and I keep thinking of things. Don't worry, though. It's not stressful, worrying thinking. Mostly it's excited fun thinking.

beta

2007-11-04T13:41:00.000-08:00

So it's been a quiet cycle for me, blogwise. We did another injectible/IUI cycle, and it went pretty much as predicted. We had three eggs this time, including one from my lazy-ass left ovary, which seemed promising. Beta this morning.

I am officially With Child. Pregnant. Bun in the oven, in the family way, knocked up.

I will wait eagerly for Thursday's test to tell me how quickly the numbers are climbing. As of now, I am happy. =) I refuse to worry about this. I refuse to think stressfull what-if thoughts. I will enjoy this, revel in it, and know once and for all that yes, I can get pregnant! My eggs like DH's sperm! We don't have to do IVF!

So, when does it start to feel real...?

angry vs. kicky

2007-10-16T23:14:00.001-07:00

I would rather be pissed off than sad. Sad makes me feel like a victim, and feeling like a scared little girl just makes that victim feeling even stronger. I hate feeling like that. Hell, I didn't feel like a scared little girl even when I was a little girl. I don't want to feel that way at 33.

Today I have regained some of my kickass. I'm angry about my IF, and I'm ready to do something about it. I don't know what, exactly, but something. Anything, so long as I'm not sitting around feeling sorry for myself.

I had a consultation with an acupuncturist this evening – I don't know if we're going to be able to make it fly, but we'll talk about it and maybe give it a go. If it helps with the migraines and the IF, then I'm on board. But it's quite expensive, and they want me to go in a couple times a week for the first month or so. After that it seems more reasonable, but if I'm going to do it I want to do it right, not half-assed.

I think we're going to start a yoga class together, too. DH has done yoga before, but I'm a newbie, so it would be nice to have some moral support. Besides, the exercise will be good for both of us. I think I'll be more likely to go if it's a "date," too.

I'm on a quest for an earlier bed time, as well. I need more rest than I'm getting, but DH likes to stay up 'til about midnight. Which is fine for him, he doesn't have to be at work at any particular time. Me, I get hell if I'm even a minute late. I've been sneaking it up earlier and earlier, but I think I went too fast tonight. "What?! It's only 10!" Well, yeah, that was my goal. I'll have to ease back into it. Or start going to bed before him.

sadness to anger

2007-10-15T15:52:00.001-07:00

I am so so sad today, and it's pissing me off.

We decided not to go to WA. DH decided, because I didn't want to be the one to make the decision, so he decided it wasn't worth the stress, and that pisses me off too. Not him, he made the right decision, and I really didn't want to go.

But I want to want to go. I hate that I'm going to miss out on seeing my new niece, and my little nephew. My BIL and SIL, who I adore. I hate that I am so hurt, that I can't even handle a weekend with these people.

Today at the RE's office for my CD3 checkup before starting injections again, I just sat there in my little paper napkin and cried. I asked the doctor if it was worth even trying this again, with the same protocol, since it is only giving us a 10% chance. She said not to give up yet, try it at least one more time.

But I felt so small, like a scared little girl. I'm 33 years old, and I'm sleeping with a teddy bear again.

I hate this. I hate this so much. Why does it have to be so damn hard? I fucking hate this.

At least now I'm pissed. I like that better than being sad.

extra super dragon strength

2007-10-11T22:15:00.001-07:00

One of the things that a woman does in her quest for motherhood is to treat her body as if she is already pregnant. I have cut back on caffeine and alcohol, I'm not smoking, I'm (trying to) eat healthier… I also went to my doctor and we agreed to switch out all the different prescriptions I'm on for ones that are pregnancy safe. This is important because a lot of the damage that unsafe meds can cause to an unborn child can happen within the first ten days after conception, before I'd even know I was pregnant. So, some prescriptions were swapped for others, and some were cut clean out.

Unfortunately, one of the meds that was completely eliminated was the one that prevents me from getting migraines. Since my migraines are menstrual migraines, and most prominent at the turn of a cycle, I figured I could live with it for a day or two for the good of my future child. I'm looking into alternative treatments, such as acupuncture, acupressure massage, chiropractic care. I have several calls out already, and I'm most interested in a Wellness Center that is right near my work, and that advertises a holistic approach to total health.

