Imaginary Lines

Come and See My New Place

2006-01-19T10:30:00.000-05:00

For anyone who might still be stopping by after such a long hiatus...http://www.imaginarylines.typepad.com/

Hope to see you there!

7-27-05, 6:06 AM, 8lbs. 7 ounces

2005-07-31T11:13:00.000-04:00

There's a new redhead in town!

I was right with that last post and went into labor very early the next morning.

I woke up at about 3:30 AM trying to figure out if I was having contractions. I was, but they weren't very regular yet. Ed woke up at 4 and I told him that I thought we were going to have a baby today.

I decided to have a little bit of coffee with my husband because I still wasn't completely sure that I was in labor. He put a movie in and I decided to lay down on the couch. Suddenly, the contractions started coming fast and furious. This was about 4:30.

He called his mom to come over and watch Thomas, and I was telling her to take her time, no rush. Thank God she didn't listen to me!

Ed helped me take a shower and get dressed, by this time it was really difficult for me to do anything but sit on the floor on my hands and knees. Ed's mom got there a little after 5 and I was already yelling in pain and throwing up. She wanted to call an ambulance, but I thought I had plenty of time! I was in labor for 12 hours with Thomas!

Ed got me into the car and I beat on the car door the entire way to the hospital, as he drove through red lights and sped. I still kept saying it's okay! We've got time!

We drove up to the hospital entrance and Ed helped me out of the car. That's when my water broke. We got inside and they tried to tell us to go check in and register, but changed there minds when they saw me screaming and gushing fluids all over the floor. They got me a wheel chair and told me to sit down but I refused because it hurt too much. I knelt down on the wheel chair and they moved me to L & D that way.

They got me in the room and tried to strap all kinds of monitors on me, but I really didn't want anything to do with it. They wanted me to lay flat on my back to check my cervix, and again, I wasn't happy. Eventually, I complied and they told me I was 7. No drugs for this girl!

After they checked me I immediately wanted to flip back over on my hands and knees and ended up all tangled in the wires from the monitors. The nurse kept yelling at me, "we have to check the baby, you have to let us check the baby!" I just yelled back, "he's fine! He's kicking all over the place."

My doctor came in about 5 minutes later and I asked her if I was 10 centimeters. She said, "no, you're 12." Okay then.

Then I had to do the thing I was most terrified of, push out the baby without any pain killers. I screamed. A lot. They told me not to. Having a baby through incredible mind-numbing pain is a totally different experience than having one with an epidural. They had to tell me how to push all over again. Your mind just wants to run away from the pain somehow, but you can't. You have to manage to push through it. It was a difficult thing to wrap my mind around, but then your body just takes over and the pushing comes. Our bodies do know what to do, even when our minds don't.

After I finally got myself coordinated it took about 2 pushes to get him out, and they plopped him down on my belly and into my arms. What an incredible feeling. To have accomplished this task, and at the same time to be holding this warm beautiful baby in my arms. He is beautiful. He has hardly left my arms since the moment he was born.

And I only had to spend a 1/2 an hour in labor and delivery. Nothing wrong with that!

I am content, proud, and happy, in a way that I haven't been for months. The task of making this baby is finished. I have both of my beautiful boys and I know that I couldn't be more fortunate. I don't mind one bit that I can't get any sleep at night, every moment is so precious. I am a happy woman.

I will post pictures when I can!

Nested

2005-07-26T16:15:00.000-04:00

I'm all nested, for now. I went on a cleaning rampage this weekend, and left no one uninjured in my wake.

I guess it was different than the "normal" cleaning when I was on my hands and knees with a wire brush and rubbing alcohol trying to get spots out of the floor.

I woke up today in PAIN, it hurts to roll over or stand up. This leads me to believe that the baby is in my pelvis now, that he has completely dropped. Maybe all that cleaning helped him along, but man does it ever hurt.

I also had an episode of bloody-show today, which may or may not mean that real labor is imminent. With Thomas I had this the evening before I went into labor at 2 AM. So keep your fingers crossed.

I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow anyway, and I'm sure they'll jam their hands up there and tell me what's up either way (FUN!). Or maybe I'll be holding this little guy in my arms by that time tomorrow.

I hope everyone is finding a way to stay cool out their, temps across the country are just brutal. I hope it breaks soon...

Swollen

2005-07-19T15:55:00.000-04:00

Don't you love it when you call your doctor's office to ask the nurse about your swollen hands and feet and before you can get more than 4 words out of your mouth she says, "Don't worry about it, it'll be gone by tonight."

'Scuse me? Well that would be a miracle since it has been going on for days, and my feet and ankles inevitably get worse at night. When I wake up in the morning my hands are so swollen and my joints are so sore that I can't even close my hand to make a loose fist. But she didn't ask me any of that. She also didn't ask me if I have any vision disturbances, or swelling in my face. Apparently she just "knew" without even asking. Well if that's the case she is quite the gem.

Lucky for me I don't have any vision disturbances, except the occasional raining lights when I go up the stairs too fast. My face was pretty puffy when I got up this morning, but seems to be okay right now.

I'm not sure if she even knew that I'm pregnant. Idiot. I have a good mind to complain about her to the doctor, but I don't want to make myself look like a jerk.

Anyway, it's a good thing I'm approaching the end of this pregnancy, because I just cannot physically take it for very much longer. I would love to go into labor, say, right now. Didn't happen. My body hurts and I can't sleep. There are some days, like yesterday for instance, when I have contractions all day long. Just enough to make me uncomfortable, but not enough to run off to labor and delivery.

I've just kind of given up on doing much of anything. I get these grand ideas in my head about cleaning my car and installing the car seat, and then realize that it's 100 degrees outside and doing that would probably just about kill me.

I was all geared up for a lone grocery shopping trip yesterday while Thomas stayed home with dad, and I got there only to have to slowly shuffle through the aisles while having repeated contractions. When I'm sitting down, my mind knows no end to the things that I need to and can accomplish. All it takes is actually starting on one of those tasks to find out that I just don't have what it takes right now.

I really hope I'm not in for 3 more weeks of this. You can come out now baby! All's clear!

I think I'll go sit and visualize my cervix opening, to see if it helps things along. Can't hurt, right?

Pushing Week 37

2005-07-15T14:25:00.000-04:00

Tic, toc, tic, toc.

Just got back from the doctor, I'm 1-2 centimeters dilated and 50% effaced. Which means exactly nothing, except that I'm going to have a baby sometime in the next 3 weeks, which we already knew. Terrific.

They aren't going to induce me, as it doesn't look like this baby is going to be as big as my last, probably because I haven't been indulging in as much sugar. I guess.

Thomas had a tantrum when we got in the house from the doctor's, I guess because he fell asleep in the car and didn't get a long enough nap. I had to restrain his arms and legs so that he couldn't hurt himself or smash his head on the floor, which he loves to do when he's mad. He scratched my arm, knocked my glasses off, and smashed me in the mouth with his head. So I'm not in the best of moods at the moment. Of course after I started crying he calmed right down. I guess that's what it takes. Me in tears with a fat lip.

You can only imagine my delight when 10 minutes later he came running up to me with his hands covered in poop from his diaper.

What I would like to know, sometimes, is where did my baby go? Did someone come into my house and switch him with a monster when I wasn't looking?

It doesn't help that we just got back from lunch with my MIL, who just wants to let him run around and be destructive in her office. "Oh, that's okay!" she swoons. Uh, no, it's not okay for him to run around slamming doors and playing with telephones. He slammed the conference room door so hard that I'm pretty sure he broke it. We couldn't get it to open again. "Oh--that's okay." I'm sure that's just how your boss is going to feel about it!

No, it really isn't okay for him to be destructive. And she's the one who'll be taking care of him when I'm in the hospital. Great. I'll probably come home to more work than I left with.

I just want my baby back. I haven't seen very much of him since about a month before he turned 2. I don't like this part of his development so far. It seems to involve a lot of ME being the target of his inexplicable tantrums.

I just can't wait to have this baby so that his father can help me take care of him for a couple of weeks. I guess that's what it's come down to. I have to actually have a baby to get a break from my first one.

Thanks A Lot, Oprah

2005-07-12T09:46:00.000-04:00

Damn it all, I always let her do this to me. I almost never, hardly ever, watch Oprah. But I always seem to find her when she has a show on depicting motherhood as akin to one of hell's inner rings. Yes, we all know that it isn't all it's cracked up to be, and we all stand ready to reaffirm Oprah's own life choices regarding motherhood, ready to tell her about our darkest moments and our deepest fears all wrapped up in what started out as a little demon disguised as an innocent newborn.

As a matter of fact, mine is doing a number on me right now. It might seem like he's just playing with the toilet, but it's really all part of the plan to make me lose my mind. I'm well on my way. Do you think the way he is pretending not to hear me say "no!" is just innocence?

Oprah had part 2 of her interview with Brooke Shields yesterday. We didn't know there was a part 2, of course, but it conveniently showed up after Brooke's Op-ed piece for the New York Times was printed last week. She was sticking her tongue out at the crazy, but still good-looking Tom Cruise, who emphatically denounced Brooke's use of anti-depressants to keep her from killing herself after her baby was born. Well, Tom knows best, I suppose.

I started taking Zoloft when my son was 6 months old. I never had any visions of him getting harmed in my care, and Lord knows I was about as far removed from negligent as any parent could get. My problem was that I was sure something terrible would happen to him the moment that he was out of my sight. A normal parental fear amplified, shall we say? Oh, and I also couldn't stop crying.

But then again, I am prone to depression anyway. As a matter of fact, I'm in the middle of a bout of depression right now. When I have this baby, I'm going to start taking an anti-depressant again. In your FACE, Tom Cruise.

Unless, of course, Mr. Cruise would like to lend me one of his personal trainers and a nanny to allow me time with said trainer? Didn't think so.

What Oprah's show did for me yesterday is what most "informative" television shows are trying to do; it terrified me. It's difficult for anyone to hear about the terrible things women can sometimes do to their children, but when you are waiting for your own to pop out any day now, it's particularly upsetting to hear about other women who chop off their baby's arms.

I was still so upset (not to mention just exhausted) at bed time yesterday, I just started bawling my puffy red eyes out. My God, is that going to happen to me?

I know, she was doing a public service by bringing this subject to the fore via one of the beautiful people, because we all know nothing is really, really true until it effects the beautiful people, but I for one could have done without. Yeah, I could've changed the channel, in theory, but we all know that Oprah is one of the world's most powerful people. She just held me there, mesmerized.

What happens when one of the beautiful people cancels out what another of the beautiful people has said? It's too much for an average person like me to sort out. Maybe the world is populated by aliens. Maybe Brooke Shields should have just gone out for a 10K jog before her surgical wounds had the chance to heal. If she really wanted to be better, that is. If she only really understood the human psyche the way Tom Cruise does. If. Only.

"Tommy! Please--do not play with the toilet!" Ugh.

She Hits the 36 Week Point

2005-07-08T22:46:00.000-04:00

Tomorrow, that is. We have an ultrasound on Tuesday to see how big the little guy is, and then they'll check my cervix on Friday to see what kind of shape it's in. Yay.

With Thomas they never checked my cervix until I was actually in labor. It seems to me that this is the better way to do things, the not checking, seeing that it doesn't really tell you anything.

My sister was 3 centimeters dilated with her last baby for 4 weeks. They finally got things rolling by breaking her water.

So, anyway. I have internal exam anxiety. I get over it quickly once the mind-blowing pain of labor really gets going.

Tonight Thomas went to be a bit early so I took the time to start putting all of Ryan's clothes away and I even packed my hospital bag.

Part of me is terrified of what I am going to do with 2 babies and how I'm going to care for them and the house and everything else....the other part of me would love to go into labor right now. My body is totally ready to be done with this pregnancy. I remember feeling the same way with Thomas. Once I hit 36 weeks I just kept waiting for any little sign that things were going to get going...soon. I didn't get any hint until the night before I went into labor, and that was a little bit of blood-tinged mucous. That was it. At 2 AM I woke up with painful contractions and the rest is history.

My feet are too fat to fit into my sandals. I hope that this is just swelling, and not something permanent. I remember having to buy special really big shoes last time too. I probably won't wear regular shoes until the baby is a couple of weeks old. My feet are already a size 11, so you know I'm never finding shoes if my feet go up a size.

The only other feeling I have is a lot of pressure in the pelvic region. I don't know if this means that the baby is engaged or not, but I do feel him pushing his head down toward the exit--like he's trying to find his way out. I'm sure it's getting cramped in there, he's probably wondering what happened to his comfy home.

In other boring news--our hot water heater is broken. Well, it starts when the husband starts it--and then it goes out again in a day--so more money down the drain for that.

Tomorrow is my sister's baby shower--which should be fun. My MIL wanted to give me one, but I said no. I'm just not feeling up to it--not to mention it would just make my lack of friends glaringly obvious to my family. I don't know anyone but Thomas any more. Well, I could do a lot worse.

I'm going to go to bed now, and I hope I get a chance to see my husband sometime this weekend. I'm soon going to do something violent to those people that he works for who do not realize how long his hours are and how little he gets to see his family. Not to mention the stress of having to do everything myself...poor me.

To anyone still reading...thanks...and have a lovely weekend.

I'm Noticing Something Out There

2005-06-30T21:24:00.000-04:00

Has anyone else noticed that stay-at-home moms (such as myself), tend to find themselves struggling with depression? What's going on here? Most of us will tell you that this is the very thing that we wanted, to care for our children, so why is it leaving us so emotionally drained, angry, and sad?

I can only speak for myself when I say that I think it may be a matter of the job being much more difficult then anything anyone could have described to me. I knew being a mother would require a lot of patience and emotional maturity...but I guess I never really realized that it would also require....everything else that I have to give.

I watched my own mom struggle to be a mother to us while fighting debilitating psychological problems. For many of my very young years my mother was unable to leave the house without my father, and she was sometimes even unable to get out of bed.

I always knew that she loved us, but I did not understand at the time that the thing that was eating her alive was what was taking most of her energy, and not the job of being my mother.

For many years I thought that I would never have children. Not because I didn't want them, but because I didn't think that I could handle the job, or that I deserved the privilege. I didn't want to turn into my mother, and I didn't want to make my own children feel like they had to protect me from there own needs, the way I sometimes felt I need to do for my mom.

So now, when I feel myself falling into that dark pit, where I am angry and sad and lashing out at the little person that I love most in this whole entire world, I sometimes think to myself, in a very quiet inner voice, " you were right to think you couldn't handle this."

And that is when I feel my darkest.

And that is the door that leads to a place where I would not be a good mother to my children.

Sometimes I cry and scream into my pillow and accidentally break bathroom mirrors--and then--when I am done behaving very very badly...I do the thing that I must to remain sane...

I forgive myself. I remember that I am a human being, and that it is difficult to give of yourself all day long, everyday, with little help and no breaks.

I remember that my child knows, above everything else, that he is loved and he is safe. I remember that if I lose my cool and shout at him, he will forgive me long before I ever forgive myself.

I remember that while I do sometimes find that it feels like I am turning into my mother, that I am not my mother, and that I have the ability to make different choices than the ones my mother made. I have many more resources than she had available to her at the time. I will do what I need to do to be healthy for myself and for my family.

I do not know what is eating at other mom's that are challenged by depression, but if you are one who is reading this, just know you aren't alone. This is the most difficult job there is. It's easy to forgive yourself for slacking off and making mistakes at the office. It's not so easy when you feel you are making mistakes with your children.

Good night.

No Surrender

2005-06-29T21:59:00.000-04:00

I officially quit my job as mom over this past weekend. I told my husband that it was over. Oh, I would still hang around doing the wifey thing and playing with and kissing the babies, but as far as making my two year old eat his dinner, getting him to stop sticking his hands into his 4-times-a-day poopy diaper, getting hit with plastic toys, etc.; it's over. Done. No more. Get someone else to do it. I don't want to be the yeller and the disciplinarian. Trouble is, there's no one else to do it, since my husband leaves before we wake and arrives after we're asleep at least 4 days a week.

