Down at Fraggle Rock

My Happy Place

2017-08-28T07:58:00.001-04:00

This is my morning coffee view today. It doesn't suck, huh. I'm in my happy place. I felt out of sorts all Summer long. Adjusting to a newborn, life with two, the fun that is the postpartum body... those things I can do. But this was missing. I didn't feel complete. This wasn't my summer. We normally go down to the Island the beginning of July, but with the arrival of our sweet angel baby, we needed to make some adjustments. It's weird being here in August. The weather is different. Gorgeous, but not quite beach weather. I think I need to come down a week in July and another in August. Maybe some weekends in May and September.

Every year I find myself craving this place more. It's a little funny because it has only become harder to get here.mWe have to pack more things, work around more schedules, pay more money. The harder it is the more I want it. This place is my home.

It's Addy's first trip here, obviously, but I honestly feel like this is John's first trip here. He's old enough that I really thinks he gets it. He was pumped to come, waking up at 4 AM on Saturday asking if it was time to go on "vacation" yet. He wanted to see the boat and the "lotion birds" (ocean birds- he's already starting to say the word right and it makes me sad). It took him a little to get used to being somewhere else and to realize that we weren't going home, but he loves it here. The beach, e constant outside time, having Mom AND Dad home 24/7, plus my mother is here. My father and brother will be here later. 24/7 with the John fan club is pretty much his tiny life's dream.

My sweet Addy girl though, she is HOME. We keep catching her just looking around smiling. She smiles with every single inch of her face. This huge, all encompassing smile. She caught her first experience of the ocean breeze and she loved it. She has no idea he deep her roots run here. That her namesake is written on the house. That she is a 4th generation Gilmour girl and the island blood runs in her veins. I've been excited to show my kids the island life that I grew up with, to revisit my childhood with all of the special places that we visited, but there's something different with her. I'm not sure what it is.

Funny enough, I never saw myself with her. When I envisioned my life, there was the possibility of a girl, but I more felt suited for boys. I felt it in my bones. I'm not sure of my hesitancy for a girl. Maybe I remember how hard it to grow up being a girl. Or how hard I imagine it to be raising a girl. The deck is already stacked against her. We can talk about equality and girl power all we want, but this is a man's world and we're just living in it. But, now that she's here, I can't imagine my life without her.

It's funny to think of being here last year and the fact that she didn't even exist yet. We were trying, but it was new and we hadn't started to face our heartbreak yet. We were still terrified of the unknown, but hoping it was all a fluke before and we were worried for nothing. We had no idea. And now here she is.

I read a story written by a woman once, who had two miscarriages. She had a girl, two miscarriages, and then her little boy. Her son at some point found out about them and as his brain started to process it, he started noticing families with four children. He kept pointing them out to his mothered saying that could have been their family. The mother tried to find a way to tell him that if she didn't have the miscarriages, that he wouldn't be here. That there never would have been four children, there would only ever have been two. Still grieving over the loss of her two babies, the other found it even harder to imagine her life without him. Her son. She knew he had been meant for their family all along. She imagined that those two babies were him, he just fought hard to come back until he could stay.

I read that shortly after John was born. When Alex and a I were still trying to process everything. We knew he was a fighter and it gave us peace to know that. Like he had some sort of super powers. When we lost the two babies before Addalyn, I just knew this baby had to be something special. When I found out she was a girl, it took some time to process, but when I thought about her fighting to come back three months in a row I relaxed a little. This girl was going to be a force to be reckoned with.

As a mother, you always worry about your babies, forever. Not to say that Dads don't, just that they are a part of you and then all of a sudden you have to get used to them being on the outside and trusting other other with them. My mom describes it as your heart walking around outside your body. Now you have to worry about the outside world and what is going to happen to them. I know my kids are fighters though. Strong willed. Stubborn. Smart as hell. They'll be ok. This world won't break them. I just know they will be something great. That they will be a little bit of light in this dark world.

And so, while I sit here, admiring my view. In my happy place. Listening to John run around crazy and Addy asleep in her swing. I want to remember this moment. When they were so little and I can still ponder the absurdity that I ever existed without them, these tiny pieces of my soul. When we get back to crazy life, where I have to worry about schedules and chores, all of those responsibilities that get in the way of me spending this time with my children, I want to remember this. These moments. My happy place, with my tiny sweet hearts running around. Safe in my happy place bubble.

Welcome, Our Sweet Addalyn

2017-08-20T14:28:00.001-04:00

Oh boy...it's been awhile since I posted. I don't even think that anyone reads this anymore. BUT, I wanted to get this one down before I forgot any of it. Although, I'm not sure that I could forget any of it. Not for a second.

Last time we "talked", I was pregnant. I had a pre-conception appointment booked with my new doctor, but of course I showed up pregnant. She was amazing. Completely sympathetic to my situation, but honest and determined to figure out what was going on. She sent me in for blood work so that I could monitor my hcg levels and booked me for early ultrasounds. Amazing.

Things were looking good with my levels. The initial one wasn't huge, so I was antsy to see what the follow-up level was. Unfortunately, since I got it done on a Friday, they weren't releasing the results until the following Monday. Which was unacceptable. That Saturday, we took our sweet boy Felix to the vet because he wasn't acting normal. He seemed to be very slugglish, he'd been in a lot of pain, and he was barely able to walk. The vet told us what we had feared every single time that we had taken him in. That it was time to let him go. I couldn't believe it. Every time I prepared myself for this, and every time he was put on medication and he bounced back. She said that she thought that something had finally burst and that he was bleeding internally. I asked if she thought that he could go on his own and she said he could, but she didn't know how long it would take and that it would likely be painful.