However, one of the side effects of the progesterone I was taking is the delay of my period. I am here in a limbo land between "We're so sorry, your blood results came back negative" and "Oh crap, time to stock up on feminine products." Thing is, my head doesn't realize this could take a few days, and has kicked into migraine mode. For the past four days, I have alternated between migraine pain and waves of nausea, unable to take my preventative meds, and not supposed to take my treatment meds. And the migraine won't go away until AF comes, and that could still take 'til Sunday.

The doctor told me I could take Tylenol. Extra Strength, even. Which is about as effective a cure for migraines as "just relaxing" is a cure for infertility.

But I'm trying to "behave," do what I'm supposed to do, increase my chances of eventually being able to conceive. So Tylenol it is, combined so far with cold compresses, hot showers, subdued movements, and small snacks throughout the day to keep my stomach settled. I've found they make it in a variety of options – vanilla-flavored night-time Tylenol, flavor-burst daytime Extra Strength, capsules, caplets, gelcaps… None of it really works.

In a fit of desperation, I finally asked the pharmacist what I thought was a very stupid question. "Is there something stronger than Extra Strength Tylenol? Is there some sort of Extra Super Dragon Strength Tylenol?" I was willing to look stupid if there was a chance.

As it turns out, there is. I don't know what regular Tylenol contains, but I know that Extra Strength Tylenol contains 500mg of acetaminophen. However, Tylenol Arthritis Pain contains 650mg! Which means for each two-capsule dose, I'm getting an additional 300mg of the good stuff! And it's time-released, so the effects last longer.

So yes, there IS such a thing as Extra Super Dragon Strength, OTC Tylenol. And it's safe for me to take, and it finally takes the edge off. I'm so glad I asked!

dipping my toes in the scary pool

2007-10-09T22:18:00.001-07:00

I sent away for information on adoption today. I didn't tell DH 'til hours later, as we were sitting at dinner. He just looked at me and said, very carefully, "Okay." I still don't know how I feel about this, just asking for information. I'm not nearly at a place to adopt yet. But then… Tonight I'm holding a Pooh Bear, when I could be holding a baby. True, Pooh will let me sleep more. But I'd trade all the sleep in the world to have a baby-head-smell that's all my own.

DH asked me what I wanted for dinner. "Steak and beer," I told him. We went to the Roadhouse, where there's always too much food. Their beer sucked, so I had their large "Koolaid" which is a kamikaze sort of alchoholic beverage. Didn't even touch me. I wanted to get respectably sloshed tonight. Not fall-down-drunk, but slightly more than buzzed. So much for that.

I so don't want to go to work tomorrow… I'm exhausted. But not as in bad a shape as I expected to be. Small comforts, I guess.

negative

2007-10-09T17:50:00.001-07:00

It really sucks to have to sit around and wait for someone to call and tell you you're not pregnant. Couldn't I have just tested at home, had the results sooner, and cried in private?

At least I've only cried for half the day, instead of all day.

I spent a couple of hours rummaging through the garage, boxes we never bothered to unpack, closets and crannies. I feared I'd accidentally given away what I was looking for. I sent DH to the center of our garage – no easy task – because I thought I saw a bag I thought it was in. Finally, in a box in a closet in a room I don't go in I found him – my Pooh Bear. He's just the right size and shape to curl up around and cry. I have a smaller one, an Edward Bear (that's Pooh's name when he's wearing the red sweater), and he's rejoined me in bed this week. But today I needed my big Pooh bear. The one I held when the towers fell, the one I slept with every night for years, the one who's soaked up more tears than a sponge. I found him. Why does that make me feel stronger?

waiting

2007-10-09T09:29:00.001-07:00

Today is my first beta ever. No HPT for me, no sir. They're doing it old-school, drawing blood and calling me with the results. Not only has baby-making become a team sport, so has the big reveal. I will not be the first to know. First the lab tech, then the doctor I imagine, then the nurse who calls me. Then me and DH, and the news spreads from there. BFF, E--, a post and some emails, family…

It's 9am and we just got back. DH came with me (I didn't think he would) and he's working from home today (I asked him to). My plan was to get up early, throw on some clothes, get there and back and hop back into bed. It took us almost an hour to get there - the drive is usually 20 minutes. So now it's 9 and I'm so nervous my stomach hurts, and there's no way I can sleep.