"So, you want to hire a nanny?" was my husband's response.

YES! But God knows there is no way that's going to happen. That's for people with much more money than we will ever have.

So we're going through the terrible twos. We aren't the first and we won't be the last. The problem is that while Thomas is going through this phase of learning how to behave around other human beings, I have to be so damned mature all of the time. I don't think I can handle it.

Sure, you have to be mature to breast feed and get up with an infant four times a night without tearing your hair out. A two-year old just takes it all to another level. It can really test all of your resources as a parent, and it makes all of the mistakes of your own parents painfully obvious. If they hadn't screwed me up so bad, I wouldn't be like this, right?

Having children can bring out the very best in you. Funny thing is, it can also bring out your very worst. And in one single day you might have to witness both of those things, and come to terms with it. Kind of paradoxical, isn't it?

My resignation was not accepted by the Powers that Be. Not any of them. I was immediately thrown back into the fire. I am glad they did not accept. Usually.

On the pregnancy front--I had my 34 week exam today. The doc wants me to have an ultrasound before my 36 week appointment so they can see how big the baby is. If it looks like he's gonna be a biggie, they may induce me at 38 weeks....if I want.

I don't know, do I want? Thomas was already 7 pounds at 36 weeks, and ended up being over 10. The memory of the tearing doesn't really make me look forward to doing it again. But then, there's no saying I won't rip just as bad with an 8 pounder.

38 weeks is just over 3 weeks away!

I'm gonna go on google now and try to find the pros and cons of being induced. Anyone know either way??

Moral Majority

2005-06-23T11:33:00.000-04:00

I am someone who considers herself to be a conservative, but I know that there is no such thing as the "moral majority." I do not regularly attend church or study the bible, but I do know that Jesus said, "If they hated me they will hate you," and "If you were of the world they would love you." In other words, this world will never be a place of morals, love, and deep character. We need to look within for these things and hope and pray that we pass some of it on to our children.

I think sometimes it is easy to point at one political party or another as the fools and the crazies, when both sides have more than their share. A fool is a fool, whether she be right or left.

Oh, and who cares if I got my biblical quotes from a Sinead O'Connor song? I love Black Boys on Mopeds. As a 15 year-old child, I learned a lot from Sinead O'Connor. More than anyone every learned from Kelly Clarkson or whoever.

Many of my conservative views are economic, patriotic, and cultural. It is a different way of viewing our place within the world, and in some instances, a more jaded one.

People will forever get tangled up in issues of societal morality. It is human nature to want to impose our views on everyone around us. But it is not a moot point, it does make a difference what you believe and what you find acceptable as a society. How do we prevent ourselves from becoming a nation where abortion is so widely accepted that we become like China, where baby girls are commonly aborted in the second trimester, and their fetal tissues are injected into the ailing bodies of desperate and wealthy westerners looking for any way to cure themselves of debilitating diseases? Even when our own superior science does not back any claims that this treatment will help anyone? What has to happen in me, what point to I have to come to to no longer find this practice morally repugnant?

Are television shows and celebrity endorsements enough to do the trick? If I have it drilled into my brain day after day by radio, blogs, college professors, friends and neighbors, will I begin to think that it is okay? Is that how a society changes?

Do I have to choose between a society where all abortions are okay, and one where a woman who has just been given the news that her unborn child will live only a short life on intense pain cannot be given any choice? How can I tell the difference between someone who is struggling with the most difficult moral decision of her life, and one who is morally indifferent to the life and pain of her unborn child? Am I just not supposed to care about the unborn of the morally indifferent?

There are plenty of things in this world today turn your stomach, plenty of things to see to make you lose hope. I hold onto the small part of the world where I can exercise some control, and that is in my family. Today I will love my children and try to be a good person. That is difficult enough.

I did not set out to write about all of this today, it just sort of came out at the computer. I hope it hasn't put anyone off too much.

Good Morning, Blogosphere

2005-06-22T11:10:00.000-04:00

The computer room in my house is on the second floor with a window overlooking the roof of the porch. Right now my orange cat is looking in the window at me meowing his furry face off. I would let him in the window, but I can never get this window to open for me. One of the disadvantages of a house that is almost 100 years old. My black cat is sitting on the sill looking out at him as if to say, "sucks to be you, man. Now you have to figure out how to get your silly ass of the roof."

I would tell you that the last six weeks have been uneventful, and from your point-of-view that would probably be accurate. For me, life with a toddler and a baby on the way is never quite uneventful.

Thomas is now sleeping in his big-boy bed. He loves it, of course, and it only took him one night to figure out that he can get out of it whenever he wants and crawl into bed with mommy and daddy. This morning was the first time that he has ever gone downstairs without waking me up first. I panicked when I was awoke by the sounds of his crying down in the kitchen. I bolted out of bed to find him with the mop, my cell phone, the camera, and the large bottle of maple syrup lying on the floor. From what I could tell, I had to guess that he pulled the maple syrup down on his head or his feet. I didn't find any major injuries after inspection, so all is well. He totally took advantage of his time alone downstairs to play with all of the things that I never let him have. I haven't checked yet, but I'm hoping he didn't break my camera. I already found my zoom lens to be broken under mysterious circumstances a few weeks ago...

I will be 34 weeks pregnant in 3 days, if you can believe it. Ryan is doing fine, still wiggling around in there. I can't believe I'm actually going to meet him in about 6 weeks. I already know that things will not be the same with my second child, in the same way that being pregnant has been different this time around. It used to make me feel guilty that I couldn't seem to get as absorbed into this pregnancy as I did when I was pregnant with Thomas, but now I understand that that is just the way things are. Ryan will never get the entire focus of my attention in the way that Thomas has had it for more than 2 years now. Thomas will never have it again either. That's just what happens when you have more than one baby. I know I love Ryan just as much as I love Thomas, but I don't think you can ever feel the same way about having your second as you did about having your first. In most ways, I think that that is a good thing. I am pretty nervous about having them both out here to care for, but mostly just because of logistics. I have to figure out how to take them both with me on all of my errands and I have to get more organized. I just hope I can live up to the task.

Thomas is doing better with his speech. He is finally making all of his animal sound, and even has a few good phrases he likes to use. "Oh, yuck," is one of his favorites at the moment. I'm no where near as worried about him as I was just a few weeks ago. I know he's going to be okay. He sees his speech therapist once a week, and she was very impressed by how smart he is. One of my biggest fears was that he would be labeled as slow because of his speech delay. This child is anything but slow.

I appreciate everyone's kind comments while I was gone, it was nice to have a break from the computer. I'm just getting caught up with all the blogs I read, I hope everyone is doing fine...

It Was All Just a Silly Mistake

2005-06-21T10:51:00.000-04:00

Really, it was. My husband made the computer not like us. Now it is fixed.

I haven't been on-line in something like 6 weeks. My life is boring enough that I can get away with it. I didn't mean to worry anyone, although I guess one could read my last entry as a moody goodbye. It wasn't meant to be that, just a regular-old moody entry.

I'm going to go now and find out what's going on with all of YOU. Then I'll probably post a real entry sometime along here.

All's well, really.

Maybe Eeyore Should Win

2005-05-13T13:11:00.000-04:00

Okay? Eeyore is the new apprentice. Tana gets a tail pinned on her WASP-ee behind and sent back to the corn state.
Everyone stops fighting with their husbands.
Children start talking in full sentences.
Mothers-In-Law start minding their own business and no longer accidentally refer to themselves as "mommy."
Loneliness doesn't inspire art.
Houses clean themselves.
And I am the perfect mommy.

All's Well and Oh Well

2005-05-12T20:46:00.000-04:00

Just figured I'd post, since I haven't much lately. I sorta sound like Eeyore, don't I? How pathetic.
Well, I've been fighting with my husband lately, so my mood hasn't improved much. He just. doesn't. get. it.
We come from different worlds.

I'm about to hit the 28 week mark in this pregnancy, so it is time for me to start making plans for the baby's room, etc...but tonight, I'm just going to go watch The Apprentice. I hope Tana wins.

Love you all, really, and I'm still reading all of your blogs and then some. I'm around, really.

Take care.

Well, who the heck knew?

2005-05-05T12:39:00.000-04:00

Thanks to Lala for the link.

Hinduism

63%

Christianity

54%

agnosticism

38%

Judaism

38%

Islam

33%

Paganism

33%

Buddhism

29%

atheism

25%

Satanism

21%

Which religion is the right one for you? (new version)
created with QuizFarm.com

Floundering

2005-05-04T12:34:00.000-04:00

I would like to send out a thanks to Tom Waits, for reminding me that loneliness can be a beautiful part of the human condition, especially when it inspires people like him.

I would also like to thank Mr. Waits for inspiring me. I have now decided that when my children are grown, I will spend half the day half in the bag, just for the hell of it. Why not?

I wish I were eloquent enough to explain the way good, really good, music can reach out to you like a best friend, when a best friend is no where to be found. It can help remind you that somewhere in there, beneath the unstable, barely-hanging-on wife and mother facade, there is a person, a soul, that stands alone struggling for its existence beyond the many other hats it has to wear. Maybe I should have waited to find my own soul and my own peace before becoming a mom and a wife. The trouble is, that day may never come, or at least not while I’m still in my fertile years.

In the midst of mothering I will try to remember to mother myself a little bit more...someone has got to do it, after all. I just wish there were someone who could tell me how to do this grown-up gig. I think I’m really just floundering here.

He Sings His First Song

2005-04-29T15:54:00.000-04:00

It goes a little something like this, "Ba ba ba ba, ba ba ba ba, BA BAAAA, BA BAAAA."

Allow me to translate. "Sponge Bob Square Pants, Sponge Bob Square Pants, SPONGE BOB, SQUARE PAAANTS!"

This is a big thing for my late-talker. The speech therapist thinks he is almost a year behind with his speech. After much deliberating, his father and I are going to get in touch with someone to come to the house for therapy.

Each time I have to make a decision regarding my son, I feel like the weight of the world has fallen onto my shoulders. It's such a huge responsibility. I hope I'm getting it right.

The books are going over great, by the way. I HAD to read nine books before bed time last night, most of which were from his new Sandra Boynton collection. He loves all of his new books.

Today, You Were Born.

2005-04-26T20:16:00.000-04:00

Today is your second birthday, my beautiful little boy. For me it will always and forever be the day that I celebrate your birth, and my own rebirth as your mother.

It was pouring rain on the day you were born. You came out screaming but were immediately calmed when you heard the sound of your fathers voice.

I looked at your face for the first time and knew that my life had changed forever. I didn’t know that I had been living in the dark until you were born and the world lit up. The world is a more beautiful place with you in it.

Mommy loves you, Thomas, more than the world. Thank God you’re my little boy.

A Beautiful Day For A Neighbor

2005-04-21T21:56:00.000-04:00

My neighbor is a nice older woman who also happened to sell us this house. We have talked occasionally across the backyard fence, and a few days ago we chatted for the first time in months. I explained about how sick and housebound I was for most of the winter.

She said my son runs like her autistic grandchild.

Huh?

I mentioned to her that his father and I were pretty concerned about his slow speech development and she went on to quiz me about some other possible symptoms.

Of course, she also thought my almost 2 year old was a 3 year old. A common mistake made with my tall boy.

So then I didn't sleep all night long, woke up crying at about 3 AM, wondering if there is something wrong with my baby. Because believe me, autism has crossed my mind a few times, and then I just cross it right back out. He seems so completely normal to me. There really is nothing that jumps out at you as definite autistic behavior. And he doesn't run strange, he runs like a baby. His arms sometimes flap around at his side while he's showing me how fast he can run up and down the yard. He has always been way ahead as far as his motor skills go, and he is also ahead intellectually. We had this long talk about autism with his pediatrician, and the doctor didn't think it needed any further investigation at this time. That should be good enough for me, right?

Why do I feel so pressured to have my son talking right now? Why do other parents want me to throw him into early intervention before he can even turn 2, when he shows no other signs of autism, except for the speech delay?

The neighbor's daughter (mother of said autistic child) popped in to today to talk to me about early intervention. Talking with her made me even more convinced that my son does not have the same problems that her child does. Her daughter couldn't swallow properly, she never smiled or laughed, and she had very little sense of physical pain. She also did not know how to pretend play with her toys. Thomas doesn't have any of those problems. He is a bright child who sometimes gets very frustrated with not being able to communicate.

I just feel so tired of thinking about it. I want to focus on something else. The thought of shipping my baby off to early intervention preschool to be forced into learning institutionally acceptable behavior at this tender young age is enough to make my head explode. He doesn't need to fall in line, he hasn't even had his second birthday yet. Give him a chance, damnit.

"As soon as your born, they make you feel small, by giving you no time instead of it all..." John Lennon

I'm not judging what this woman has decided as the best course of action for her child. I could tell right away she is a gentle and loving mom. But she isn't me and her child is not Thomas. We are not all the same. Not every child develops at the same exact rate. I will try the speech therapy, as long as Thomas doesn't find it frustrating, and as long as it is not damaging to his self-esteem. And I will be watching to make sure that doesn't happen. If he is not ready, he is not ready, and no amount of therapy is going to force him into being ready.

Since he was 18 months old family and well-meaning people have been pressuring him to talk, and have been pressuring me about a possible problem. I just want to love my child and let him know that I think he is the very best little boy in the whole world, no matter what challenges he may face. That's what every baby needs from his mother.

Well, thanks for letting me get that off my chest.

My neighbor also told me that the woman who lives across the street told her that my husband had left me in the middle of winter. Funny, I've never spoken to this woman in my life, and probably wouldn't know her if I ran her over with my mini-van, but she seems to have more information about me than even, well, me. Gotta love it. That's what I get for being a hermit in my world. Maybe instead of waving to the crazy neighbors, I'll just start flipping them the bird as I drive by. Give 'em something to talk about.

I also want to thank everyone who left great book suggestions. I took many of them, and he's getting even more from his Aunt for his birthday. It was really helpful and I'm glad I asked.

Baby Books?

2005-04-12T11:37:00.000-04:00

Hi out there...anyone? I have a questions. It's an easy one.

One of the things I want to do for Tommy's 2nd birthday is to update his book collection. I will probably only get a short window of time to spend alone in the bookstore making selections, so I need as much help as I can get.

Can anyone recommend a great book or books for a toddler? Maybe you had a favorite book when you were little, or you have a toddler with a great book collection. Any ideas would be most welcome.

Fluffy's Two Year Physical

2005-04-08T13:13:00.000-04:00

Yesterday Thomas had an early 2nd year physical. Everything went pretty well, he’s 29 lbs. and 36 inches tall. Big boy! This is why everyone thinks my wee toddler is a big 3 year old. Nope, just long and lean.

Ed took some time off of work to go with me because we’re having some major concerns about his speech. Thomas is a smart little boy, he knows all of his shapes and the letters of the alphabet, and he understands everything we say to him. He can identify thousands of pictures by pointing, but our little boy just will not talk to us.

I had a major breakdown after taking him to the park a couple of weeks ago and listening to the 18 month old babies try to imitate their parents. I convinced myself that there is something horribly wrong with my little one and spent the afternoon sobbing. I think it was partly pregnancy hormones.

Otherwise Thomas is fine. It is obvious to anyone observing him that he has above average intelligence. But it’s a little heartbreaking waiting so long for your lovey to call you mommy. We even explored the possibility of autism, which was heartbreaking for me even to think about, but he has no other signs of any kind of developmental disability. Thank God.

He is a loving little boy, he adores his mom and dad and grandparents, loves to give and receive hugs and kisses and is generally a joy to be around. It doesn’t take much for an adoring parent to go overboard with worry, and the closer we get to his second birthday with only a few words, the more worried I have become.