We were heartbroken. (This is a whole long story of it's own that I'm not quite ready to talk about. Plus, he deserves an entire post of his own, so I'm going to stick to what I was originally posting about)

Needless to say, it continued our shit luck. So when they told me I had to wait until Monday, I freaked out. I needed something. Anything. Finally, after 12,000 phone calls, someone read me my results as long as I promised to not look into it too much until I talked to my doctor.

My levels doubled, so I waited for follow-up instructions. The nurse called me on Monday and told me that everything looked good, that they wanted me to come back in for more blood work. They set up an ultrasound date as well based on when they thought the levels would be high enough.

Unfortunately, as it turns out that the doctors at that particular office did NOT deliver at the hospital I thought they did. They delivered at another one that I was NOT interested in. So I had to switch, again. Luckily, I found a midwife that I loved and she was amazing.

Long story short, everything progressed beautifully. Soon enough our sweet little cherub was taking over my body and making me sick as a dog. To be honest, it took awhile to be completely connected for fear that this one would be taken away as well. It honestly took until after the gender reveal for me to really breathe a little. I think once I found out who she was, it really made it more real. That's right. SHE. We were having a baby girl. Of course, everyone else in the world (including John) guessed that, but me.

Soon enough it was July and I was huge. I thought she might come early, but alas she did not. My due date came and went. I had contractions on and off, nothing major. Then Sunday, two days after my due date I was feeling a lot of "something", but it didn't go anywhere and my family came over for dinner as usual. I grumbled about still being pregnant and talked about how I probably would be forever.

However, our girl had other plans. Monday morning, I woke up at about 12:30 because I had to pee. I had only been asleep for a couple hours, so it was surprising that I already had to pee, but I was as big as a house, so I guess it was normal. I felt a little strange, but otherwise fine so I got back into bed and just like with John a contraction hit. And then about 10 minutes later another one. I went downstairs, opened the contraction app, and started timing them. They were kind of all over the place in time between and duration, but they were real. Knowing how quick John was (well... quick for a first birth) and how my midwife said it would be quicker, I waited the hour, called the hospital and the midwife on call agreed that I should come in.

I called my mom. Went upstairs, straightened my hair, told Alex to get ready, and started packing John for school. He wasn't supposed to go on Monday, so I had nothing ready. Naturally. I was doing OK during the contractions, but they quickly became unmanageable. I was anxious to get to the hospital because I wanted my epidural, STAT. My mom came, we packed the car, and got on the road. It was now about 2ish in the morning.

We drove the hellish 15 minutes to the hospital (much better than the 40ish that we had to do with John) and I was NOT doing well. Alex dropped me off at the emergency room entrance and parked the car. At the suggestion of a nice lady who said she worked at the hospital, I went in and started to check in. It was empty, which was nice because I was struggling, and I got through the process in time for Alex to come in. We sat for about 5 of the longest minutes ever, waiting for someone to come get us. Finally the woman came and she had a wheelchair. She said it was optional, but I took it.

They brought me down to my delivery room. I was a little surprised because with John, they had me in a triage room first to see if they should admit me, but this was different. I'm not sure if it was standard procedure, or if it was because I was a mess. They struggled through my IVs (just like with John) and started getting me admitted. It was around 3:30 maybe?

I asked for my epidural stat, they took some blood (I think?), the midwife came in to check me, said I was at a 5, I asked for my epidural. I struggled and moaned through my contractions, asked for my epidural, again. They told me that they had to wait for my test results first. I was having a really hard time though, so I asked for them to hurry. They said they were trying to get him to come down anyway because I was struggling. I told Alex that these were worse than I ever felt with John. His labor started hot and heavy, contractions 1-3 minutes apart from the get-go. Which is how this was, but I was at least able to breathe through those. They were terrible, but manageable. With these, I was writhing in pain, I wanted to crawl out of my skin. I moaned, I couldn't sit still. It was bad.

I asked about the epidural again and I felt like a wimp. I tried to get over myself and my feelings of inadequacy and just try to advocate for myself. I didn't want to keep my mouth shut just because I was worried about what other people thought of me, I couldn't handle this any longer and I needed relief.

Unfortunately, that didn't happen. Though they promised me that "John" was on his way with the good drugs (which I thought was a sign), all of a sudden shit it the fan. A HUGE contraction hit and I screamed that an Amazonian woman. Alex jumped out of his chair, everyone came running in my room, and I couldn't talk to tell anyone what was going on. I just screamed. I felt something strange, that I didn't really know what was going on, but it turns out it was my water breaking. Alex kept asking what was wrong and I kept screaming.

The midwife rushed in and checked me. My heart sank a little when I heard her say, "OK, she's a 10". She very sweetly, but very urgently told me, "Kayleigh, honey, I know this wasn't part of your plan, but she's coming now". (Please remember that less than an hour before I was a 5, and that I had only been in labor for a little over 3 1/2 hours).