They said to call them after 2 if I haven't heard from them by then. So much for a two hour wait. I'm hoping they'll call early. A friend of mine said she always got the call around noon.

One of the nurses called me on my way there to ask if I was taking Follistim or Clomid next cycle. I was a bit confused - I hadn't even had my blood drawn yet, and they were telling me it failed?! I told her I was never under any circumstances ever taking Clomid again, and she hung up. I was crushed. They had so little faith in me and this cycle, they were already planning for the next one. Couldn't they at least *pretend* until I got my test results back?

Then she called back, said she'd called me in error and meant to call someone else. I told her I was on my way in, so it seemed strange, and she was very apologetic.

So of course when I got there I said hello to all the nurses, then wagged my finger at the one who'd called and said "Don't DO that to me! No mistakes when you call me back later today! And I want GOOD NEWS!"

So that's about it. The nurse taking my blood asked which vein she should use (they're tiny, so they always ask me how others have done it), and I told her "use the pregnant vein." She didn't get it, said "Well, I need one with blood in it." "Yes," I told her, "pregnant blood." At least she smiled at that. I use humor as a shield (I know, you're shocked, but it's true), so it's comforting when people around me are light hearted during a nerve-wracking situation.

And now I wait. Anywhere from 2-5 hours. It is going to be a very long day.

DirecTV HR20-100 - WTF?

2007-10-01T22:41:00.000-07:00

(My letter to the Powers That Be at DirecTV)

Dear DirecTV,

I would like to start by saying that we have been very happy customers of DirecTV for about five years or so. I love DirecTv itself, and the quality of service we've received has been excellent. However, regarding this new HR20-100 box - I am UNHAPPY.

We just "upgraded" to your new box, the one they said we needed in order to receive a signal once you upgrade your satellites. The one they told us was just so awesome. I hate it. The remote is not intuitive at all. The list of recorded programs isn't even in alphabetical order - I have to scroll through everything to find anything! The picture-in-picture that plays when I'm looking at the menu? Spoiled the ending of Heros, which it was recording but I hadn't watched yet. I can't just stop a recording and delete it - I have to go back to the menu and find it again and THEN delete it. It took me a week to find the "dash" button to delete a folder/episode quickly. And why are there three different back buttons? THERE ARE WAY TOO MANY BUTTONS!! And forget about deleting the channels that we don't receive - no, we have to scroll through ALL of them, whether we get them or not. And least of all my complaints, it is not comfortable to hold.

In short, I miss my TiVo, which was both intuitive and well designed, and which DirecTv told us we could no longer use. Instead, we are stuck with this POS that is clunky, difficult to use, and completely disorganized. You guys really need to get on the ball and make this worlds better, or go back to partnering with TiVo, who seems to have gotten it right.

thoughts in my head

2007-09-30T23:02:00.000-07:00

A little voice inside my head as I took my shower earlier today - You're not pregnant. I stopped mid-shampoo to listen, even though I knew it was in my head, a thought only. I hadn't even been thinking of it, so the thought took me by surprise.

Truth is, there's no way of knowing. I'm on so many medications that any of my "symptoms" could be side effects. I've learned from experience that there is just no way to know for sure, not until you get that BFP or AF.

Still, I hold out hope. I place my hands over my womb, and pray. I meditate, and wear the bracelet a friend made me, claiming the stones in it would attract fertility. I have shunned caffeine and alchohol, soft cheeses, and all the other things we do when we think we might have a chance at being pregnant. I'm not even bracing myself for disappointment after the shining disaster that proved to be last cycle.

I thought of a RESOLVE meeting I went to a while back, and one of the women who was there for the last time. She and her husband had decided to adopt, and their child was to be born within the next couple of weeks. At the time I felt sorry for her, in a way, thinking how hard it must be to come to terms with the fact that she would never feel her child grow within her own body, she would not give birth herself. But today, I envied her. Her struggle is over, her joy is here. She is a mother, and tonight she holds her little one to her chest, cherishing the gift she's been given. That child is no less hers for being born of another's labor - I never thought it was. But perhaps she treasures the child all the more for the labor she did go through to get to motherhood.