I do feel better since his appointment yesterday. The doctor (he’s great, by the way), wants him to have a hearing and speech evaluation, and then possibly speech therapy to get him on track. We don’t really feel there is anything wrong with his hearing either since he can hear me whisper to him from across the room, but it has to be ruled out.

Otherwise, it may just be his personality. He may not be ready for talking, for some unknown reason, and it may just work itself out in the next few months. But we have to take some action now so that he doesn’t find himself terribly behind in the future.

He also had to have a shot that they missed giving him at 18 months, and blood drawn for his lead and anemia check. It was a rough afternoon of wrestling the toddler, so I was really glad to have my strong and not pregnant husband with me.

Today I call to make the appointment for his evaluation, and we’ll take it from there.

The next time I see the pediatrician will be with Ryan! I can’t wait to show another beautiful little boy.

My Heart

2005-03-30T13:07:00.000-05:00

Moody Men

2005-03-29T10:47:00.000-05:00

The weekend went fine, aside from some moodiness coming from the males in my home. My husband and my son have been a bit unpredictable lately.

I’m pretty sure that in the case of my husband it has to do with his getting up at 3 AM for work every day. This makes sense to me, but didn’t stop the paranoid side of myself from worrying and fretting all weekend long that I was the reason he was in such a snit. Well, that could also be because he was taking it out on me, ha, ha, ha. Isn’t it great how we tend to single out the person we’re closest to when we’re feeling miserable? Lucky me!

My son also seems to be going through some changes. He must have gotten the memo that all toddlers get a month before turning two. It’s filled with all kinds of info about hitting, biting, and throwing temper tantrums in your reading/play group. “Don’t worry about your mommy getting too mad at you, what’s she’ll mostly feel is guilt and self-doubt, so go ahead, indulge!”

Why is it that my son is the only one at the library who won’t sit on my lap for story time? He is just not interested and wants to skip right to the toys. He also couldn’t care less about the other toddlers in the group, unless they have a toy he wants. This sends him into a fit of rage before anyone even has a chance to share with him.

This is only the third time I have taken him to story/play time. He just gets so excited when we walk through the door that he cannot contain himself. He turns into a little caveman (no offense to any cavemen who might be reading). But I’ve got to tell you, it’s a little embarrassing to be the only parent chasing their child around during the story, especially when you have to chase him around right in front of the whole group. And then when I catch him he squeals at the top of his voice, thereby directing even more unwanted attention toward us.

We finally made it through the story and onto play time. I thought we were out of the woods, but yesterday Thomas decided he needed to have whatever anyone else was playing with. He knocked down blocks, scattered pegs, absconded with trucks, and generally created mayhem. After about 10 minutes I had to take him outta their. He was having a fit because Z and his dad were playing with some cool looking trucks. They were more than willing to share, but Thomas was already in full tantrum mode. I had to get him out of there before he accidentally kicked someone.

Thomas is not old enough to care that I took him out of the play area. What I mean is, he doesn’t make a connection between his behavior and the fact that we had to leave. He just isn’t there yet. Should I try again, or give it a few months before going back? Maybe he just isn’t old enough yet. Or young enough anymore.

I just cannot wait until it is nice enough outside for him to go out and play every day. He needs exercise and fresh air. I think we’ll go for a walk outside today, even if it is drizzly and overcast.

Bigger...And Bigger....

2005-03-23T14:01:00.000-05:00

I am gaining weight rapidly. No, this is a not cute, panic-cause-she -put-on-a-little-weight, pregnancy freak-out. I am 20 1/2 weeks pregnant and have put on 25 lbs. Yes, that’s right. Even with all of the throwing-up I did, and still sometimes do, I am packing it on. Like, I’ve put on 4 lbs since my appointment last Friday.

No, this is not pre-eclampsia. I am not swollen, my blood pressure is fine. I am huge, and it scares the hell out of me. I have four months to go, and I’m only going up.

I don’t over-eat, as far as I can tell. Things like cookies and ice cream don’t really even appeal to me, with the occasional exception. I was drinking a lot of watered-down lemonade because it made my tummy feel better, but now I’m drinking strictly bottled water.

Yesterday I had pancakes with my son for breakfast, a sandwich for lunch, and then some macaroni salad around 5 o’clock. The macaroni salad made me sick, so it pretty much put an end to the eating for the day.

So far today I have had cereal and toast, a pear, a glass of orange juice, and a ham and cheese sandwich for lunch. That doesn’t sound too abnormal to me. It doesn’t sound like the meals of someone who is putting on a pound a day.

I was a fat, depressed teenager. I looked at my body in the mirror one day, and decided that I did not want to be that fat person any more. Over about 3 years, I lost 60 lbs. I became a vegetarian, stopped indulging in dessert (most of the time), and pretty much drank only herbal tea and water. There were exceptions, of course. This was really a time of mind over matter for me. It was me finding some control over my own existence, breaking away from the way my parents had taught me to eat and behave, and becoming my own person. I looked great, and I felt great.

I had already started putting on some weight before I got pregnant with Thomas. Getting married and settling down has put me back into some of those old habits. It’s tough when you’re taking care of a family. I make meals that my husband and son will enjoy, and I know that being around Ed has caused me to increase my portions. He makes it seem normal to eat four pieces of pizza in one sitting!!

But that’s not what’s going on now. I can’t explain this pregnancy weight gain. With Thomas I gained 70 lbs., but lost 40 of it within a few weeks after delivery. 30 of it stayed around. But I could at least explain that with the McDonald's and milkshakes that I like to eat when I was pregnant with him. I’m NOT DOING THAT THIS TIME and it’s happening anyway.

I cannot restrict how often I eat very much because of my sickness. I start to feel sick if I go more than a few hours without eating, and my body usually wants protein and carbohydrates to make it feel better.

I have resigned myself to gaining more and more weight until I have this baby. It will be at that time that the real struggle begins. It will be a struggle against my own bad attitude, tendency toward depression, and my lack of motivation. I need to start doing the soul-searching now, so that I can be mentally prepared for the work that lies ahead of me after Ryan is born. And it isn’t just about the weight, that is only part of the work. I will have my family, and I need to work on myself to be the kind of mother and role model I want to be for my children. Beyond that, I need to become the kind of person I need to be to be happy with myself, because ultimately I cannot be a good wife and mother if I am unhappy with who I am.

Can I do this and take care of my toddler and newborn? I will have to find a way. I will have to tell myself that I can find a way, so that I don't use them as an excuse to do nothing for myself.

It’s too bad all I really want to do right now is take a nap!

An Irish Blessing

2005-03-17T11:10:00.000-05:00

Yes, today is St. Patrick’s Day. I am almost a full-blooded Irish woman, well, except for the fact that my father’s mother has Welsh heritage, and my mom’s-dad’s-mom was French Canadian. Anyway, I have red hair and freckles, and my name is Erin for cryin’ out loud, so we won’t talk about the “others.”

When I was a little girl my mom would make us green oatmeal for breakfast on St. Patty’s day. My mom’s name is Patty, ‘cause today is her birthday. Green carnations, green frosting on birthday cake, the wearin’ o’ the green, etc.

If you don’t wear green on St. Patrick’s Day, you’ll be pinched by a leprechaun. ‘Tis true.

It used to be fun to go out and get smashed on St. Patrick’s Day. Well, okay, I had fun one time going out and getting smashed on St. Patrick’s Day. Isn’t that how all drinking memories are, though? It seems like you were having a great time, all of the time, but when you really think about it, there were only one or two times when it was actually fun. All of the other times you got too drunk and too sick, went home lonely and sad, and the bed spun ‘round and ‘round until you finally passed out. You just hoped it might be fun. Mostly it sucked and made you poor.

Tonight the family is going out to dinner for my mom’s birthday. There won’t be any raucous Irish music or heavy drinking, not for me anyway. But I will have a rowdy, almost 2-year-old on my arm, leg, head, or where-ever else he decides to climb. I just hope he doesn’t smack me in the face and knock my glasses clear across the room in a fit of rage as we’re heading toward our table like he did at the Red Robin last weekend. Boy, was that ever fun. For everyone watching. Never pull a boy away from the steering wheel of his arcade game. Not even for a balloon, crayons, and some chicken fingers.

I hope you all have a fabulous, lucky, smashing, green, warm, snow-melting, good-food-eating, no-toddler-smacking-but-lots-of-kissing, special kind of a St. Patrick’s Day today. I believe that is an old Irish blessing. Okay, so maybe it’s a new Irish blessing. Go to it!

Happy Birthday to Me

2005-03-15T10:11:00.000-05:00

Yesterday was my birthday, so I’m officially done with my 20’s and on to bigger and better things. Like my 30’s. So I’m 30, big deal.

I have actually been looking forward to turning 30 since I was about 25 years old. My 20’s were sucking so hard I just figured anything had to be better than that. I also decided around the same time that if I wasn’t married by the time I was 30, I was going to throw myself a big wedding-type party anyway, so I could get all of the good gifts. After all, it isn’t just married people who need nice linens and silverware and new towels and appliances.

I looked forward to turning 30 because I thought maybe then I can start being more comfortable in my own skin and stop looking over my shoulder to see what everyone else was doing. But damnit, I’m still looking over my shoulder to see what everyone else thinks about what I’M DOING. When does it end? When will I reach some kind of state of self-made, self-sustained, internal enlightenment? I guess it takes a little longer than 30 years. I guess I’ll give myself until 35.

My family threw me a nice birthday dinner at my sister’s house, sans my husband. He was sleeping off his horrendous work week that ended with one long 30 hours stretch of hell. I missed him, but he was up and about for Sunday and Monday with his family.

I got presents of maternity clothes, just like last year. Of course last year I miscarried two days after my birthday and ended up feeling really bitter about all of the maternity clothes that I received but couldn’t use. It was kind of like my family’s only acknowledgement that I was pregnant. Three days later it was like it had never happened, for them at least.

I found a picture of me from my birthday last year, and it took me a minute to figure out why I was looking so bleak. I think it was the combination of my husband’s grandmother’s response to finding out that I was pregnant again, (“But I thought you were going back to work.”) and increasingly feeling that something was not right with my new pregnancy.

Why the hell can’t people just say “congratulations” when you tell them that you are pregnant? Save the commentary, really. Especially when I’ve never EVER talked to you about my work situation, because it’s none of your damn business, but obviously SOMEONE (see evil MIL) has been talking to you about the fact that THEY think I need to go back to work...but then this is the SAME MIL who suggested that maybe I was never PREGNANT in the first place and that the BRIGHT SIDE to all of this is that now I could GO BACK TO SCHOOL....but I digress.

About that enlightenment...I’m feeling better than I was on Friday. I took a nap every day this weekend, and it was nice to have my husband here to look after Thomas. I think I’m just very, very tired, and by Friday, I’m just an exhausted wreck. It just cannot be helped that pregnancy is not an easy thing for me. Maybe it isn’t for anyone. I want to thank everyone who left supportive comments, it was great to come on today and see them there.

Well, since I’m 30 now, I better get my rear in gear and get organized. I have a 2 year-old’s birthday to plan, and some bills to pay, all kinds of grown-up things to do. See you later.

How Do You Know if You’re Depressed?

2005-03-11T17:16:00.000-05:00

Does anyone out there know who Elliot Smith is? He popped into my head earlier today. It’s been a long time since I listened to him, he was a better fit in my drinking and depression days. He killed himself last year.

It was a line I can’t quite remember, something like, “My feelings never change a bit, I always feel like shit, I don’t know why, I just do.” Nice. But oh, how I have always been able to relate to those lyrics.

I used to be professionally clinically depressed. I was very good at it, and I knew my job inside and out. But there came a time when I felt I was growing out of that position, and somehow I clawed my way out of the black pit.

But like anyone else who has fought with major depression can tell you, there will always be days when you feel like you are being lured back to the edge of the pit, closer and closer to the slippery edge. There is some sick romantic draw, and it gets stronger the closer you get. I think this is because the closer you get to the edge of the pit, the more exhausted and helpless you feel, it just seems like it would be easier to fall in, to just sleep, and sleep. And sleep. And fuck everything else, because you’re so powerless and useless anyway.

The worst is when you don’t even know how close to the pit you really are until you’re right up on top of it. You turn around and there the bastard is. So, just jump right in, right? It seems so easy.

But this is different, I think. I mean, I’m not sure if it’s the black pit or if I’m just sick. It would make a world of difference to me to know that I’m not suffering from clinical depression again, but that maybe it’s because I’m pregnant.

I’m sick every day. I don’t throw up every day anymore, but I’m sick. I don’t want to do anything except sleep. No matter how much sleep I get I feel like I can’t quite wake up. This makes me feel like a terrible, failure of a mother. I feel like I can’t give Thomas everything he needs, I feel like I’m failing him every day.

My house is a mess. I feel overwhelmed by it, like I don’t even know where to start. Whenever I get it under control, it’s back out of control within hours. I hardly ever leave the house. I have lost contact with friends. My husband works absurdly long hours and I feel very alone, and I feel like I can’t HANDLE it on most days. This is also how I felt when I was depressed. One reassuring difference is that I am not having any suicidal thoughts. That's good.

What is wrong with me? Is it pregnancy? Is it the morning sickness and the hormones that are taking over? Why is this so hard? Why is it so easy for some women to be pregnant, and it turns me into a basket case?

Is the answer pills? I don’t really want to take Zoloft while I’m pregnant, especially since I already take enough pills to control the morning sickness. Or is the answer just letting myself feel this way while I’m sick and pregnant, and trying to do something if I still feel bad later?

It’s just such a slippery slope for someone with a history of depression. I know it isn’t unheard of for physical symptoms to turn on the depression switch.

I just don’t know what to do some days. I know I should be happy, I have my longed-for pregnancy, my healthy toddler, my husband. Why do I feel so overwhelmed?

Ryan

2005-03-10T13:31:00.000-05:00

So Much For Intuition

2005-03-08T10:17:00.000-05:00

Yesterday was the big day, and everything went great. Of course they make me sit there with a bladder that was about to explode until about half an hour past when my appointment was scheduled, but I guess that’s to be expected.

Boy, was I wrong. Did I say boy? Because that’s what we’re having! It was awesome, watching him jump and kick, he was so active! It looked like he was doing aerobic kick boxing. He is already measuring a week ahead, but that’s just because we have very big babies. Since Thomas was 10 lbs. 1 ounce, I’m a little afraid of how big this one is going to be.

So much for this woman’s intuition. I was right about Thomas being a boy, big deal. Like I said to my sister, it doesn’t really matter much what I think if I’m wrong. I thought for sure it was a girl in there!

After thinking about it though, it may just be that I have a hard time picturing myself with any other little boy but Thomas. In my mind he is perfect, and we can’t do any better. I guess a girl was just easier for me to imagine, since I don’t have one yet.

Now I can’t wait to meet him. I wonder if he’ll look a lot like Thomas, or if he’ll be completely different. We’ve already settled on Ryan for his first name.

I’ll post a picture of the ultrasound later, I think I left it downstairs. The tech was very aloof (they usually are) and didn’t really take a lot of time to show us the baby. I guess what’s amazing to us is just another day at work for these people. I guess we just have to take what we can get!

I’m 18 weeks and 3 days today, by the way. Baby was measuring 19 weeks and 2 days as of yesterday.

Friday Again, At Last.

2005-03-04T11:40:00.000-05:00

AFP results came back,

Absolutely

Perfect.

Sigh. I knew they would.

I went to see my two newest nieces yesterday. They are beautiful, of course, and very tiny. I think they are going to have to get a little bigger before I can tell who they look like.

Everything is going smoothly. On Monday, Ed and I go in for the BIG ultrasound, the one where we hope to find out the sex of our baby.

We have another healthy, wiggling, baby. I feel good. I am the mother of two. And to think I once doubted that I would be where I am right now...everything is going to be okay. Everything is going to be great.

One Reason I Blog.