I sat there for a second, trying to think of any other options that I could think of. Any type of pain medication that they could give me. How much it would hurt. Wondering whether or not I could do this. And then she told me to push.

I pushed twice, and she told me to stop, the cord was around her neck. Then she told me to keep going. It was like riding a bike, only this time I could FEEL that I needed to push. With John, it was an instinct, but I didn't really have anything to go off of, I just did it. With the third push, she was out. And I just remember thinking she was so tiny and she had so much hair. She was beautiful. At 4:12 AM, our sweet Addalyn was finally here.

She wasn't as tiny as she seemed, though she was tinier than John. At 8 lbs 1 oz, she was over a full pound lighter than his 9 lb 3 oz self. They were both 20 inches though. And her body seems just so much tinier than his. He was/is SOLID, and she's a peanut. Our Peanut.

We are slowly adjusting to life as a family of four. We are all madly in love with her, but it's been a lot. We wouldn't change it for the world though. She's a lot different than John, which I always thought she would be. She was crazy when I was pregnant and of course her entrance didn't surprise us. It had something to the consideration list for Baby # 3 because I'm pretty sure that since she was born in less than 4 hours, our next would be born on the kitchen floor.

At least for today...

2017-01-05T11:32:00.001-05:00

I wrote this blog post months ago. I just haven't had the heart to share it. But, I think it's finally been long enough to stop waiting for the other shoe to drop. I can't spend all of this time worried about the "what ifs". So, we'll let the cat out of the bag and hope and pray together.

October 25th, 2016

Third times a charm, right?

At least that's what we are hoping.

So here's the thing. I quit my doctor and found a new one. I can't remember if I wrote about that or not. I wasn't happy with the practice, things are still left unresolved with my doctor, test results are still not back yet (over a month later), I'm just all done with it.

So, I set out to find a new one. I looked at all of the hospitals around and saw who was near me and was taking new patients. I also reached out to my primary care doctor and asked her who she would recommend. She is always pretty honest with me, and brutally honest with me (like when she found out I followed my doctor to her new practice she was happy because she didn't like the hospital that the doctors in her practice were delivering at) so I knew she would let me know.

Except, I'm used to no one getting back to me, so I just went about my research. I found a doctor in the next town over (which is the town that Alex works in), at my old practice, and I loved her. I read her bio and she immediately felt like someone I would be comfortable with. They changed hospitals, so that's not an issue either, and the new one is closer to our house (the one I delivered John at is about 45 minutes away. Luckily, he was born on a Saturday, but if it was ever rush hour traffic it would probably take closer to 2 hours to get there...no thank you). I called to explain my situation and make my appointment and I already love everyone there.

The nurse that I talked to was so nice and sympathetic. They found me someone to talk to immediately and gave me suggestions on what I should do appointment wise. They even just called yesterday to say that my appointment was in a week and that they hadn't received my medical records yet. Saying that they just wanted to make sure that they had all of the information they needed from my old doctor. (The other practice didn't even tell me what to do with my file, so I showed up with it and my doctor was annoyed I hadn't submitted it earlier... what did I know... I've had the same doctors since I was 16 and my mom was still making my decisions!!!)

I'm really looking forward to meeting her. I'm still waiting to hear back from our new insurance to see if they cover a pre-conception meeting because they didn't really know what else to book it under. I just wanted to meet with her to talk about my history so that when I became pregnant again she would know me and I would know her and it would be less weird.

Alex and I just decided to take this month at least and take a step back. I didn't want to go crazy with temping, tracking, etc. We were just going to do our thing. I kept an eye on things just to know what was going on with my body, but since I was gone for most of the time things should have happened I wasn't too worried about it. I was actually pretty OK with giving my body a month or so to relax from the stress of two back to back miscarriages. It seemed like a lot less stress to get a negative pregnancy test than to get a positive one and then lost it again.

Except, as usual, God had other plans.

So, here I am. Pregnant. For the 3rd month in a row. It's REALLY early. Like REALLY early. I'm not 4 weeks until Friday the 28th. I found out last night. I already "knew" though. I'm pretty in tune with my body, so I called it a few days ago. The line is pretty dark for this early though, so I'm considering that a sign. I'm also feeling very calm about it all. I'm trying to decipher if it is calm or numb, but I'm thinking more calm.

I also have to kind of laugh. You know when they say, "You plan, God laughs" or something like that. Well the due date will be the beginning of July, which was the one month I didn't want. We go to Martha's Vineyard every July, so I knew that depending on the due date we might have to skip our trip, which I hate doing. It's hard to go in August because we rent it out, September could work but it wouldn't be much "beach" weather (I know, first world problems". But, here we are. The 4th of July is always SUPER busy for us, so being 11 months pregnant or having a newborn is far from ideal.

BUT...oh my goodness... I don't even care. I just want to be able to take this one home. Boy or girl. Martha's Vineyard trip be damned. Happy, healthy, in my arms. That's all I want.

I'm learning so much of what parts of life that I need to let go of control of. That I need to just go with the flow for my own sanity. I can plan and plan and plan, but I need to learn to be OK with Plan B (or C, or D, or even X). It's a humbling experience knowing that you have absolutely no control over something so important to you. You just need to learn to have faith.

So who knows if we get to keep this one. Or how long we'll have it. But, today I'm pregnant. So, today I'll enjoy it!

Today I'm pregnant.