I wonder how I will arrive at motherhood. Will it be through injections and catheters filled with washed specimens? Will it be when we least expect it, after we've given up all hope and stopped trying? Will it be through another's labor pains and tears, the grief of a mother who can't raise her own child?

I do not know. I pray to find out soon.

so this is what hope feels like…

2007-09-26T12:24:00.001-07:00

I have been to the doctor early in the morning every day since last Friday. Wait… not Saturday. But I've watched the sun come up these past two days, and besides Saturday I've been up way before I'm accustomed.

But it's okay. I'm actually having a good week. I've been confident and hopeful about this cycle. I've been feeling much better about this journey. I believe this is a combination of the Clomid leaving my system, my stressors being reduced, active work at relaxing and dealing with what I'm going through, and my natural response to the beginning of a cycle. Prayers and support of friends and family play a HUGE part, I will not overlook that. Whatever the absolute reason for my change in emotions, I'll take it.

Over these past several days, we were told we'd have three to four follicles release with the trigger shot. This morning, two of them had released. I liked my odds better with three, was slightly nervous about four but willing to go for it, and am somewhat discouraged by two. I never do ovulate from my left side…

I made the mistake of asking the doctor what my chances were, and he said that at my age with two eggs my chances are 10%. Which is a big difference from the 60% that the paperwork we signed for the drugs claimed. Still, DH's count was great, and now they have twice the targets to aim for. I'll be thrilled if they can find one of them this time.

Last cycle I tried to guard my heart. I tried to brace myself for the disappointment that was sure to come. I had no faith in the procedure, in my body, in the doctors. I had no faith that God was going to let this happen for me, not this time. I thought that by being cautious, I would be protected from the pain when my cycle ended.

Yet the end came, in all its crashing devastation, and I was not protected after all. Not only did it hurt just as badly, I was already depleted from not having any hope through the preceding weeks. The crash came, and I was pushed under a wave of despair and depression.

So a different approach this time. I choose to believe in this process. It's a numbers game. Maybe I have a 10% chance, but with two eggs I figure my un-medicated, un-helped odds are doubled. I've got twice as good a chance as I would with one egg. And if not this time, we have two more ahead of us. The odds may not be in my favor, but I've always believed in the underdog. I'm a Cubs fan, after all.

Two weeks of hoping, letting my heart be open to the idea that this could work. Two weeks of enjoying the possibility. Shoring up my energy, buffering the storm that's possibly coming with two weeks of relaxing, letting myself be happy, choosing to be positive.

I test on October 9, blood work at the clinic, anywhere from 7-9:30 am. I get the results about two hours later. Perhaps I should take the day off. Either way the test goes, I am going to cry and have a very emotional day. That's okay. If it's negative, hopefully these two weeks of positive thought will help me weather it. If it's positive, there will be MUCH rejoicing.

(As a side note, this particular clinic has a success rate of 50% with IVF, with a total of 47% of IVF patients bringing home a live baby. Should we end up going down that road, at least the odds are much more in my favor.)

upswing

2007-09-21T17:04:00.001-07:00

Today was my ultrasound to see how many and what size follicles I have. At first glance the doctor thought I had way too many – then he measured them and discovered that there are only three viable follicles. We'll probably have two or three when the time comes to trigger. I like those odds.

See, just because I may trigger with three follicles, and release three eggs, doesn't mean that all of them will fertilize. They could, there's a small chance, but I'm willing to take that chance with three. Because the bigger chance is that one of them will fertilize, and having three of them just gives the swimmers more targets to hit. Hopefully they'll find one of three, or even two of three.

I've always been disappointed when previous u/s have revealed only one follicle. I felt like it meant it wasn't going to work – and it never did. Self-fulfilling prophecy? Or maybe I just knew.

But hearing there were three… I suddenly have renewed hope for this cycle. I'm on a low dose of the drug, and three is a very respectable number for an IUI. As long as DH's count on the day of is good, we've got a really good chance this time.