2005-02-28T14:18:00.000-05:00

I am not a people person. I think this is why the internet is so appealing to me. I can reach out and have contact without the strain of actually inviting anyone into my life and home. It isn’t that I don’t like people, it’s really because I have a hard time trusting anyone.

I’m one of those people who starts a new job, and it takes me months to tell anyone anything about myself. I don’t like putting pictures on my desk, it makes me feel too vulnerable. I guess this is because I have found that most people aren’t really interested in knowing anything about you, but they like to compare you to themselves. They like to find out if you are going to be useful to them in the future.

I don’t have a lot of faith in most people. I don’t trust people to be good, or to have my best interests at heart, whether it be my doctor, or someone to look after my son for a few hours.

I guess you could say I’m a loner, or that I only have a few people on this earth that I truly trust. I like being by myself, as long as I’ve got something to do, and over the years I have learned how to always have something to do.

I sometimes think it’s a miracle that I actually let myself fall in love with my husband. It’s like this window of opportunity opened up in my life and he kind of fell right through it. I think I knew I was going to marry him right from the beginning. I just knew, here is my life. I guess it’s a cliche, but I can actually remember the exact moment when we met, like it’s a photograph in my brain. I don’t remember feeling anything but nervous because I was starting a new job, but I don’t have that with anyone else. I don’t remember the exact moment that I met anyone, except him. He is just right for me in so many ways.

So, we’ve got each other. And our little family that we’re building. I have always envied people who can make friends easily, who have no problem opening their lives to people they have only just met. I’ve always thought that there must be something wrong with me, since I have such a hard time doing that. But I’m trying to be a little easier on myself. After all, there are all kinds of people in this world, and I’m just not ever going to be very gregarious. It just isn’t me. I didn’t learn that growing up and I don’t think it’s in my genes. The few friends that I have made and allowed into my life over the years are very precious to me as a result.

But I can’t help but hope that my children are a little more trusting than I am. Just a little...

A Little Bit of This, A Little Bit of That...

2005-02-25T21:42:00.000-05:00

I’m so relieved that it’s Friday. Yes, even those of us who do nothing but sit around all week are happy to see the weekend. I’m happy I’ll get a chance to see my husband tomorrow, happy he’ll get a chance to play with our son.

My husband got a promotion this week! It’s going to make our lives easier, not because it’s tons more money, but because we will get to spend more time together as a result. I was really feeling down because I didn’t think there was any end in site to this awful schedule. I haven’t seen my husband in days. It’s really hard on me, and I know it must be hard on Thomas. It really isn’t easy being the only one around for a little one, and I don’t envy the hard work that single parents must face each day. Being everything and everyone to your small child is physically and emotionally draining.

I went in to the lab and had blood drawn for the AFP screening today. I was avoiding it all week, but finally bit the bullet and had them stick me. I would have felt like a coward if I did not have it done. I’m the mother of this child growing inside of me, and I am responsible for its well-being. If there is something wrong, it is best for me and the baby that we know about it and deal with it. I can’t just stick my head in the sand with a what-you-don’t-know-can’t-hurt-you kind of an attitude. Usually, it’s what you don’t know that hurts you the most.

Thomas has had a slight fever for a couple of days now. He hasn’t exhibited any other symptoms, except being a little more cranky than usual. He is cutting some new teeth, but I don’t think it’s widely accepted these days that kids get fevers when they’re teething. We’ll see. Hopefully it won’t progress into something else.

I've been hangin' around a board I found for people who need to vent about their MIL. It has been pretty cathartic. I've come away with some new ideas for reminding her that I am a grown woman and will not be treated as less, particularly in my own home, with my own husband and children. Watch out!

I’m having a hard time protecting my belly from my wiggly almost 2-year old. He wants to jump and squirm all over me, and I don’t know how to tell him that he has to be gentle with mommy. He just sees me as a big play area. Emphasis on big. I don’t think he can hurt the baby, but it does kinda hurt me, not to mention the anxiety it causes. I guess I’ll just have to try harder to get the message across. I fell on my ass out in the driveway this week too. Nice.

My SIL and my brother had their twins last night! They are both healthy, born at 36 weeks. They both weighed in at about 5 lbs. 12 ounces. I'll probably get a chance to see them next week. There goes February!

Just a parting word on assvice. When a blogger requests the point-of-view of the reader, I do not think any well-intentioned response can be put into the category of assvice. Whenever I see the word assvice, I imagine some kind of torture device and a big ass being squeezed in a vice...anyway....

alpha-fetoprotein screening test this week. I am feeling ambivalent.

On the one hand it can tell me that in all likelyhood, my baby is healthy and safe, which is probably the case. On the other hand, it could tell me that something is terribly, terribly wrong with my little wiggler, which makes me terribly, terrible anxious about having the test done at all. On my third hand, which sometimes comes in handy, it could come back with a result indicative of a problem, but not really mean anything at all, which is something that I do not want to go through.

My husband doesn't seem worried at all about it, and just thinks I should get it done. But I think it is easy for him to say because he won't even remember that I'm having the test unless I remind him again.

I did have the test done with Thomas, because I was younger and more eager to have them jab needles in my arms for every test they could think up on the spot. Or maybe I was just more innocent, and more sure that nothing bad could happen to me or my children.

So I'm ambivalent. What would you do? Have you had this test done during your pregnancies? Would you have the test done if you were pregnant? Keep in mind that I do not *believe* in having an abortion. It's not that I don't believe that they exists, like the tooth fairy or Santa Claus, I just do not believe that I ever want anyone to tell me that I have to make that choice, my choice being not to. Okey Doke?

Why Does it Piss Me Off?

2005-02-21T14:39:00.000-05:00

Why does it piss me off when my MIL takes my son for the afternoon, tells me she’s going to give the exhausted child a nap, and then takes him to visit with her friend instead?

Why does it piss me off that she has given the title of Aunt So-and-so to said friend, without asking us? Call me crazy, but the only people I want my son calling aunt and uncle, are his aunts and uncles.

Why does it piss me off that she makes plans for my house, and asks people that she knows to do work on our house, without consulting us first? And then we end up trying to chase said people down to finish the work that they started? Is it supposed to make me feel better when she tells us that it took him 3 years to finish putting in her dining room window?

Why does it piss me off that she asks people that she knows to do favors for us, inviting people into our business who I do not know, without consulting us first?

Why does it piss me off that she doesn’t defer to me when it comes to my son?

Why does it piss me off that my MIL is so far up my ass that it feels like there’s 3 people in my marriage? Why does everything she does to *help* us feel more like the manipulation of a person who’s afraid we aren’t going to need her anymore? Why does it piss me off that my husband refuses to see this?

Why can’t I just look at everything she does for us, which is above and beyond the call of duty for any mother of a 36 year old man and his family, as just wonderful and generous?

Why do I feel a deep instinctual need to chase her off of my territory like some kind of a howling bitch wolf? Is there something wrong with me, or her? Or is it both?

Does anyone out there know how to set boundaries without alienating someone? ‘Cause the only way I know of how to set boundaries is to tell a person to eff off. It doesn’t seem appropriate when it’s your son’s grandmother, your husband’s mother, etc. I’m trying to be mature about it.

Oh, and moving several hours away is not currently an option. I’ve already thought about that.

Moving Forward.

2005-02-18T15:44:00.000-05:00

I've been thinking about today's doctor appointment all week. When I think about how it will go it usually includes this moment, with the goo and the doppler on my belly, and the great big dreaded nothing.

Well, I got to realize that for a few moments today. She was not finding the heartbeat. So, she decided that the doppler was in need of new batteries, and proceeded to find another doppler, one with fresh batteries.

She pushed my flab aside and started swirling that thing around in the icky goo--and nothing. Hello??? Anyone in there??? I just got to lay there on the table thinking to myself, "Do not start sobbing, do not start sobbing. If she can't find it, will I start sobbing?" And then, of course, it was there. She found my little woosh woosh woosh. And then she only let me listen for like, a second. But it was there. IT was okay. Baby was playing hard to get, probably because it doesn't like having that damn thing smooshed into its little sac.

I actually thought that I had felt the baby moving right before the doctor came into the room, but it's so early that it's still hard to tell the little baby squirms from the I just ate lunch squirms.

I didn't actually start bawling until I got in the car. And then I couldn't keep up with it because I had to pick up my son at my mil's office.

Everything is okay. Today I am blessed to be one of the lucky ones. I can keep moving forward.

Thank God.

How could something like this happen to someone like me?

2005-02-17T10:31:00.000-05:00

I just don't understand it. I'm a clean person, and I don't even let them outside. I thought this sort of thing only happened to "those" people.

My cats have fleas. They itch all of the time. The orange one is even losing some hair around his tail. I'm thoroughly disgusted with them.

My feelings for my cats have not been the same since Thomas was born. They went from being cute cuddly family members, to potentially biting, disease carrying, vermin. I mean, more or less.

The strange thing is that I've been an animal lover all of my life. I've always had a cat, and half the time my family had a dog, too. But I couldn't handle taking care of that crazy dog I adopted last summer, and now I'm starting to strongly dislike my cats too.

Maybe it's because they go into the baby's room and wake him up in the middle of the night. Maybe it's their puking. Maybe it's because my pregnancy has rendered me helpless against their pungent kitty litter. Maybe it's 'cause once in a while one of them poops in the computer room. Maybe it's because I'm still so nauseated that I can't deal with any of that yucky stuff. Maybe it's because I FOUND A FLEA ON THE BACK OF MY SON'S NECK. Who knows. Maybe I need a therapist.

I'm going to order Advantage for them on-line. I hear it's cheaper than the arm-and-a-leg they charge at the vet's.

Random Thoughts

2005-02-15T10:50:00.000-05:00

Did I ever tell you that the egg that produced this baby came from my left ovary? Yup. The tech told me that at my first ultrasound.

I think that this baby is going to be a girl. I just wanted to tell you that so together we can find out if I'm right when I go for my ultrasound next month.

I wonder which testis the sperm came from. Actually, I really don't.

And did you all see the first link in grrl's post today? It cracked me up.

Oh, and Lauren Lala, what on earth makes you think anyone in their right mind would give me a credit card?

Isn't it strange that I started this blog on day 1 of the cycle that I got pregnant? That means that this blog was started on day 1 of my pregnancy, a couple of weeks before I actually got pregnant. It's almost like I planned it. Yeah, like I had any control. Charting, mucous checks, cervical position, OPK's, HPT's, vitamins, and yet still no control.

Thomas is trying to type something on the computer. Now he's trying to turn it off. I guess I should take the hint.

I get to go to the doctor again on Friday, which means I get to hear the heartbeat again. I wish I had one of those home dopplers, but they're probably way too expensive.

Valentine's Day was fabulous. I don't miss those single days of cooking a fancy dinner and trying to be romantic--at all. It's much better to get a 2 lb. heart-shaped box of candy stolen off of your lap by your 21 month old son, who then rips it open and stuffs a piece of candy in his mouth, wrapper and all. Being married and being a family is so much better.

I mean sure, we didn't have hot sex, but I know he isn't going anywhere. Maybe we'll have the hot sex tonight. Who knows. It could happen. Or maybe we'll just wait a year, when the new baby is sleeping in more than 3 hour blocks.

I have edited this post five times. The last time was to remove a comma. Like I know where they go in the first place. Who am I trying to kid?

I don't spell-check either, by the way. However, I do have a dictionary.

Hope yur all having a happy Tuesday.

My parents have 3 children

2005-02-11T21:30:00.000-05:00

and they are about to have 11 grandchildren. We were fruitful and multiplied, as any good Irish-Catholic family should.

My son, Thomas, is 4 years younger than any of his older cousins. When I was pregnant with him both my brother and my sister declared themselves done with having babies.

That was until my SIL got pregnant a month before I had Thomas (oops). When that baby was 5 months old she got pregnant again (oops, oops), with twins. A month prior to this she had also been pregnant (oops), but miscarried. She told me, still grieving over my own loss, that the miscarriage had been a blessing. Well, God had the last laugh over that one, reminding us that only He decides what's a blessing and what isn't, and bestowed upon them the miraculous twins. Identical twin girls, I might add. She wanted a boy, I might also add. (In your FACE, SIL). Four girls, and one boy. Oh, when they are teenagers. Ha, hahahahahahhahahhahahaha! (Did I mention that it was the same SIL whose advice for me when I was trying to get pregnant was, "Just come sit on my toilet, that's all it took for me!" What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Huh? WTF?)

Tonight at the hospital with my mother, my sister gave me the news that she is 8 weeks pregnant with her third child (four total between her and her husband).

What the hell is going on here? Monkey see monkey do? I thought they were DONE!

There's this teeny, tiny part of me that finds this annoying. I don't even know why, really. I guess I thought my children would be the little ones of the family (you know, babysitters a-plenty). Now there are rugrats running all over the place. Well, I'll probably be over it by morning.

Then there was this other little part of me that thought, "Oh God, if I have a miscarriage, I'm going to have to watch my sister go through her pregnancy, and it might just kill me." I really want to kick my own ass for even thinking a thought like that. I feel like my baby deserves better than to have me think that way. I mean, that's my child's life I'm talking about.

And I get to go through pregnancy right along side my big sister. I am truly blessed.

But know this!! If they keep poppin' out the babies, Auntie isn't going to keep on buying everyone birthday and Christmas presents. I don't even have a freakin' job. I thought it was bad already with birthdays every month of the year, but now we're starting to double up. February is the only month not yet claimed, and if the SIL goes a month early, even that won't be free anymore.

And if it gets really bad, I may not even bother to remember their names.

We're gonna be up to our necks in dirty nappies!

Just a Quick Note

2005-02-11T10:46:00.000-05:00

Live from NY it's Friday morning. Not from the exciting NY, just the NY up north of that other, more glamorous NY. Hence the period on the first sentece of this post, not an exclamation point. We don't use exclamations points this far north in the winter. It's just too damn cold to get excited about anything.

My mother is in the hospital, so Thomas and I are going to make the trip to see her today. It's only about a 30 minute drive, but that's pretty ambitious for me seeing that I've been housebound for the past month. Of course, I've had special permission to leave for doctor appointments and the pharmacy.

We're hoping, of course, that it is nothing serious. At least, that is where I am in my head. I'm not the kind of person who runs through every possible worst-case scenerio just to succeed in working myself into a pointless frenzy of worry. We play it cool, until we are better informed. We--meaning me, myself, and I.

In case I don't get a chance to post again today or tomorrow, have a great weekend.

I'm 15 weeks tomorrow!

I wrote this big long post...

2005-02-10T13:01:00.000-05:00

last night before I went to bed. It was all about my miscarriage last year and how it has changed the way I feel as a pregnant woman, and how it has changed me as a person.

For some reason I just can't finishing writing that post. I'm not exactly sure why...

Maybe it's because those feelings are too intense and private, or maybe it's because I just haven't really sorted out how I feel about it.

Or maybe it's because so many women out there in blogland have written about their similar experiences so eloquently, that I don't feel like I can do it justice.

But I have this fear of not talking about it too. It feels like if I don't talk about it, people will assume it is something that I have forgotten about and pushed aside now that I am pregnant again. I will never forget that loss, even when everyone around me has. Maybe they already have.

I know that my miscarriage has made my current pregnancy seem very unreal. I had that pregnancy all planned out in my mind...I would be this far along when we went on vacation, I would be that far along at such-and-such a time...and in November we would have a baby.

Now my due date is in early August, and I keep that vision of the happy ending as sort of blurry and way in the distance. I'm not worried about my birth experience or names, I'm just worried about today. I am staying in the present.

I guess everyone deals with a pregnancy after miscarriage in different ways. Some people are terminally pessimistic to protect themselves. I guess they figure it's better to expect everything to go wrong and then be pleasantly surprised when it doesn't. I choose to be eternally optimistic. It's just another defense mechanism. If I choose to believe everything is going to be fine, it will be. But no matter how you choose to deal with your fears, there's just is no answer until you are holding a healthy newborn in your arms.