An Open Letter to Donald Trump

2016-11-09T10:23:00.002-05:00

Dear Mr. Trump,

       I'd like to start off by saying that I really mulled over how to address this letter. I wanted to just call you Donald, because I don't think you deserve the respect of a formal address, but since I was raised to do the right thing regardless of whether or not someone "deserves" it, I chose Mr. I just felt that needed to be said.

       I've watched your disgraceful campaign from afar for quite some time now. I was not able to bring myself to watch more than a few minutes of the circus that was the Presidential debates, so I'll admit that I am not as informed as I could be. However, in full disclosure, I didn't honestly think that we would ever be here. That I would ever live in a world where Donald Trump is our President. So I sat back and waited for the spectacle to be over, preparing for the days of "remember when Donald Trump thought he was going to be President?". Except here we are.

      I woke up this morning to an email from a friend in Canada asking me if this was a joke. Facebook messages from family in other countries offering their spare bedrooms if I needed a place to stay. This is how the world views us right now. That we are a joke. They feel for us, the deep heartache that we feel that you are now our "Leader". The United States of America is now a joke, and we have you to thank for that. Now, before we get into the thick of things, I would like to be clear. I believe this whole entire election was a disgrace. You and Hilary. The two of you sunk to the lowest of levels. Abandoning any form of grace, professionalism, or tact. It was disgusting to watch. I was embarrassed for the both of you, that you will forever have footage of yourself behaving this way. This not how our country should be run. This is not how our elections should be run. There was too much blood shed for our country for this to be what we have become. People gave their lives for this? I bet they are turning over in their graves, wondering what happened to the values and convictions that they stood for. I know you can't understand that, being a white male who grew up with the silver spoon in his mouth, but let me break it down for you.

     I in no way am trying to say that I have experienced the most hardships in the world. I am not a person of color. I don't come from a religion that has been persecuted. I am not a member of the LGBT community (though I support them through and through). But I am a female. Someone whose "people" have faced adversity as well. There was a time when my "job" would have been to stay home, clean the house, and have children. That's all I would have been good for. However, thanks to this amazing country, I grew up to think that I could be anything. In the 4th grade, while all of my classmates predicted jobs of doctors, firefighters, etc. I proudly stood up in front of all of my classmates and their parents and said that I was going to be the first female President of the United States. THAT is what the good people of our country have fought for, the belief that we can do anything. That men, women, and children of all race, sexual orientation, and religion are equal. THAT is why America is great.

       It seems however, that we took a giant step backwards last night by electing you. Someone who talks down to women and demeans them. Who thinks nothing wrong with sexual assault. Who thinks that they have every right to put their hands on whomever they want whenever they want. As a SURVIVOR of sexual assault, I just want to take a minute and say FUCK YOU. Keep your grubby, dirty hands to yourself and be glad that there are even actual people in this world who would actually want you to touch them. Leave the rest of us alone. You are someone who thinks that the answer to our immigration problems is to build a giant wall to keep people out. Did you forget that this fine country was built from immigrants? That you are lucky enough to be where you are today BECAUSE of them? Someone who thinks that women shouldn't have a choice over what happens to their body and should be PUNISHED for certain things? Don't even get me started on your stellar choice for VP who thinks the answer to our "LGBT problem" is conversion therapy. I'm actually slightly impressed that you two were able to find each other. They say everyone has a soul mate and it looks like you found yours.

       I've spent a lot of time being angry about this. I want to kick and scream. Throw my hands up. Move to another country. Leave this circus behind. But, that's exactly what is wrong with our country right now. Those that CAN do good are frustrated, they feel defeated, they are giving up. They are giving into the media, the hysteria, and I can't do that. I have a son to raise. An example to show. I have an obligation to this country to keep fighting, to stand tall, to raise a MAN that will help make this world a better place. To teach him that while the world is full of hateful people like you, good will always win. The sun will always rise on a new day.

      So here is my plea. You got this far. You made it. You leveraged people's fear and frustration into a Presidential nomination. I just want you to remember that at the end of the day, we aren't a risky business deal that you can walk away from. You can't declare "bankruptcy" on being the President of the United States of America. This is our life. Your words. Your choices. Your example. That is going to be what shapes the next 4 years (and hell probably many more after that depending on how much good or damage you do). These 4 years will be the most formative years of some people's lives. You owe it to the people that elected you (and even more so to those that didn't) to remember that. We understand that you have your ideas about what this country should be, but so do we. It is your obligation to do what is best for us all as a WHOLE and not just to follow your own agenda. It is your JOB to keep us safe, to make decisions for our well-being. You just became the Father of over 300 million people. It is your obligation to do right by us.

     I don't need you to turn the world upside down. I don't need you to reinvent the wheel. I don't need you to try and make history to feed your own ego. I just need you to not fuck this up. Can you do that? Can you put aside your own agenda for 4 years and just think about someone else for a change? You want to make America great again? Unite us, don't divide us. The inner turmoil that we are all facing has caused us to turn against each other. The hate, the animosity, the friendships ruined, the families divided. It's because of you. So fix it. Make us great again. Do what you said you would do. Just remember that if you fail, we fail. We lose. Just think about it.