Last cycle I tried not to get my hopes up. I really had no faith that Clomid and IUI would work for us. But I have faith in this cycle. And last cycle, despite trying not to get too excited and hopeful, I was still crushed when the cycle ended. Part of that was the way it ended – come on, four days late? So not fair! But part of it was that my heart kept hoping, even when my head told it not to.

So this time I'm settling in for the ride. I'm not going to fight it. I'm going to hope, and believe, and think that this could work for us. I'll be just as disappointed either way if the cycle does come to an end. I might as well enjoy this time while I can.

So the plan. Sunday morning we go back in to count the follicles and record the size. Trigger shot will probably be Tuesday, which will put IUI on Thursday. Then two weeks of waiting, and taking progesterone, and NOT testing because these drugs can give me a false positive. Then b/w, and a several hour, nerve wracking, nail biting wait to hear the results. Then I cry. Whether happy or sad, the tears are bound to come.

And the personal plan. Relax relax relax! Have some fun, enjoy some time with DH, stop stressing out about work and IF and all the little things I have no control over. Do the best I can at the things I DO have control over. Have some grace for myself, take care of myself, read a book, take a nap, get my nails done. Be kind to Me.

I'll gladly take any prayers, vibes, positive energy, happy thoughts, wishes, and baby dust that anyone wants to send my way or out into the universe on my behalf.

This may be just the right combination to get me pregnant.

red box brigade

2007-09-18T09:41:00.001-07:00

I woke up early yesterday, not sure how much time I'd need to do my first injection. The procedure itself wouldn't take long, getting the pen ready with the needle and the correct dose would only take a few seconds. But the actual doing of it, the talking myself into it, I had no way to gauge how long that would take.

I put it off as long as I could, and when I was ready for work, I woke up DH. I thought I wanted to do the injection myself, but I definitely wanted him there with me, for moral support.

We have to keep the medicine in the fridge, and it comes in a cute little case. The pen looks like colorful pen swag from a computer show or something, and the little vials of needles are individually packed. The nurse even gave me some alcohol pads to clean the injection site, so I was all set. It took me about two minutes to get everything set up.

Then my hands started shaking so badly, I almost dropped the pen. I quickly closed my eyes, and told DH "Here, you do it!" He didn't hesitate a second. Pinched the skin, inserted the needle, pushed the medicine through. I rubbed it in with a warm washcloth, then lay back on the bed and cried.

It didn't hurt, though. And DH was great – didn't even flinch, and I was worried about him being able to do it. He said it wasn't as hard as he thought it would be. We put the needle into our shiny red sharps box with the biohazard sign on the side, I went to work, and that was it.

This morning I got up early again. DH brought me the case, I set it up, and did it myself. They told me the first one was the worse, and they were right. It hurt a bit when I did it, but not much and I'm not squeamish about needles.

Today I'm feeling better about this whole thing. I always do a few days into a new cycle. Today is CD4, so AF is mostly gone and it's just life again. Waiting to O, waiting for IUI, then waiting for the results. Lots of waiting.

I started my meditations again last night. I've missed it, but I forget about it and how much I need it. This cycle has GOT to be about relaxing, enjoying life again, making my body as hospitable as I can. I can't grow new life if I'm all strung out and anxious all the time. And I don't want to live like that for my own sake, or the sakes of those around me.

injectibles

2007-09-16T21:40:00.000-07:00

CD1 hit me with a vengeance yesterday morning, as I was on my way out the door to take an exam for my certification. Knowing I was going to be stuck in an exam room for one 3-hour test, and one 6-hour test, I threw on an overnight pad, packed a couple extra, and tried to not think about it on my way to the test.

The academic portion of the exam went fairly well. I feel like I knew about 80% of the information without a doubt, made good choices on about 15%, and guessed randomly for about 5%. I need 70% to pass, and they won't tell me the percentage when they give me the results. It's just pass/fail.

At the break before the 6-hour drafting portion of the exam, I hit the restroom. And discovered that I had leaked through my overnight pad. I had a huge red stain on my ass, and it was very noticeable. So I stripped down in the bathroom to try and blot it out, hoping that wet spot would be less noticeable. No such luck. And there wasn't time to drive home and change, so all I could do was tug down on the back of my shirt and bear through it.