And sometimes there's just no answer. The universe can be a very quiet place when you're really listening.

I am older and wiser than I was a year ago, and I'm not sure that I like it one bit.

There's been a lot of talk.

2005-02-09T13:28:00.000-05:00

I just can't keep up. My head is spinning. Every where I look, someone is offended. There are pregnant women who are offended by women who are trying to conceive, because said ttc women don't want to gush over the pregnant women's symptoms. In fact, the ttc women find it quite hurtful at times to be exposed to said pregnant women gushing about their symptoms and sonograms. I can understand, I've been there, albeit my stay "there" wasn't long enough, I guess, for anyone to give me credit. I've shed buckets of tears over the baby I lost, and the fear that I wouldn't be able to conceive again, but so many people have had so many more tears....

Then there are the women who were ttc for a long time, got pregnant, and want to stay hanging around on boards designed for people who are still going through the pain of trying to conceive, you know, showing off their awesome beta numbers, their beautiful sonograms, the massive amounts of weight they're gaining (oh wait, that's me), etc. They are offended because these women who are trying to conceive can only take the good news up to a certain point. Then it just becomes painful. What is so damn difficult to understand about that?

Then there are pregnant women who are feeling unsure of their pregnancies, who are deeply afraid of loving and losing again, who are offended by other pregnant women who are feeling pretty good about their pregnancies. This, I can also understand.

Here's what I don't get--how the hell am I supposed to know who is prone to being offended by what? What blogs am I allowed to post a comment on?

Up until now, I have commented on a blog if I found the post was something I could relate to, or found it funny, or just liked the blogger's style. Now I'm not sure...if I'm welcome at other people's blogs...I'm not trying to be offensive...but how do I know if I'm causing undue psychological stress through the POWER of my comment?

I never leave nasty comments--ever. I've got better things to do. If I find a blog to be offensive, or I just plain HATE the author and everything he/she says, I just don't read it. Or I read it, knowing that I'm just looking to get pissed off, and leave it at that.

So if I'm only doing my best to leave cordial, constructive, supportive comments--how can I ever know if I'm being destructive and awful, and at worst, O-FFENSIVE?

Well, this is the way I see it. You can't know. And if someone allows the public to comment on their blog, they're always going to be subject to hearing nasty things, or nice things, that they don't want to hear. No one can live in a bubble. It's just a shame that the few psychos out there have to cause so much hurt to people who don't deserve to be treated with such disregard. I'm sorry that my friend, Jamie, has recently been the victim of one of these psychos.

So I'm just going to go on my merry, sometimes puking, way, commenting on blogs that I like or that I find interesting. I mean, if that's okay.

All is well.

2005-02-04T13:00:00.000-05:00

The doctor's appointment went fine yesterday, I got to hear my little one's woosh woosh woosh woosh heartbeat! You really never get tired of that. Of course, this was only the third time, and each time it happens I think to myself, "holy crap, I'm actually pregnant." I mean, after all of those months of feeling like a complete lunatic taking pregnancy tests like, every day of the freakin' month, I sometimes think that I really am just crazy enough to be imagining this whole thing.

And then there's that heartbeat. Again, holy crap. There's a baby in me. A new life. My child. It's just so awesome and over whelming sometimes.

And I'm officially in maternity clothes. I don't have that much yet, so it's still yucky sweats and the like for around the house, but if I actually have to go somewhere, I can where the cute stuff that makes me look more pregnant than just plain fat.

Oh, and just in case anyone was wondering, the blood in the vomit is pretty normal. The doctor said that it's just like how pregnant women are more likely to have bloody noses and bloody gums, a little blood in the mucous I vomit up is par for the course.

And the cramps are no biggy--she told me I could take something for the constipation if I needed to (I forget what she said to take, but I've gotten written down somewhere).

Hope all is well out there in the land of Blog.

Bloody bodily fluids...

2005-02-02T13:25:00.000-05:00

Is it cause for alarm if the scant fluids produced by your eye-bulging dry-heaving is streaked with blood? Or is this just some common capillary busting going on? Anyone?
Also, is it too early for braxton-hicks contractions, and if so, what is the pain I'm feeling every night when I go to bed? It's this uncomfortable sensation that starts at my belly button and moves down my abdomen. There are waves of them. Sounds like braxton-hicks, but it's so early at 13 1/2 weeks, isn't it?

I'll ask the doctor tomorrow, but I felt too silly for a special call. I mean, really, aren't I just LOVING all this sickness and attention? Can't I just stop being so freakin' dramatic? So what, you've been throwing up for 2 months. Get a real problem. And a job too, while your at it. Stop using your toddler as an excuse to just sit around in dirty sweatpants throwing up all day long. Can't you see that the child would, afterall, rather be in daycare than sit around with you all day while you choke down dry tortilla chips? Selfish, selfish, woman.
And what about your poor husband? Should he alone be saddled with the financial survival of this family just so YOU can have the joy of seeing your children grow and learn? I mean, aren't you being a little paranoid to just ASSUME your child will get less than adequate care at a day care facility? Can't you do anything? Aren't you employable?

Think I'm having a mini-breakdown. I mean, it's February for crying out loud. Who isn't sick of this crappy winter? Not to mention that Valentine's Day is coming up and I'm in no condition to eat yummy chocolates. I want the chocolates!! My stomach won't put up with it! How sad.

Hi ya.

2005-01-31T11:39:00.000-05:00

I deleted my last post. Afterall, there's only so long you can look at a whiny post about someone who you do, afterall, love. So, it's gone. I feel better already.

I'm 13 weeks and 2 days pregnant! Yay! I still feel pretty awful, but I told Thomas I would take him out today since it's actually above freezing. So maybe we'll try to go out for lunch.

I'm trying to come to terms with the part of me that is freaked out about being the mother of two. I wasn't sure I was allowed to have these feelings after wanting and wanting and wanting this baby so bad, but I'm pretty sure I'm still allowed to feel this way.

But I think we're going to be alright. Better than alright, I think it's going to be great. I can't wait to meet this new little person. I also felt better remembering that I felt the same way when I was pregnant with Thomas. I was so terrified of how much work it would be and I wasn't so unsure of myself as a mom. But when they are born, you love them so much more than you even imagined, and that makes up for all of those things you were afraid of. So, I'm just going to try and roll with it.

My next doctor's appointment is this Thursday, since I'm still going in once a week to monitor the morning sickness. It's been great, hearing the baby's heartbeat. It's music to my ears.

I'm off to get lunch with Thomas.

Been a Rough Week.

2005-01-22T13:03:00.000-05:00

The Zofran decided it doesn't want to work any more, and I spent all day Wednesday in the hospital hooked up to an IV. I have been so exhausted from lack of fluids and food, that I haven't really been able to do much. Ed stayed home with me on Thursday, and then his mom came over to help on Friday. I have to stop and rest after climbing the stairs. Pretty pathetic!

Not to mention, the more I move around, the more I throw up. I can't really eat much at this point, and I'm beginning to wonder how the little one in there is taking all of this. It's hard to imagine how we're all going to make it through the next six months if this doesn't let up a little bit.

What I can eat has little nutritional value. Grape soda is the only thing that makes me happy, as far as liquids go. I really feel lucky that I could think of anything that I could drink, you know, so the baby and I can stay alive.

I start every morning with two eggs, like it or not, and it takes me about 45 minutes to choke them down. Today my husband even threw in a lightly-buttered piece of toast. So far, so good. Yesterday I also managed a bowl of soup and 3 chicken fingers (throughout the day). Doesn't exactly meet the extra 500 calories a day, does it? I guess it's good I have those extra reserves (fat). I am just a little below the weight I was when I started this pregnancy, as of a couple of days ago anyway. That means I've lost about 7 lbs. so far. I have the sinking feeling that I will be back in the hospital before long.

So we're all hanging in there, and I hope you all are too. I know that this will all become a distant memory when I'm holding my little one in my arms. Let's just hope my family and I can stay sane until that happens.

New Post.

2005-01-14T14:16:00.000-05:00

No, really, this is a new post. Thank you to all who have had kind words for me during this time of illness. It really has meant a lot. Not one person has said, so far, "oh, just suck it up and be quiet." I thank you to those who refrained from giving me that suggestion.

Yesterday was Ed's birthday. He's 36. Wow. That seems so old to me. He was 29 when I met him, and that seemed old to me too. Now I'm 29, and it still seems old to me! But not for long, 30 is coming along this March.

We have been busy this week with a little project, my husband and I. It's a little something I like to call, "let's try and remember what sex was like before we were trying to conceive." Oh yeah! I completely forgot! It was fun!

It started with an argument last weekend, an argument that ended in the discussion of what trying to make a baby, unsuccessfully, for 10 months, did to our sex life. And to our connection to each other. And then of course, it evolved, into us reminding each other of what we had been missing out on....twice. I hope I'm not crossing the line for any of you reading this, but it has been a very long time since we did the deed twice...in one day. Trying to conceive sex, which some of you know a lot about, can be pure psychological torture for both involved. And this isn't the good kind of sexual torture...

I know to many of you 10 months is a drop in the bucket compared to what you have gone through or are going through. But it's also no day at the beach. If you've ever gone through this, you know what it can do to your self esteem, your faith in your body, your faith in your partner (will he still love me?), and even your faith in yourself as a woman. Now, I'm not saying that all of these things SHOULD be tied up in our fertility, I'm just saying that for many of us, these things are tied up in our fertility. Something we might not have known if we got pregnant the first time every time.

So it has been nice, really nice, to say the least. All those months I wished that I could just put aside my feelings about getting pregnant, just let go, and have passionate sex with my husband, only to find that it was an impossible thing for me to do. I'm so glad we could reconnect. I wish we had found a way to do it sooner.

Oh, and the Zofran? It helps, but I still threw up twice today, and have spent most of the rest of the day trying not to. I hope it lets up a little soon. I'll be 11 weeks tomorrow!

Hi!

2005-01-05T11:59:00.000-05:00

I'm still sick! If I put an exclamation point on what I say, does it make me seem happy about it?!
I haven't been able to come on here. Like some foods, the thought of coming on-line has been making me want to puke. But I'm having a so-so moment here, and thought I would check in with the blog.

It has been pretty hellish. Since the phenergan hasn't been working, they put me on suppositories instead. What fun! I've never had the pleasure of using a suppository before! They make you feel like you're going to go in your pants! It's a really nice addition to the nausea and vomiting.

Yesterday I had acupuncture done for the first time, as I am willing to try anything. It hurt! What do you know? He also burned my toes with some incense and told me I was in pretty bad shape because it took me so long to feel the burn. I was thinking it was because my toes were numb from being outside, but he insists I have poor kidney function. Uh, okay. Hell, it was worth a try. I'd walk on coals if I thought it would make me feel better.

I was on the table for 1/2 and hour with pins sticking out of me, trying my best not to throw up. I managed to wait until I was safely in the parking lot before wretching.

Something good actually did happen this week. I got to see my baby! My healthy little fetus, with a heart beat of 183 per minute, wiggling and squirming in my uterus. It's measuring 2 days ahead of schedule, and the ultrasound tech gave me a due date of August 6. Want to see?

Isn't he/she beautiful? Do you see those five little fingers waving at me? It was amazing, I was still surprised to actually see a baby in there, and more than a little relieved.

Ed has been awesome too. He brought me a dozen yellow roses last night, to help me feel better. And better yet, he's been helping out a lot with the baby and the cleaning. My love.

Today I start on Zofran, and I'm really hoping this is the one that's going to offer me some relief. It's expensive ($30 copay), but well worth it if it works.

I also want to say congratulations to Jennifer at Three Shades of Blue, on the arrival of her son, Miles. They are both safe, despite the emergency circumstances under which he was delivered. Welcome, little one!

Still Here.

2004-12-29T21:39:00.000-05:00

I have been too sick and too in a fog to blog. Christmas Day was awful. It was the worst day yet. We managed to get to my in-laws a few hours late, where I immediately went to the upstairs bathroom to throw up and cry.
My house is messier than ever, and I don't have the energy to even think about the kind of cleaning that needs to be done. I have settled for trying to keep the dishes under control.

And I feel sooo bad for Thomas. His mommy is a zombie, and he's been so good. I just wish he didn't have to be cooped up with me like this. I haven't left the house in 3 days. I suppose he'll be okay, since he's still a baby.

This is the worst part. I know it will be crazy and difficult after the new baby is born, but nothing compares to this.

I am on medication, sometimes it works, sometimes, it doesn't.

Good news--my insurance cards finally came in the mail. Now I can schedule that ultrasound for early next week. I haven't wanted to admit it to myself, but I am still scared they're not going to find a baby in there. I don't know what else could be making me feel this awful, so I'm just hoping for the best. Hopefully all this sick, means a healthy, thriving pregnancy.

If everything is okay in there, I won't be doing this again. I know it must get better, but I just can't see putting myself and my family through this torture again. I know Ed would have three, but I don't think it's going to happen. Two children. I hope I am so lucky.

And there's something very appealing about knowing that I am done having children. No more debate, just making a decision and living by it. There's a sense of completion. I think after spending almost this entire year very focused on trying to get pregnant, and the couple of years before that being pregnant and adjusting to parenthood, has left me completely wiped out. I mean, I think I used to be a human being, even before I was a parent. I vaguely remember having friends, a job, a haircut, and a waistline. But maybe I just imagined all of that...

I guess no matter how much you want and love your children, being a mom is just not easy. But not much worth doing is.

Yick.

2004-12-21T10:48:00.000-05:00

I have just felt too awful to blog. Not to mention, when I am here, I just go on and on about how sick I am. But it's my blog, damnit.

I'm ssssick. Hhhhelp.

Finally broke down and went to the doctor yesterday. I had to pay out-of-pocket ($115), but I got my prescription for phenergan. I haven't made it to the drug store to fill it yet, because I haven't felt well enough, and I didn't want to drag Thomas back out into the sub-zero windchill. And in case you are wondering where my husband is, he usually works these awful hours. He actually did offer to go back out a 9PM after he got home to get it filled, but I didn't want him to.

I also got my orders for blood work and an ultrasound, for the day when my insurance does finally kick in. I saw the nurse practitioner. She seemed very nice, didn't give me that condescending head nodding while I wondered aloud if there's any way I can know that this pregnancy is okay without blood work or an ultrasound. She seemed to understand. At least, that was my perception, which is what is important, after all.

She also reassured me that the fact that I have had one miscarriage does not make me more likely to have another one. "I mean, if you had had three, that would be different," she said.

So, hopefully that insurance card will come in the mail any day now.

Either way, I'm off to the drug store today. Small price for some relief from this yickiness. I have to go vomit now.

Sad State of Affairs. LINK FIXED

2004-12-20T20:52:00.000-05:00

Women are particularly vulnerable when they are pregnant. Here's a frightening and sad article about the murder of pregnant women.

The Morning Sickness Grocery List.

2004-12-14T13:22:00.000-05:00

There are a few foods that provide some comfort during this difficult time. Here's some of what gets thrown in the cart as Thomas and I are jetting through the aisles:

Haagan Dazs Vanilla Frozen Yogurt

Triscuits (original) and sharp cheddar

Raisin Bran (good for a small meal--good for the constipation)

Bagels--and cream cheese

Muffins--preferably blueberry

Ginger Ale

Grape Juice--for a quick sugar fix

Popsicles

Grapes

Apples

Sometimes, soup, if it's not too spicy. Otherwise I'll be tasting it all day.

How long can I live off of just that list?

The list might shrink or grow as the morning sickness changes. I find it's best to dry-heave before a meal. It seems to settle the stomach a little.

Remember--small meals--frequently. Being hungry will make you dry-heave, but being over-stuffed will make you wish you were, well, it'll make you regret it. Big Time.