      I know you'll never see this. And I doubt that anyone will make it his far through it, but I needed to say it, to clear my own head. To purge my soul of the hate and negativity that I'm feeling. The sadness I feel for our country. So I dare you. Prove me wrong. Make me eat my words. I'll gladly put my foot in my mouth. Just please, for the love of all that is good, don't fuck this up. We are counting on you, whether we want to or not.

Sincerely,

A woman who has worked far too hard to let someone like you push her backwards.

Tired...

2016-10-11T10:20:00.002-04:00

I've been trying to be a little more honest with myself, and others, about how I'm really doing. I'm not really sure who I am trying to fool more, myself or them, but I have long ago figured out that faking "fine" isn't the same thing as BEING fine.

See? Look at that progress. If only all of my old therapists could see me now. They would be so proud.

Alex and I went out to dinner on Saturday just the two of us to celebrate our anniversary (a month late). After a disastrous attempt to try a new restaurant, we went back to an old reliable. We found ourselves chatting about everything and nothing. Eventually the tequila kicked in and I found myself telling Alex that I wasn't doing well.

He said that he'd noticed. That he was doing his best to do what I needed, but he was never sure what that was. That it always seemed wrong. I told him that it wasn't all in his head. That everything he did annoyed me. I was honest and told him that I wasn't entirely sure that there was an actual reason for the anger, that it could very well be that he was just there, but that his mere presence annoyed me most of the time and I couldn't figure it out.

I told him I was doing my best to exist and that most days, that's all I had in me. Wake up, get ready, get the baby ready, feed baby, pack stuff, drop baby off, work, try not to flip out at work, pick up baby, come home, make dinner, feed baby, feed large man, feed dog, put baby to bed, clean up, pack lunches, exist, go to bed. Lather, rinse, repeat.

That's kind of all I got in me. Everything else is work. Effort. I don't feel like a great Mom. I feel like I'm "phoning" it in a lot. Then I feel like I have to overcompensate. Then I feel even more fake because I'm doing things purely to make myself not feel like a shitty Mom. It's been fun.

I've been hard on Alex. He can't do much right. He's not helpful enough, he's not around me enough, he doesn't want to talk enough, he's in my way, he's talking when I just want to sit quietly. There's literally nothing he can do right.

I told him I would try to take it easy on him, He promised not to do the imaginary things that make me mad.

What a good husband.

Sometimes I think I'm OK. I seem rather rational. Not random outbursts. No excessive drinking. Work is stressful, so I attribute a lot of my moods to that. And while it doesn't help, at all, I know that a lot of what is bothering me isn't work. Or maybe it is. Who knows anymore. But, a large portion of my life is a shit show and I'm just trying to tread water.

But Sunday night things started to take a bit of a turn. I haven't been sleeping well, but that's pretty normal for the amount of stuff that I have in my head. There's a lot going on at work so I feel like I'm always remembering something at a random time and it gets my head spinning. So I've been going to bed later and later. I've been waking up a lot too, which hasn't helped.

But Sunday, I was on the verge of a panic attack. I was sitting on the couch and Alex and John were playing at the end of it. All of a sudden they were too loud. They were too close. They were doing too much. There was too much stuff everywhere. The dog was standing right next to me so I could get off the couch. My sweatshirt felt like it shrunk 2 sizes and I couldn't breathe. I went upstairs, took my sweatshirt off, and took some deep breathes. Thankfully I was able to calm down. It started to rear its ugly head a little while later, but I squashed it and was able to calm down again.

It's been a long time since I've had a panic attack. I'm not sure if I'm had a full blown one since before I met Alex. It's been that long.

But things are just piling up. Saturday I took Felix to get his nails clipped. While I was there they gave me his new medicine, insisted he needed his rabies and heart worm in order to get his nails cuts, and charged me $250 for the whole shebang. The money is rough, but he's my guy so I do it. He has trouble getting in the car and wasn't even remotely interested in trying when we were leaving. Normally when I attempt to pick him up he flips and then tries to get in himself. He has never liked to be picked up. So I called his bluff. But this time he let me pick him up. No fight. Nothing. He's so skinny now. He's finally eating regularly, but he's just so skinny. He's 15, so I'm not naive to what's going on. But it's been a rough year.

When I got home Alex asked how it went, to which I told him what happened with the car. I then added, with a little dramatic flair, "I already lost my Nanny and two babies this year, so why wouldn't I be losing my dog too", burst into tears, picked a fight with him for not sounding sincere enough, and went inside.

So, you see, I'm doing awesome. Really, quite well.

I try to remind myself that the real crazy people probably don't know that they are crazy, so I can't be ALL that bad yet, right?

It's just a lot. I feel like every time I try to get my head above water something else happens. I feel like I've been treading water for almost a year and I'm exhausted. I just want to stop struggling. With work, with money, with my family, my friends, everything. I'm just so tired.

I just wish this year was over with. Start fresh. Start new. Maybe have a year that isn't full of disaster and heartache. I think we are due for that.

I find myself not talking about us having another baby. Like, talking about it out loud will jinx us. We used to talk about what things would be like with two. Or when things were crazy we would say, "are you sure you want another one". But now we don't. And I cringe when people talk or ask about us having another one. We just don't know. I think we are trying to guard ourselves against the worst. Sometimes I feel even sadder about that. That it broke us. We were so optimistic, both times, well... trying to be. It never felt right. But we wished and hoped and prayed.

We just feel broken now.

I'm not sure how to fix it.

Here we are Again...