The test was brutal. No one finished. They grade on the curve, and I got a very good start on every section, so I'm hoping they'll see it and say "She knows what she's doing, she just ran out of time." If not, I'll be back in March. Maybe. Depending on how stressed out I am at the time.

So after being exhausted after getting up at 6 after about 4 hours of sleep, the disappointment of starting my period four days late, the embarassment of bleeding through in a big way, and the utter difficulty of the exam, I cried all the way home. And I haven't seemed to be able to shake it since.

During the break between the exams I just happened to look at my phone to see what time it was, and noticed that it was ringing. I had it turned to silent for the test. It was my RE, returning my call from earlier to tell them a new cycle had started. They got me in today (Sunday - gotta love a clinic that's open every day). DH and I headed out this morning to have an u/s follicle check (can you guess how fun that is on CD2 of a heavy period?), and to get schooled in injectibles. I have a case in my fridge now of Follistim, ready for my first shot in the stomache tomorrow morning.

I came home from the doctor and just went to bed. Slept away most of the day. I only got up because I had promised my cousin that I'd go visit her dad in the hospital today. I am sad, I am discouraged, I am exhausted. I feel beaten down and trompled over.

DH keeps asking me if I'm okay. I keep telling him no, but there's really nothing he can do about it. He's worried about me. I'm worried about me too. I have no idea how I'm going to keep doing this.

The paperwork we had to sign today said that this drug has a 60% conception rate. I'm ignoring the part where it said that, of that 60%, there's a 25% rate of miscarriage. I can't think of that. I did see, though, that there is also a 15% chance of twins. That's higher than my chance of conceiving at all naturally.

Ever since I was a little girl, I've thought I'd have twins. I've had three sets of twins as friends at different stages in my life, and every time I met a pair of twins I thought "Yeah, that makes sense to me." DH's aunt is a twin - well, I guess two of his aunts are twins. It would be a very difficult pregnancy, very high risk, and I don't know how my body would handle it. But it doesn't scare me. I've been disappointed every time an u/s has confirmed a single follicle, and I've never really believed that any of them would work. DH is terrified of two at once. I told him today, though, that I'm going for it if they tell me I have two follicles. He agrees, we should go fo it.

So, tomorrow it's CD3 and my first shot of Follistim. I've given my sister shots before, but never myself. I can't decide if I want to just do it myself, or have DH do it for me. Or drive to the clinic so they can give me the first one. I think I'll do it myself, but have DH next to me. Maybe let him give me one later, but for the first one, I think I want to do it myself.

Then I take progesterone suppositories for two weeks after the IUI. They told me to under no circumstances take a HPT. The meds can give me a false positive, so they'll draw blood and call me with the results.

I have to find a way to seriously relax this cycle. I've been too stressed out, and that can't be helpful. I need to start eating better again, no more excuses about how hard it is to take care of myself right now. I need to reduce as much stress as I can. The test is over, work is settling down, I have nothing I absolutely have to do. I might look into accupuncture. Or get a massage. Anything to relieve some of this tension. If I don't enjoy living in this body right now, how can I expect new life to want to start here?

that bitch

2007-09-14T09:23:00.001-07:00

*** POSSIBLE TMI ALERT ***

I have no idea what the hell is going on. Last night I peed, wiped, and *bam* AF was there. Not spotting, not over reacting, full blood. I cried my eyes out. I used to think that was just an expression, but my eyes are all buggy today, puffy and swollen and red, I cried so hard. Body-wracking, tears won't stop, "God must hate me and I'm letting everyone down and I can't do this anymore" crying. I told DH "I can't even look at you, I'm so ashamed of my infertility." Which made him cry. Which made me cry even harder. Which I didn't even think was possible.

Today? Not a drop of red. CM is white and creamy again.

So of course I tested. BFN. It's 13DO (12DPIUI). I've never made it to 13DPO before. Usually my LP is 10-11 days, 11 being "late" for me.

I swear, this is just cruel at this point. AF is just fucking with me now.

At least I'm not crying anymore. At this point, I'm just pissed.