Still holding steady at a 5 lb. weight gain. This is good. If I can keep it under 1 lb a week, I'll be doing great.

Actually, it hasn't been nearly as bad so far as it was with Thomas, but it's early. Even when I was almost 8 weeks pregnant, I can remember not having to throw up ALL day long. (I remember because that is when we got married, he he).

And for those who think I'm a big fat wimp, I don't get your "average" morning sickness. I have to be medicated so that it doesn't KILL me or the baby. When I was 36 weeks with Thomas they tried to take me off of the meds, and I was puking constantly. Every 5 minutes. Ed had to call and get me a script in the middle of the night.

Please Check out this link on severe morning sickness for more information.

6 weeks and 3 days today! Boy, it's just flying by, isn't it? Only 3 seasons to go until this baby is due.

The Weekend.

2004-12-13T13:06:00.000-05:00

Well, it was nice. We put up our tree, which looks really beautiful (and smells awesome).

I went to see Gypsy with my mom and my sister.

We watched a couple of movies, Robbie the Reindeer, The Chronicles of Riddick, which was actually pretty good (no gory violence, just good sci-fi), and Hero, a beautiful kung-fu type action movie. If you liked Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, you'll like Hero.

Last weekend we watched an entertaining movie called (if I remember correctly), No Such Thing. I really recommend it, it gave me a pretty good laugh. The end was kind of a cop-out. You could tell they were going for the look of an ending that "really makes you think," but I think it was just a cop-out in disguise. But still worth watching.

See ya later.

Snoring, Sleeping, Swearing, Oh MY....

2004-12-10T13:23:00.000-05:00

Still sick. Can't sleep at night. Heartburn. Am I going to bitch about this for the next 7.5 months? Probably, yes.

The hubby and I had one of those lovely spats that occurs in the middle of the night when you're pregnant and can't sleep and he snores like a freakin' grizzly bear. If he rolls over on his side, all is fine, because he doesn't snore when he's on his side. I don't want to stuff a sock in his mouth when he's on his side.

My husband isn't always the most agreeable person when I've kicked and nudged him in the middle of the night for the fifth or sixth time. I begged him to roll over on his side in the sweetest voice I could muster, even through the fire rising up my esophogus and the fact that I had to use all of my jedi powers toward not puking on the sheets.

At 3:45 AM, it went something like this:

Me: "Please, please, hon. Please roll over on your side. You're snoring."
Him: "I'm over as far as I can go! I'm right on the edge!" (in 1/2 asleep angry voice)
Me: "No, I didn't say MOVE over, I said ROLL over." (duh)
Him: Silence. Stays on back.
Me: "Ed, please. Are you going to roll over?"
Him: "I'm not snoring."
Me: "Oh, so I guess I'll just lay here and wait for you to start snoring your stupid head-off again. I'm sick and I can't sleep, and all I want you to do is roll over."
Him: Swears and mutters something under his breath while exiting the bed and going downstairs to make some coffee.

What? What are you looking at? He had to get up a 4 AM for work today anyway.
I stayed in bed for another 20 minutes or so before going downstairs to have a bowl of Raisin Bran. It made me feel a little better, and I went back to sleep.

He came in and gave me a nice kiss goodbye before he left, so I think everything is okay. Either that or he was like, "Better give the crazy bitch a goodbye kiss, or who knows what I'll be facing when I get home tonight." That's my guy!

Thomas had fun at the library, by the way. He didn't really play with the other kids, he stomped around climbing on chairs and pulling toys off of the shelves like he owned the place. I'm not even sure he noticed anyone else was there. That's my boy!

In Hiding...

2004-12-09T13:52:00.000-05:00

Ugh. I've been hiding this week. The nausea has started, just enough to scare me about what's to come. Yes, yes, I know. I wanted the nausea so I could believe that my pregnancy was okay. Well, guess what? I have the nausea, and I keep telling myself that it doesn't prove anything! Figures, right?

I'm fine when I wake up in the morning. It's getting out of bed that sets off the nausea. I go get Thomas out of his crib, and we go downstairs to get some breakfast. Of course, the last thing you want to do when you feel awful is stick some food in your mouth, but you have to. It's the only way to get the sick feeling under control.

I also made the mistake yesterday of eating a big tuna sandwich for lunch. After I ate it, it just sat there in the bottom of my stomach all day. The high levels of progesterone in my pregnant body cause the food I eat to just sit in my stomach, undigested, for ungodly lengths of time. I'm going to try not to make that mistake today. Maybe I'll have a little soup and bread for lunch.

Actually, it has been reassuring. The sickness means that the baby is growing, and demanding more and more from by body. It has also made me want to hide-out in the house and just let the world outside go on by. Bye. I've been wearing sweatpants all week long, not only for comfort, but because nothing else fits me right now. I can't wear my jeans because they dig into my belly. I can pretend to want to wear them for about half an hour, and then they come off.

And I'm fat. I've gained 4-5 lbs. already. I cannot gain 70 lbs. with this pregnancy like I did with the last. I don't have the luxury of starting this one 30 lbs. lighter. So, no fast food. No milk shakes.

I also can't sleep. Last night I lay in bed feeling sick and being assaulted with acid reflux. I propped myself up on two pillows with my arms limp at my sides, pretending I was in a coma. It helps me sleep. But before I got a chance to drift off, Thomas was crying. He has never been good at sleeping, and for his first 10 months I would sometimes be up with him 4 times in one night. He still gets up a couple of times a week, and it's getting a little frustrating. Sleep, baby! Twenty minutes later he was back in bed, and so was I, but then I was up again to go pee. Yeah!

I pretty much hibernated when I was pregnant with Thomas, too. It's fine for me, but it's really not okay for Thomas. He has to see more of the world than the grocery and his mother in sweatpants. Tomorrow I'm taking him to the library for toddler read-and-play time. I can't wait to see him interacting with the other babies. We tried a similar group about a month ago, but we got there only to find 4 babies ranging in age from 5-11 months old. Thomas is way too mature for that crowd. This one is for babies 3 and under, more his speed. I hope he has fun. I hope I don't throw up while we're there. I hope I find something besides sweats to wear out in public.

Oh yeah, I'm 5 weeks and 4 days today! We're getting there.

When Does Love Begin?

2004-12-06T13:29:00.000-05:00

It's snowing! It's so beautiful. The flakes are big and swirling, and the backyard is completely covered in a white blanket.

I am trying to make peace with not knowing what is going on with this pregnancy. So much has changed in me since my miscarriage last March. When I found out I was pregnant at the end of February, I still adhered to the, "a line is a line," theory of the home pregnancy test. I had a really faint line, and a couple of days later, it was a little less faint. Two weeks later it was still really, really faint, and finally I miscarried.

I look back now and I have to wonder; was I really pregnant at all? I mean, the hormones were there, but they didn't really progress past implantation. They just sorta hung at that low level. The day of my miscarriage my beta was only 27. Barely pregnant.

And if I wasn't really pregnant, I mean, if there was never going to be a baby, what was it I've spent so much time grieving over? And it has been grief. I was so devastated by the loss of that pregnancy. I was depressed for months over it. Not because I chose to be, I just had to get to a place where I felt some peace about it.

For as long as I can remember, I have believed that life is sacred and it begins at the moment of conception. Any other attempt at figuring out where it begins just falls short. Like, maybe it begins when the heart starts beating, or maybe when the fetus is viable, or can feel pain. From the very beginning, the potential for all of life is there, the potential for a first cry, or a first kiss, or a first heartbreak. The beginning of life. How can anyone definitively say, at the moment of conception, that it is not Life?

My grief about my miscarriage is easy to explain, I suppose. It was the loss of potential. It was a life that had just barely started, but a life that already had a hold on my heart. It was the loss of innocence. My innocence about my body, and my innocence about pregnancy. Things don't always work the way they're supposed to. That seems to be a lesson I have to learn over and over again. I cannot control the outcome of my pregnancy. Not that one, not this one. I can be healthy, and still suffer a loss.

I cannot control everything that happens in this pregnancy, and if I do have another miscarriage, I will likely be even more devastated than I was the last time it happened. Knowing that scares me. Because more than I don't want to have another miscarriage, I do not want to have to go through the months of trying to recover emotionally. The months of being less than myself, of not being there 100% for my son, the months or years of wondering what is wrong with my body...

These are things you have to think about when you've had a miscarriage. Not because you want to, or because you think your pregnancy isn't healthy. I believe there's a really good chance that this pregnancy will be fine. It's because you have been through it before, and you can no longer pretend that it is something that only happens to other people. It's awful to admit, but when I'm on the pregnancy chat boards, I often wonder which ones of us will be the ones to go, the ones to lose our pregnancies. Because it is common, it is inevitable, it is a part of life. It will always be a part of my life, a part of my life that is hopefully in the past.

Today I get to show Thomas the snow. It's not his first, but he doesn't remember that. I wish I could know what he is thinking when he looks out at the white world, smiling...

Goin' Ta Get Some Movies...

2004-12-03T16:09:00.000-05:00

The last few Friday nights I have spent drinking apple martinis and endulging in a smoking relapse. Not tonight. Tonight it's movies and hot cocoa. Or movies and egg nog. Yummy.

I actually think that the drinking and smoking helped me get pregnant. I mean, all those months of trying to exercise, eat right and not drink, got me absolutely zilch. So two Saturday's ago the husband and I went out to an excellent and yummy dinner, I drank way too much wine...and had an Irish coffee for dessert (no one can blame me, I really didn't think I would be pregnant this month). Mmmm. The next day is probably when implantation happened.

When I got pregnant with my son, I was living off of coffee, cigarettes, and girl drinks (mmm, whiskey sours, strawberry daiquiris)...so maybe that's just the kind of life I need to lead, I mean, for me to be really healthy. Maybe? Maybe some people die young of boredom because they only eat veggies and water and herbal tea. Or maybe, God forbid, the drinking and smoking actually did help me to RELAX? No. Couldn't be.

Lord knows my Grandma is 96 and never did a thing to stay healthy.

I doubt my doctor will find any merit to this theory.

Thursday, A Week And A Day...

2004-12-02T11:02:00.000-05:00

It's been a week and a day since my first positive pregnancy tests. I am now 4 weeks and 4 days pregnant. I don't really feel anything...but I'm trying not to let that alarm me...

I'm tired, but I'm always really tired. I have a 19 month old who does a pretty good job of wearing me out. I feel bloated, my pants are already uncomfortably tight. At night when I lay down to go to sleep, I always feel like there is a lot going on down there...

But that's it.

No beta tests to report, we won't have insurance until January, due to my husband changing jobs. I just have to sit tight and wait.

I'm trying not to take anymore pregnancy tests.

When I was pregnant with my son, this is the day I would have tested. My period was 4 days late. I didn't have any symptoms then, either, so what the heck am I worried for?

I really think everything is going to be okay.

Cheers,
Me

Give Me Some Kind of Sign, Lord...

2004-11-30T10:05:00.000-05:00

Lord, I have never prayed for you to give me another baby, not really. It seemed too selfish a prayer, and too unrealistic. I mean, if you were giving babies out to those who pray for them, there would be a lot of people in front of me on the waiting list.

But this morning, I actually sent up one of those "pleading" prayers:

Please, Lord, give me some sign that this pregnancy is healthy, that everything is going to be okay. And if it isn't okay, please don't make me wait weeks and weeks before finding out, I'm not sure if I could take it.

And finally, the only prayer that I think has real meaning:

Thy Will Be Done, Lord. Please grant me the strength and wisdom to accept your will over my own. (But I hope your will is for this pregnancy to be healthy.)

Amen.

Hello, Baby...

2004-11-28T20:49:00.000-05:00

This one looks like a keeper:

That line is getting nice and dark. About the same color as the control.

I still cannot believe it. I had a bit of a freak-out today, when I was sure things weren't going to be okay. I had some morning sickness last night when I was at my mom's (mild nausea), and when I woke up today--nothing. I didn't even feel pregnant.

As a friend said recently, we who have had miscarriages know all too well that a positive pregnancy test does not guarantee a positive outcome....but I'm going to start letting myself get attached to this baby. I've even decided on a couple of names...I think it's going to be a girl....

I felt better after taking the test--since it came out so dark...and I'm feeling the morning sickness again tonight. I guess it's going to be an evening thing for now....

I'm still in shock!

Start Playing Lotto--I'M PREGNANT!!

2004-11-26T09:16:00.000-05:00

Holy Crap. How the hell did this happen? We had sex, ONCE this month. Not very good for a couple trying to conceive--not very good for any couple. (What can I say, we were tired.) How did we manage to GET PREGNANT?

Thomas and I took a nap on Wednesday morning, and while I was asleep I had the weirdest sex dream--I would love to give you the details, but I can't remember. When I was pregnant with Thomas, I had sex dreams all of the time, so immediately in my half-crazed, trying to conceive brain, I saw this as a possible symptom. Some of you ttc women out there will know that sometimes you will look for any excuse to pee on a stick. This was mine. So out we went to Walmart to buy a few things for Turkey day, along with a 2 pak of Answer hpt's. I took it home and peed on it, feeling really stupid, 'cause I knew there was no way I was pregnant. I stared at the test the whole time, waiting for it to be negative. But it wasn't. I'll be darned. A line popped up. And a line popped up on the Clear Blue Easy I ran out and bought. And a little sign that says "pregnant" popped up on the EPT digital that I ran out and bought later. And on the EPT and on the Answer I took the next day. And on the CVS brand test I took today....you get the idea.

I want to say I'm thrilled, and I am, but I'm a little more terrified than thrilled at this point. My husband has the baby name book out, and I'm trying to mentally prepare myself for a miscarriage. I have to take a pregnancy test every day, at least once, to make sure the bean is still in there. But even then, there are no guarantees. Maybe the bean isn't in there, but just the hormones--or maybe the bean is in there but my hormones are so screwed-up, the bean won't be in there for long...

We told EVERYONE yesterday, I mean, what the hell else are you going to do with a house full of family and a positive pregnancy test? Everyone was really cautious with their congratulations...and I can't decide if that makes me happy, or sad. I kept saying, "we'll see, I guess." Nice.

But really, I guess we will see. I don't really know how else to feel, I want to rub my bellly and say, "I love you baby," but I'm terrified that as soon as I do, the baby won't be there anymore. I mean, this is as close to a miracle as I'm going to get. I wasn't supposed to get pregnant this month, the odds were all against it. So why would the baby be taken away, even after beating the odds? I'm trying to stay positive, along with my pregnancy tests.

I am happy. I am tired. I wish that I could take all of my trying-to-conceive friends with me. I am going to go rub my belly all day long and say, "I love you, baby," because if I only get a few days with this one, I want to make sure I take the time to let it know that it is loved.

I'M PREGNANT!!!! YAY!!!!

Baby Food Snob--and Proud of It...

2004-11-23T23:54:00.001-05:00

I am not a wealthy woman, I am the SAHM and wife of a blue collar man. Many people think that the latter is synonymous with ignorant, but no-sir-ee-bob, not from where I'm standin'.

My child drinks organic milk, and I don't care HOW MUCH it costs, I know it is the best for him. Pesticides, BGH, and anti-biotics are takin' a swim in your baby's regular milk, but not in my baby's certified organic milk. I have suffered the eye-rolls of many a mother who thinks I am over-reacting.

My child does not eat Kraft macaroni and cheese, which is synonymous with disgusting. That shit is not real food. There is nothing good in it. My mom is studying to be a nurse, and they've just learned that the dye they use in that crap will actually make your pee glow in the dark. Damn.

My little man DOES NOT EAT HOTDOGS. Do you know what's in that? Use your imagination, come up with the most disgusting thing possible, and add to that dangerous nitrates and other preservatives. Then you've got a hotdog.

The child of family friends refused to eat anything but Kraft mac and cheese and Hotdogs for the first 5 years of his life. Now he is having unexplained seizures. They aren't unexplained to me. Do you have to be a friggin' rocket scientist to not poison your child?