2016-10-02T16:04:00.000-04:00

I wasn't really sure if I was going to post about this. Mainly because I'm not sure how I feel about it. There's a part of me that feels stupid. There's a part of me that feels reckless. There's a part of me that feels broken. There's a lot going on in this 'ole brain of mine.

But, I've gone through the story this far, so let's continue shall we...

Last we "chatted" I was coming off a baby shower that was a lot more difficult for me to attend than I anticipated, but through the help of a mimosa and 3 Coors Lights, I made it through.

I was still waiting to get the month over with and kicking myself a little for thinking that everything would happen so quickly and we would all just be moving right along into expecting another baby.

I couldn't get it out of my head that I thought I was pregnant and had convinced myself that I was just another one of those crazy people who had spent so much time wishing and hoping and praying that they had convinced themselves that they were pregnant.

Imagine me, 9 months pregnant, going into labor, only to find out that I had made the entire thing up in my head.

Now, let's stop for a minute here and set some things straight. I don't actually think that anyone is crazy. I think that this process is gut-wrenching and sometimes all you have to hold onto is hope. That you need to let your heart have those few days where you think it's possible because they are way better than the days that you know it isn't.

Now...continue...

I bought myself more tests, because the 20,000 that I had already taken (and squinted at, swearing I saw something) weren't good enough. I had taken a couple days off from peeing in a cup and just decided that every few days I would test until it was obvious that I wasn't, just to make my head feel better. (You'll notice that I don't talk about "female" things. Ew. Just read into the references and we'll pretend that I'm not actually talking about this.)

I came home Tuesday afternoon, took a test to ease my mind as I poured myself a large glass of wine. Except, imagine my surprise when I saw two lines. Yeah. Two lines.

I called to Alex and freaked out. I texted Nicole. I texted Kelli. I texted Lindsay. I needed my people. I then stopped texting people, because it had been 12 seconds and it was becoming excessive.

Alex and I told ourselves this would be it. We would be OK. That we were so lucky to get this chance again. That we would bring this baby home.

I called the doctor the next morning and went in immediately for blood work (they promised to keep a close eye on me). I sat nervous all day. I got the blood test results back from Friday, which made my heart race when I got the "result" email, only to find out it wasn't what I was looking for. At least the didn't find anything, so that was good.

I never did get the email, but I finally found the result. My hcg was a 4.

They don't even consider that pregnant.

I called to talk to the doctor, but why would she ever be available? I spoke to the nurse, explained my situation. Neither of us could figure out how I could have a positive home pregnancy test with only a 4, and she told me to come back on Friday. They'd figure this out.

So I sit. I wait.

I take 12,000 more tests. They get lighter. They turn negative.

I was pretty hopeless about it. I got an email from my doctor that my pregnancy test was negative. I explained to her what I talked to the nurses about and what the plan was. Not that I would hear back from her. God forbid she actually calls me and has an actual conversation with me, knowing everything that's been going on. Nope. Please tell me twice in an email that I'm not pregnant.

Friday morning I wake up and decided to take one more test and then head in for blood work. Just to see what's going on. But, I don't need to and my heart sinks.

So, I called out of work and just did my thing. I needed some time.

I'm assuming it was a chemical pregnancy, since it happened so quick. I'm also assuming that this is some sort of sick joke that is being played on us because I can't honestly think that we are here, again, one more later dealing with this bullshit. Because that's what this is. Bullshit.

I'm a little less emotional this time around, but when I am it comes out of nowhere. Just driving. Or sitting on the couch. Or doing something normal. And it hits me.

I feel sick. Or tired. Or weird. And wonder if it's the baby. Then I remind myself that I'm not pregnant. So it's obviously not. Those are usually the times that I get upset. The fact that I have to remind myself that I'm not pregnant. That I'm not 10 weeks along. Or 5 weeks along. That there is no baby growing because I lost both of them.

Those are the parts that get me.

I think I'm definitely switching doctors. The ride out to her has been terrible and I feel like I deserve a little extra TLC right now and she's made me jump through hoops to talk to her and made me feel like shit when I actually do. Not really someone I'm comfortable with anymore. Not really sure what the plan is for that going forward but I have some time.

Alex and I have decided to take some time off from things. I think I need to let my body and my heart heal a little bit. I don't think that I can do this again. Alex is already talking about how this will be our last baby, if we ever get one, and that breaks my heart too. I always saw us with three. I always imagined it being MY choice how many children I had and not out of fear of not being able to have more.

I can't help but feel a little broken. A little deceived by my body. Wondering why it doesn't work right. Wondering why this keeps happening.

Our pregnancy ratio is plummeting quickly. It went from 1 out of 2. To 1 out of 3. And now 1 out of 4. Which, are not very good odds.

I don't really know what happens next. Or where we go from here. Or what any of this means. I just know what it sucks and no one gets it. Or maybe there's just nothing to get. No one can seem to say anything right, but I think that problem lies more with me. It's not OK. I can't relax. I can't hear that we'll have a baby soon. Or this will all be just a bad memory. I don't want to hear any of it. And I don't want to hear that I "shouldn't think like that" when I tell people that I don't know if this means that John is it for us. I can think about this however I want.

I need to protect my head and my heart from all of this. I need to steal myself for the possibility that John may be the only child that we ever have. I need to start to open myself up to that possibility. Because it IS a possibility. And I just can't hold onto rainbows and unicorns. I can't just think that this is just a blip on the radar. This is huge. This is something that defines me. This is a big part of my life and my story. And people thinking that I can just "move on" from it makes me feel like they are diminishing the amount that this affects me.

But like I said. I don't think anything anyone said to me right now would be right. I think it's just one of those things.

So, here we are. Again. Again.

I'm hoping to one day no longer be writing this posts. I'm hoping that some day my life becomes boring again, so the need to write dwindles. Or maybe I start writing about how blessed we are.

But, until then. Here I am. Again. Again.

Processing...

2016-09-26T09:07:00.003-04:00

While I'd like to say that I'm handling this all pretty well, for the most part, I definitely have my moments.

It doesn't help that work is a complete nightmare right now. Or maybe it does. While it gives me something else to perseverate on, it piles on the stress. So, I guess it's a bit of a double-edged sword.

I had a baby shower to attend this weekend. This is nothing new. My friends are a wildly gestating bunch and a month doesn't go by that I'm not celebrating the arrival of another little cherub. Some of them, recently, have been a bit emotional as I realized that I was ready to add another to our family. But, not emotional in a bad way. Just in a, "I can't wait to do this all over again" kind of way.

I made it through the shopping no problem. John threw an epic tantrum in the store because we wouldn't let him play with a mobile forever and then Grammy was looking at him wrong. So I shipped him out to the car with Grammy to give him all the dirty looks she wanted (I kid, he was obviously just being a nut job) and rushed through buying everything. Between that and not being able to easily find anything on the registry, I was fairly distracted.

I was also convinced that last month was a fluke and we would find ourselves pregnant immediately and this would all be a distant nightmare.

Imagine my surprise when I find myself here, the weekend of the baby shower, coming off a terrible doctor's visit, not pregnant, and now having to spend my day celebrating someone else having a baby.

I'll be honest. I almost didn't go. I didn't know if I had it in me. I just wanted to sit at home and feel sorry for myself.

I tried to remind myself that the girl whose shower I was going to has had her struggles too. She didn't know when/if she would be able to get pregnant due to her health issues and it was a long road to get here. Not that she needed to struggle to deserve happiness, but I know where she has been and I know what it feels like to finally get to your baby shower that you wondered if you would ever have.

So I went.

And it was hard.

I think it surprised me how hard it was. Usually, I can prepare myself. But this kind of came out of nowhere and left me in tears quite a few times before I got there.

Thankfully, once I got there, there was enough to keep me pre-occupied. And there was booze. Booze always helps.

After that though, I was exhausted and unfortunately had to cancel on Family Dinner. I felt bad, but I'm trying to recognize my limits. I just needed to be home. Alex, John, and I had a nice dinner just the three of us, did bath time, and bed time and then Alex and I watched some TV and went to bed early. It was a nice, quiet.

I needed quiet.

Follow-Ups

2016-09-23T22:37:00.000-04:00

I had my follow-up doctor's appointment today.

I didn't know what to expect. Why would I? Despite my attempts to ask numerous questions, it seems that they are taking a break from making communication a priority.

I arrived late due to a shit storm at work. Although, that's pretty much my all day every day reality currently, so I should probably just say that I was late because of work and leave it at that. So that's how the day started.

There was a "traffic incident" on my route, so my handy-dandy GPS re-routed me. Cool. I got to the appointment and realized that I had time to spare. Except at 10:19 I realized that my appointment was at 10:15. So that was fun too.

Thankfully, the doctor was running late so I didn't feel so bad.

I didn't have to wait in the room long. I tried to drown out the sounds of my work phone going off repeatedly and catch up on my US Weekly. I was trying not to think of why I was there. I was trying not to think of that I had an appointment around this time when I was supposed to be there, obviously for better reasons. I tried not to think of the fact that I should be 9 weeks by now. Feeling like shit. My pants starting not to fit. Obsessing over whether the baby was a boy or a girl. Or how we should redo the room. Or, I don't know, anything other than the fact that I was in the doctor's office because I had a miscarriage. Again.

It worked for a little bit. Until the person in the room next to me go to hear their baby's heartbeat.

God I missed that sound. I would have done anything to be hearing that. Anything.

Not too long after that, the doctor walked in and asked how I was doing. I always find that to be a strange question. Especially when people are asking directly about it. I mean, I don't have anything better to suggest that you say. I just don't know how to answer it.

I told her that I was still waiting for a response on something, to which she blamed the nurses, again. They had a student in the room with us. No one asked me if it was OK. Apparently talking about my multiple miscarriages was a great way to break the ice with a new friend.

She went through the list of things that she was checking, looking for, advised me that I should take a break from trying and I told her I wasn't. I said that everything seemed to be doing what it should and that everything went back to normal. All in all, everything began and was over within a week and a half. My hcg levels were low to begin with and they went right back down to 0. I told her that it was detrimental to my mental and emotional health to wait without a valid medical reason.

I also them reminded her that that was precisely the question that I had asked her about over a month ago that the "nurses never answered".

I didn't really get a great vibe from her today, which is a shame because she has been my doctor for the better part of a decade and I've always really liked her. I felt more like she though that I was this crazy person who was still trying to have a baby despite everything that could still go wrong. Her bedside manner isn't always spot on. Like the time she saw my weight gain when I was pregnant and gasped... and then told me to lay off the carbs.