My son was breastfed, ate organic baby food, and his favorite dinner food is peas...where he gets that from is beyond me, not a big fan of that particular legume. And I feel a little snobbish about it...
is that okay??? Can I have that, huh? Can I?

It seems to me that the world's shittiest foods are marketed to little people. Children are growing and their nutritional needs are quite high. Think how much your baby's brain grows in the first five years. I'm pretty sure that feeding it only hotdogs and mac and cheese can lead to permanent retardation. I'm not trying to be cute, I'm quite serious.

Everyday it is getting easier to buy dairy and meat that is raised without antibiotics and hormones, and the more people that buy this stuff, the cheaper it's gonna get....so this is my 2 cents.

Boycott Kraft and buy a gallon of organic milk.

Love,
Me

Goodbye, Brewster, You Sofa-Peeing Dog...

2004-11-19T22:16:00.000-05:00

Yes. The news is true, I'm giving him away. I just can't take the pee anymore. He'll be much happier in his new home, there's other dogs, and big fields to play in, and no babies to compete with...it'll be great.
I am a little sad that things didn't work out. I wanted a dog, I just didn't want the dog to like peeing in my house and on my sofa so much.
Goodbye Brewster, I hardly knew ya. 3 months ago I picked you up from the pound, and it seems like only yesterday (tear, sniffle).
May I quote Bob Dylan?

Oh, I'm thinkin' and a wonderin', wanderin' down that road, I once knew a doggy, a puppy I am told, I gave him my heart but he want to pee on my sofa...don't think twice it's alright...

Tomorrow, we go for a ride...should I tell him first?

Why Do I HURT???

2004-11-18T23:05:00.000-05:00

I am my own doctor. This is due to the fact that everytime I ask a doctor a question, the only answer I get is a smile and a nod. Or maybe they've said something else, but it obviously wasn't relevant, or interesting, or even charming for that matter.

Me: Doctor Me, I have these pains in my ovaries every month after I ovulate...and I have discomfort in the area of my uterus too...could this have something to do with my miscarriage and why I can't seem to get pregnant again?

Doctor Me: Well, let me see here, (turns to computer search engine). There are a few things I'd like to look up on line...to get a better idea if you have any symptoms relevant to terrifying infertility causing diseases...

So anyway...here are some of the fruitless searches I did tonight:

Search On...Peri-menopause: Yup. This has got to be it. Irritability, insomnia, night-sweats, depression, bad hair, inability to get and stay pregnant...actually it didn't say that last thing...

Search on: Pelvic Pain Luteal Phase: This time I get some article about Late Luteal Phase Dysphoric Disorder. Oh Shit...this sounds like me too...take a look:

1.Marked affective lability, e.g., feeling suddenly sad, tearful, irritable, or angry.
2. Persistent and marked anger or irritability.
3. Marked anxiety, tension, feelings of being "keyed up" or "on edge."
4. Markedly depressed mood, feelings of hopelessness, or self-deprecating thoughts.
5. Decreased interest in usual activities, e.g., work, friends, hobbies.
6. Easy fatigability or marked lack of energy.
7. Subjective sense of difficulty in concentrating.
8. Marked change in appetite, overeating, or specific food cravings.
9. Hypersomnia or insomnia.
10. Other physical symptoms, such as breast tenderness or swelling, headaches, joint or muscle pain, a sensation of "bloating," weight gain.

Here's my favorite Magic Eight Ball Google Question:
Search On.....Why Did I Have A Miscarriage??? Search Results: Did Sacagawea Have a Miscarriage? Touche, Magic Google Eight Ball...it seems I have met my match...

My last search: Search On...cramps luteal phase (nothing fancy, to the point) Search Result: Some crazy fad low-carb diet called "Neanderthin." Someone out there really is trying to tell me something.

Me: Doctor Me, you're fired.
Doctor Me: What's your problem? You are sooo keyed up and irritable!!! I'm marking this down in your chart....

My Gay Guy-Pal Z is Pregnant....

2004-11-17T16:47:00.000-05:00

Oh-Man, have I got issues, or what? Last night I had a dream that Z and his boyfriend were having a baby. I didn't really get to the technical aspect, but it involved stealing frozen eggs from a clinic somewhere.
I guess it's even easier for a Man to get pregnant then it is for ME to get pregnant right now.

Don't get me wrong though--I really am very happy for him!!

What Color Are You??

2004-11-17T16:37:00.000-05:00

VIOLET

You surround yourself with art and music and are constantly driven to express yourself. You often daydream. You prefer honesty in your relationships and belive strongly in your personal morals.

Find out your color at Quiz Me!

My Troll Diatribe....(originally posted on the PW site)

2004-11-17T14:43:00.000-05:00

You see, I have been on this board for more than 2 years, starting when I was preggo with my son.
I have been in the ttc room since February when we decided to try for #2.
I was one of those people who came in here, only to announce my BFP a couple of weeks later....but that pregnancy ended in miscarriage in March.

Then I was on the miscarriage board...then back here, off and on...

And there are always twits...and rude people to contend with. And some people are completely ignored, and some people are ganged up on, and some people stand out and shine as a great help to everyone...it's the same all over.

I never used to get into fights, it's always very very polite...with the, "I'm sorry," and "everyone has a right to their opinion," and "just walk all over my feelings, I won't say anything,"
--But not anymore. If you come in here with your bullshit, you can just turn around and take it right back out the door...

...and it's great because for the first time ever since I've been on PW, there's actually some sincerity in people's reaction to each other...and when you're ttc for what seems like a long time...you REALLY NEED sincerity and support.

Because unless you are right in it, unless you have suffered from a miscarriage and have been unable to conceive again, you have no way of knowing how isolated and scared it can really make you feel. I think even if you went through it in the past, it isn't the same as being in it in the present...you get pregnant again...and you get a glorious pass to move on with your life.

That is why so many of us seek support from people outside of our lives, people who can help us through this difficult time, people on-line.

It isn't that you are shunned the moment you become pregnant, it is that your perspective has changed. You can no longer say, "I know how you feel," because you don't. Because to us, we may never have a healthy pregnancy again. That is where we are. And when we do get pregnant, we will move on too.

I do not hate pregnant women. Ridiculous. My lovely sil is pregnant with twins, I put my hand on her belly and feel them move, I love them, I help to think of names for them...

But I do not want to discuss the pain of ttc with her. It's that simple.

When I do (hopefully) get pregnant again, I will not come on here to offer people advice, unless for some reason it is specifically asked for. However, I will come here to say hello and check up on old friends. I will not come on here to tell members of this board that they aren't posting in the way I think they should. I will not come on here and say, "I know how you feel...etc."

So before you come on this board, or any board for that matter, with the sole intention of putting someone down, loading someone with blame, giving out unsolicited assvice (as Jamie would say), take a moment, and realize that there are women here who are going through a very difficult time. Women who know more about getting pregnant than most people will ever have to know. And then ask yourself, "is this really going to help, or am I just in desperate need of attention?" and then go find someone else to bother.

It Smells Bad at the University...

2004-11-16T16:11:00.000-05:00

The smell hit me the moment we walked in the door today. "Yuck," I said to Thomas. I know most of the people we pass as I push Thomas in his umbrellas stroller do not have children, so they must think my talking to him is a little like talking to a stuffed animal, or some other inanimate object. They do not know that Thomas can, in fact, understand almost everything I say to him. I'm sure he understands when I say, "it's stinky in here." And it does stink at the University.

I might not have ever noticed just how bad the stink is if it weren't for Thomas. When you're pregnant, your sense of smell is something like that of a bloodhound. I never knew before just how many really bad smells were out there before I was pregnant. The campus center at the U (which also houses the food court, cafeteria, book store, and financial aid), is the epicenter of stinkiness. It must be something they put in the institutional cafeteria food....

I am trying to go back to school in January. I was excited with this idea and all of the possibilities this morning, but now I feel apprehensive and sad. God, I am so friggin' moody. No wonder I can't get anything accomplised.

I want to go back to school, because I have to have my master's degree in Library Science and my teaching certification before Thomas starts kindegarten in less than 4 years. Not a bad deal, right? But what if I get pregnant again in the middle of the semester? Worse yet, what if I don't???

There are financial considerations to the chosen timing of our second child. My husband and I agree that I should stay home at least until our children are in school. We wanted them to be close in age so that it wouldn't be 10 years before I can start working again. What if it takes years for me to get pregnant again?? Won't we have to give up eventually, for financial reasons??

So, I'm ambivalent. But steadfast. I think. Maybe not. I need a stiff drink and a prenatal vitamin...

Luckily for me, I have the most wonderful husband in the world. I know he wants another baby too, and we will find a way to make it happen. It looks like I'm going to have to become a slave-driver when it comes to the sex...if I can stay awake long enough....

Missed the Egg...Again...

2004-11-15T14:26:00.000-05:00

Uugh. I ovulated yesterday. Bummer. We didn't manage to have sex AT ALL this weekend. Shit. It just didn't happen. I am trying not to blame my husband, even if it is his fault...I mean, poor dear. He spent all day yesterday raking the leaves and mowing the lawn. Thomas took a really long nap too, perfect for some afternoon hanky-panky. But the leaves...and then he was so exhausted from working outside that he fell asleep on the couch...and then went to bed and fell right back to sleep.

I was planning a sneak attack for later that night, but while I was busy planning I fell into a deep and satisfying sleep that involved a dream about a man who once had a huge crush on me. I dreamed that somehow I ended up dating him, even though I wasn't attracted to him at all. Then I stared up at the ceiling this morning thinking about all the different paths I could've taken in life...but I digress...

This morning's temp rise only confirmed what I pretty much knew--I ovulated yesterday.

We did have sex 3 days prior to ovulation, which leaves an infinitesimal chance that I did manage to get knocked-up. This is if there were some sperm still lingering in some fertile corner of my fallopian tubes. If they even have corners. I keep imagining one sperm just hangin' out in my tube, waiting patiently while all the other spermies are long gone. Playing solitaire, smoking cigarettes, maybe leaving graffiti. Just waiting, until the egg comes rollin' on down, and BAM! magic. That's all it takes. Is that so much?

So I think my chances are akin to winning the tri-state lotto jackpot. Hey, someone's gotta win, right? A dollar and a dream.

My Family on Christmas

2004-11-12T15:06:00.000-05:00

My Family on Christmas,
originally uploaded by ErinMary.

This is my brother, me (the red-head in the middle), and my sister. Outside of my husband and my son, they are the two most important and influential people in my life.

My brother is an investigator with the State Police, and my sister is a Registered Nurse.

I love them dearly.

Wanna Buy a Knife?

2004-11-12T08:02:00.000-05:00

Have you ever seen the movie 28 Days Later? It's a sci-fi/horror flick where a disease called rage ravishes Britain and the remaining survivers are cut off from the rest of the world to fend for themselves. You can tell immediately when someone has rage because they start to puke blood and their eyes turn red. They also run around in stop-gap motion with their arms flailing, trying to tear apart anyone who is not yet infected. T'was a silly movie.

It may have been a silly movie, but there are times when I think that I too am infected with rage. I can be quite frightening when I've had a long day, or I didn't get a good night's sleep. Just ask my husband, or my sofa-peeing dog. Who needs a horror movie when you already live with the infected?

This brings me to my point (sigh of relief from all). My neighbor called me a few days ago. She's a nice lady, just retired last summer, etc...and she has our phone number in case of emergency; like when our cats sneak out and get marooned on her shed, or when the sofa-peeing dog gets loose and runs down the street chasing squirrels. So she called, but it wasn't an emergency. She wanted to know how I got my zinnias to grow so tall, where I got the drapes for the back-porch, and if her friend could call me to sell me some knives. What? Knives? Uhh...(a twinge of rage is rising in my blood...I hold back, neighbor lady) sure your friend can call, no problem. We hang up. I forget about it, and the knives...

Well, last Sunday morning, my rage was showing. The baby had been up during the night, I was having insomnia, and we, I mean I, had to rush around and get ready to go to a birthday party. Ed decided to sleep in and let me take care of the baby and then get up and plop himself down in front of a movie (thanks, luv). It was one of those days, and I'm sure you know what I mean, when you feel sooo awful from lack of sleep, that you could just melt down into a puddle of sobbing exhaustion, but you do the dishes instead because you don't want your in-laws, who are coming to pick you up, to find out what a freakin' slob you really are.

Around 9 AM, the phone rang. We ignored it, because we don't know anyone who calls at 9 AM on Sunday, so we figured they could leave a message. About 20 minutes later, it rang again, and I picked it up. It was the knife lady...at 9 AM on Sunday morning...the second time she had called in 20 minutes...on Sunday morning...my eyes turned red and I think I started puking blood...it's kind of a blur now. Needless to say, she won't make the mistake of calling here again. I'm not sure what I said, but I have this feeling like I did something bad...like a werewolf must feel the morning after the full moon...

I know I have a temper...it's the kind that rises fast and fades away almost as fast...but a stranger calling to sell me something at 9AM on a Sunday morning? And ignoring the fact that we didn't answer the first time, and calling again??? Was I wrong to be so pissed? I wish I could be more secure in my rage. You know, learn to love the beast inside...

Wrong Sex, Wrong Time, Wrong Place....

2004-11-11T13:47:00.000-05:00

"W" stands for wrong, right? Whatever...I would just like to remember what it was like to have sex with my husband without wondering if we're going to get a baby out of it. And if we're not going to get a baby out of it, what's the point?

I love my husband with all of my heart, he is the love of my life and I find him to be very attractive and sexy. But my brain has been hijacked by the need-to-conceive. There was a time when having babies was the furthest thing from my mind when I was, uhhmm, with my husband. But now it has become an insane habit to immediately calculate my cycle day and chances of possible conception if my husband seems to be even slightly interested in having sex...

I'm not supposed to be worrying about this this month...but like I said, it's a nasty habit...a nasty habit that doesn't seem to be helping me to get pregnant. It's like the sperm can sense my desperation and immediately wither and die. Or my egg just refuses to come out and play under these hostile circumstances. I can't say I can blame either of them.

I'm sure the only medical procedure that can really help me get pregnant is a lobotomy.

Picking Apples with Dad

2004-11-10T16:52:00.000-05:00

Picking Apples with Dad,
originally uploaded by ErinMary.

Here's a picture of my two favorite guys...

Some Details...

2004-11-10T15:52:00.000-05:00

I have been blogging for what, a week and a half now? I've been meaning to get down and dirty into some details and just haven't had the chance. So now the young man is sleeping...I have no excuse.

Yesterday's poem was to mark the day that I would've given birth if I had not miscarried in March. I really like that poem, and it was the most appropriate words I could find, even when I include my own words. I don't really want to elaborate, I trust the poem to do my talking. The rest is private, so private even I have yet to articulate just what it means to me.

Today I almost bought an OPK (Ovulation Predictor Kit), but I stopped myself and made it out of the store without one. I just need a break from the constant wondering and waiting and self-examining that goes into trying to conceive, month after month after month...

...and I think something changed with my due date having come and gone. It's like another chapter has closed in my life, for better or worse. A little at a time I let go of the, "I should be this," or "I should have that," or "what if it hadn't happened..." and so on. My life is GOOD. I wake up in the morning, put on some coffee, give Thomas his breakfast, we curl up and watch some cartoons, my GOD it is a dream come true.

Yes, I still want another baby, and the time may come when I have to see a doctor (or doctors) in order to make that happen for us. But today, I am okay, being a mommy of one. Tomorrow I may feel different, but right now I'm alright and that's what I need to focus on. And I've been so half-arsed with temping and charting this month. I don't even know what cycle day I'm on. My sister-in-law has 5 kids and she doesn't even know what your basal body temperature is. So maybe instead of the temping and the OPK's and the charting, etc., I should just tell my husband that we have to have sex every day. My God, I'm exhausted just thinking about it. And I can see him trying to find a place to hide....

There's no where to hide from me!!!!

Crazy Dog

2004-11-10T11:59:00.000-05:00

Crazy Dog,
originally uploaded by ErinMary.

This is my dog, Brewster. We picked him up from the pound a few months ago. His tag said he was great with children and cats, and that he was house trained. Yeah, right. Every dog in the pound is innocent, right? They didn't say anything about how he loves to pee on the sofa!
We are currently working with this 1 1/2 year-old Australian shepherd, to teach him that peeing on the couch will not help him to make friends.

People

2004-11-09T11:50:00.000-05:00

by Yevgeny Yevtushenko

No people are uninteresting.
Their fate is like the chronicle of planets.

Nothing in them is not particular,
and planet is dissimilar from planet.

And if a man lived in obscurity
making his friends in that obscurity
obscurity is not uninteresting.

To each his world is private,
and in that world one excellent minute.

And in that world one tragic minute.
These are private.

In any man who dies there dies with him
his first snow and kiss and fight.
It goes with him.

They are left books and bridges
and painted canvas and machinary.

Whose fate is to survive.
But what has gone is also not nothing:

by the rule of the game something has gone.
Not people die but worlds die in them.

Whom we knew as faulty, the earth's creatures.
Of whom, essentially, what did we know?

Brother of a brother? Friend of friends?
Lover of lover?

We who knew our fathers
in everything, in nothing.

They perish. They cannot be brought back.
The secret worlds are not regenerated.

And every time again and again
I make my lament against destruction.

Bad Dreams...

2004-11-08T15:13:00.000-05:00

Last night I had a nightmare that the world had been overrun by angry man-eating dinosaurs. Wave after wave of bigger and bigger dino-monsters ran over the land killing every person they ran into. Sounds like a really bad horror flick from the '70's, doesn't it? That's because the one thing about the dream that I cannot relate to you is the terror I felt when it woke me up in the dead of night.

The dream itself is kind of silly. We went to a birthday party yesterday for Ed's 5 year-old cousin and the dinosaurs were not in short supply. I'm pretty sure this is how they ended up in my dreams. So how did I take a cute little plastic dinosaur from a birthday party and turn it into the end of humanity? I have a very vivid imagination. And I have very real fears.

The couple of weeks following Tommy's birth, I was a basket case. I know this is completely normal, especially for a first-time mom. I had almost no sleep, my body had been through a difficult ordeal, and I had this little baby depending on me for everything it needed to stay alive and healthy. But there was more to it than that. The day we brought Thomas home from the hospital, I barely recognized the world going by outside of our car. It was as if my whole life had been in black and white, and now I could finally see the color. It was dazzling, breathtaking, and it was completely terrifying.

Now that I am a mom, I know fear in a way that I never wanted to know it. The world is an unpredictable and terrifying place where people do things to hurt each other that you and I could never imagine that anyone could do, and yet they are done. I feel so helpless sometimes. That is how I felt lying in bed after waking up from my dream. We are so vulnerable, so soft, just lying here under the sky. In my half-awake state I wanted to take my baby and my husband and hide us away some where safe. But where?

Today in a land very far away from here there is a mother who is mourning the death of her child. I know it, I can feel it. Our troops are bombing and moving into a city where people live, where a child is just learning to talk, or needs his diaper changed, or wants a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, or a nap, or to touch his mother's hair. There are no dinosaurs in that city, only the reality of guns and bombs and hatred. The reality of nowhere to hide.

I do not want to think about these things, but my dreams won't let me pretend they are not there. I will not raise my child to be fearful. I will carry that burden for him as long as I can. Probably until he is a parent, when he too will understand the fear that no one has to teach us. The fear for the safety of your child. I hope to God that this war we are fighting is just, if there is such a thing as a just war. I hope it creates a democracy in Iraq, I hope in the end it makes the world a more peaceful place. I hope wars stay far enough away from us that I don't ever have to wonder if my child's life is worth the fight.

I pray to God for the parents and children of Fullujah, of Sudan, of Ivory Coast, of Russia, of Chechneya, of wherever the fighting and the horror is going on today. This is the bond of humanity that crosses all cultural barriers. May your children be safe with you tonight.

Lady of the House

2004-11-05T22:24:00.000-05:00

funkyflower

2004-11-05T16:29:00.000-05:00

funkyflower,
originally uploaded by ErinMary.

A Quiet Little Day...

2004-11-05T15:00:00.000-05:00

That's today...Friday, November 5, 2004. My son is babbling to himself in his bedroom next door in protest of nappy time. He hasn't really started talking yet, and what he does say sounds a little like he's speaking French, "Ba ba, we?" Yes, Thomas, I think so.

It's quiet today, it's sunny, it's raining, it's windy, and it's cold. November. November is a month that can't quite make up its mind what season it wants to be. We've had a little taste of everything in this day.

I have cleaning to do. There are multiple coffee rings on the computer desk. The room that will someday be a new baby's room is full of clothes that are now too small for me and boxes of books. I've cleaned it out before, but it just keeps getting filled back up with more junk. A testament to how this baby making stuff is going.

The books used to be my most important possession. In fact, they used to be my only possession outside of the mattress on the floor that was my bed, and a high-milage red Toyota Corolla that I totalled on my way to one of my crappy jobs in 1998. That was back when my husband and I were only dating and he was still in his rock and roll band. Now he plays exclusively for his two biggest fans, the baby and me. We don't watch TV, so entertainment has gotten more creative. We decided when we moved into this house that we didn't want to call the cable man.

Up to a few months ago my husband worked like a dog. He worked 6 days a week for over 12 hours a day and we rarely had the chance to spend time together as a family. It was tough and exhausting for everyone. For him because he felt the huge burden of being the sole provider for our family, and for me because I was the sole provider of love and parenting to our son. Now he works in a job where he's paid a little less, but he always gets the weekend off. Oh, what a difference a day makes. Our time together is so precious, we weren't, and still are not, willing to give any of it up to really bad television programming. It's so easy at the end of the day to flick on the TV and get lost in a world that is totally disconnected from reality. A little too easy. So we flicked it off for good. Thomas, however, has an extensive library of educational and entertaining videos.

Now that the weekend is here I probably won't be a-bloggin' until Monday, unless there's a lull in the family activity. Like TV, the computer has to be used in moderation. That room might never get cleaned out again, and those coffee rings might become permanent residents of the computer room if I don't learn when to say when. "Uh-OH, WOW!" I hear Thomas say from his room next door.

Thomas at 20 weeks gestation...

2004-11-04T16:42:00.000-05:00

Open Letter to the Dean of Undergraduate Studies...

2004-11-04T10:03:00.000-05:00

Dear Ms. Dean,

Okay, so I've made a few mistake (clear throat), umm, a few errors in judgement shall we say? It is essential that I clarify my reasons for having such a spotty record at the University.
I was working in an office, a job in a string of jobs that I didn't like. It was the best paying job I had ever had, or probably ever would have without the benefit of a degree. I hated that job. So a few months into it, after watching my boss throw herself on the floor and have a sobbing fit, I knew it was time to quit and go back to school. It was a big risk at the age of 27, but I saw no way around it, and I saw no way I could stay in that cubicle with that boss throwing fits at my feet.

My first semester was incredible. It was really tough, relearning how to write papers on dead-line, there were tears of frustration and fear, but man, I pulled through with flying colors and a better than 3.8 GPA.

I kept on through the summer and earned two more A's in the classes that I chose for that term. And then at the end of the summer, just before the start of fall classes, a surprise miracle happened. I was pregnant. This was not a plan, but it was a very happy surprise. I mean, I was 27 years old and not getting any younger. My prime baby-making years were already behind me, and I always knew I wanted to be a mom. Besides, in this open-mined day and age a woman could, no, was expected to do everything. I didn't see why being pregnant should change any of my plans about earning a degree.

About six weeks into my pregnancy and a couple of weeks into classes, I started throwing up--constantly. Morning sickness is a misleading misnomer. This was all-day everyday sickness and it didn't let up until the day my son was born. The medication they put me on did keep me from vomiting most of the time if I ate constantly, but it never kept me from feeling ill. So, needless to say, my attendance began to waiver. I had to fight with my Feminist Lit professor to keep her from failing me based on my poor attendance, despite reassurances from her in September that she "understood my plight and hoped to see me in class." She took her revenge on me by giving me a "D" on my final paper when I had earned all A's up to that point. But no matter, I plugged on and finished a respectable semester.

My baby was due in April, and the semester ended the first week in May. I saw no reason why I shouldn't continue (carpe diem, right?) with my studies up until the point I went into labor, and then come back and finish my final exams after my baby was born. Boy, I had it all figured out. I mean, you read about those women who do this kind of thing all the time, right? Isn't there some country where the women only stop working in the field long enough to push out their babies and then go right back to work? No problem. On to the next semester.

Okay, it's the beggining of April, and I am so huge I can barely walk. And forget about fitting behind the desks at school. My baby starts kicking like crazy the moment I try to squeeze him into one of those seats built for petite little teenagers who can't figure out what I'm doing in their classes. And not only is it difficult to walk, but it actually hurts to walk. My pelvic bones are stretching and opening to prepare for labor, and it HURTS! And what if my water breaks in the middle of lecture? As if I'm not enough of a freak-show already. You can see where I'm going here--and it's not to class until the moment I give birth. It's home to the couch where I can wait out my last few weeks in relative comfort. I mean, I'm not crazy, afterall.

I had every intention of finishing the two incompletes I left behind me in that semester. I asked for extentions, I wanted to study, I thought I could. I feel so bad about it. Ashamed, really. But guess what--being a new mom was A LOT harder than I thought it would be, and I loved my little baby even more than I could have imagined. Way too much to just leave him with a sitter to study. He was a breastfed baby and he couldn't be without me for more than a couple of hours, and I couldn't be without him for even that long. So it was painful for me to leave him to go back to school when he was only four months old. But women do this all the time, right? They go back to work after six weeks if they're luck enough to have that much time, so who was I to feel like my baby and I deserved to be together? So I signed up for another full-time semester.

It was a difficult few months. I took classes on Tuesday, Thursday, and Monday night. And they weren't lite classes either. My first class of the day was Lit of the Sublime, and then on to Israeli Politics, then a 20 minute break to pump breast milk in the second floor ladies room, and then back in to Public Policy. It's no surprise to me that I left my Public Policy class unfinished. I don't think I had anything left by that time of the day. But I am still proud that I did very well in my other three classes, including the Russian Film class I attended on Monday nights. It was a good semester, even with the one incomplete. I decided that the answer was only taking three classes a semester, so that is what I did.

I cleverly signed up for an on-line class about Latin Music (how could I go wrong?), I cross-registerd for an evening class at Hudson Valley (it was near my house), and I took one class that I knew I would love, Shakespeare.

The first to fall was the on-line class. I couldn't figure out the discussions and how to properly participate, and I couldn't scheduled child-care for a time when I could work on the class. It fell to the wayside. Then my husband and I decided to begin the process of buying a house and it happened a lot faster than we expected. It was stressful and required a lot of leg work. And then something happened that effected me more than I knew that it could--I had a miscarriage in the middle of March. I was sad and distraught, emotionally, hormonally, and psychologically. March turned into April rather quickly, as it has a way doing, and I was hopelessly behind in my Shakespeare class. There would be no catching up. The only class that survived was the Labor History class that I took through Hudson Valley. I got an A.

It was time to take a big step back. My life had been so blessed and had come so far over the past couple of years, and I had just been running along as if not to be run-over by all the changes. I was disappointed and depressed by my lack of progress that semester. How could I let this happen again? I'm not 18 anymore, I have responsibilities, I have a passion about my education, about making life better for my family. I decided not to take any summer classes. I decided not to take any fall classes. I had been so worried about what everyone would think about me as a person if I just admitted that I couldn't do it all, that I just needed to stay home with my son and make our new home a nice place to live and grow. I didn't want anyone to think I was lazy, or that I was taking anything for granted, or getting more than I deserved. Shouldn't I be working, or going to school, or doing something "besides" raising my child? The answer I kept coming back to was no, not right now. My first and only priority had to be my son, myself, and my husband. There would be a time and a way to go back to school, and I would wait until that time was right.

The summer and the fall have been busy, despite not taking any classes. I painted most of our house, worked on the yard, and just spent a lot of time thinking about and caring for my son. I have learned what it takes to get dinner on the table at a reasonable time, how to grocery shop without having to go back out every day for something else, and how to orchestrate a routine that my child and I are comfortable with. Most importantly I've learned how to drop everything for my toddler when he needs someone to play blocks or read a book. I am a mom now, and it requires from me an entire new set of skills that I didn't know I could nurture within myself.

Babies Really DO Come From Heaven....

2004-11-03T16:14:00.000-05:00

I may run the risk of sounding too trite too early in the life of this blog, but I do not care. I had another epiphany today (have a lot, thus the blog), and it has to be shared.
I am a normal mother of an extraordinary child. I know most people probably feel this way, but for me it is so true. Everyday I hope that I can make my child's life even a little bit as wonderful as he makes mine. I know that I come up short, as every parent does, and that he will have to wait until he has his own children to understand how it feels when I hold him in my arms. It is enough that he is happy.
And we've all heard it before, "children are gifts from God." And who also hasn't felt, in a bad moment on a bad day when you're simultaneously having your hair pulled and your shoulder bitten by a toddler in the throws of a temper tantrum, "Yeah, right."
But this morning there weren't any tantrums, and there wasn't any broken skin or clumps of pulled hair, only giggles and cuddling and kisses. And the smell of my baby--is incredible. It isn't his baby lotion or his bath bubbles or special detergent that make him smell this wonderful--it's him--it's his smell, and I think it's the smell of heaven.
When my son was born I remember telling my husband that the baby was very wise. "We know everything when we are born, and it's all backward from there," I said. I believe that it is true. Children really are gifts from God. And it is our job as parents to take care of these gifts, and to bring them into adulthood as undamaged as possible, as they were when they were given to us. I hope God gives me the strength to be a good mother to my boy. I could use all of the help I can get.

Today is the first day...

2004-11-02T19:31:00.000-05:00

of the rest of my life. I am welcoming myself to the blogging universe. I come in peace, to shed my thin skin and everything that sticks to it. This is my blog. This is me, this is the skin I'm in.

This is not my first attempt at blogging. I started another blog a few weeks ago and promptly forgot my screen name and password. I am thinking that this one will out-last that one. It was a trial really, I brought it home to see if it fit and I lost the receipt. And the bag. And the item. So here I am trying on a new one. I like it already. I feel better already. I'm like that you see, I lose things so easily, my keys, my thoughts, my manners, my neat hair and clothes. All gone.

I am here for a purpose. I need to tell you that I belong to a club that doesn't even know I exist. But I know they're out there, those of you who are losing your minds trying to conceive. Those of you that have lost pregnancies, like so many sets of car keys, like manners, neat hair and clothes, like thoughts.....like a thought. It's been almost 9 months since I lost my baby at 6 weeks gestation and now it feels so light and airy like a thought....or a dream. I used to have terrible dreams that my husband had left me where I would wake up crying the most desperate tears, and for half of the day I would feel a little insecure, a little unsure of reality. That is what this feels like sometimes, like I am perpetually waking up from a bad dream feeling a little, or more than a little, insecure.
....and my period came today. One day late. It was giving me a little tease....."maybe you're pregnant and the hpt couldn't pick it up".....my body whispers. And than BAM...blood. Lots of it too. Like so that I couldn't make that mistake that I could still be pregnant in spite of the bleeding....

So it's the first day. The first day of a new cycle trying to conceive. I wasn't even going to start this blog because I was going to be pregnant and it was going to be pointless and it was going to be beautiful and it...well, it isn't that.

I know we can do this because I have the most beautiful little boy you have ever seen in your life and he is 18 months old. He was conceived the first time we tried by the way....I hope you will stop in now and then and follow my journey....
-Erin