Replay that.

Saw my weight gain. Pregnant.

Gasped.

Told me to lay off the carbs.

OK.

Continue.

I guess I just thought there might be a little bit more tact in this situation. But, what do I know. I definitely have never been to medical school.

All in all the appointment was pretty disappointing. She did some blood work to see if there's something up with my chromosomes, or my thyroid, or if I have a blood clotting disorder or something. She suggested Alex get tested too, but I'm not even sure where to start with that. She didn't give me any instructions so I don't know if I'm supposed to send the information to her or not. She also told me that those are the three things that she starts to test for, but she doesn't really to expect to find anything.

So it is what it is.

I am where I was yesterday, except that I got to spend my morning unable to avoid what I spend most of my time attempting to avoid. Healthily of course.

I just want to know when we get our baby.

If we get our baby.

I just want our baby.

Keep on Keepin' On...

2016-09-12T07:00:00.000-04:00

Alex started his new job last week. That was probably the quickest week ever. It was so nice to have him home. Of course, now we will get him home more anyway.

In a way it was almost nice to get back into a routine. I feel like we were stuck too much in this whole, free, do whatever we want mentality. It was nice to be able to grieve and process without the added stress of a lot of things, but at some point it is time to get back to reality.

John and I managed to get out the door without the first morning. In fact, I was at work earlier than I had been in awhile. The rest of the days weren't so great. It will be hard to get used to this new routine, Alex has done drop-off since I went back to work when John was 8 weeks old. But, we managed, although Little Man was looking for Daddy and wanting to tell him all about the big trucks we saw. Thankfully, he stopped crying during drop-off awhile ago, so it was a lot easier for my Mama heart. He LOVES his new classroom something fierce so that helps a lot. We were a little worried about him moving up to the next classroom, since he loves this one so much, but it turns out that his Toddler teacher that he was obsessed with just moved up to the next classroom so he will have her again. That makes me feel a lot better.

Things have been going alright. I mean, as well as to be expected. Well... I did just find out that the FOUR times that I had to do blood work were charged at a whopping $50 a pop, so that's fun. (And Alex wonders why we are switching to his health insurance...) I understand that insurance is a business and that there's no emotion involved, but there's just something about getting a bill for $200 and not having a baby to show for it. Kind of a kick in the face. But, whatever. It wasn't nearly has devastating as the bill for the hospital visit for the first time. See? Better!

I'm trying really hard to let myself feel without drowning. It's quite the slippery slope. I've been throwing myself into projects at home. Brainstorming ways to not be ridiculously broke. You know, fun stuff. Trying to find anything that takes my mind off the craziness of it all. I try not to think in terms of "this isn't fair", "we don't deserve this", "why us". That doesn't really seem to get us anywhere good. I tried to put on a brave face for awhile and talk about how if John is all we get then we are still so blessed. Unfortunately, Alex has been trying to remind me of this when I'm down and the more I hear it, the more I hate it. I know I said it first. I know he's just trying to help. But, I don't want that to be our life. John needs siblings. I want to be able to choose the number of children I have. I don't want to be limited by health, fertility, money, fear, etc. etc. etc. I want to be free to be the next Dugger family (minus the scandal) if I want. So I think I'm in the "tantrum" throwing part of the grieving process. Next I'll be stomping my feet and kicking rocks...

I've been waiting, not so patiently, for the "time for another one" conversations to start back up. The universe has seemed to have smiled upon be and put a break to them for the time being. Even people who don't know what is going on have stopped asking. I haven't really formulated my response yet. I can tell them we are done. I can tell them we aren't ready. I can tell them we are trying. I can tell them we are trying, but lost one. I could tell them to go fuck themselves because the last time that I checked, my reproductive plans were no one's business but Alex and I's. So, yeah, we are still working on that one. Maybe I'll be in a better place when I get asked.

I got a new tattoo on Thursday. I thought for awhile about what I wanted, but seemed to struggle with it. This tattoo seemed a little more personal and raw than tattoos of the past. I talked with my artist, who I'm obsessed with, and we came up with the idea of a single black/gray feather. It's on my side underneath the tattoo of John's name and birthday. All of my babies together. I originally wanted to do two feather to represent them, but I thought the symbolism of them was more important than the individual representation of them. I've grown to love it, but it definitely took me a couple of days to be anything but numb to it. It was just a glaring reminder of where I am. Maybe I should have waited awhile before getting it. I wouldn't have changed what I got, or where, I just think maybe it might have been a little easier to process emotionally.

I've been trying hard not to sensor my writing. I can't remember who can and can't see this. I don't know who still reads it or not. I'm sure my mom still does (Hi Mom!) and is just letting me process my thoughts without calling attention to them in the real world. She's good like that. It's hard though, when you wonder what people are going to read about you. That's why I had such a hard time when my blog was more advertised. People in "real life" knowing stuff about me that I didn't tell them directly. Some people used it as their way of knowing what was going on with me, without actually making the effort to be in my life. That was tough. But, I'm just trying to do things a million ways different than last time. Last time I hid this. Didn't talk about it. I drank too much. I got angry. I slipped deeper into depression. It wasn't good. So, I think I'll stay in the light this time. That includes talking about it every time I feel like I need to talk about it.

It's hard to plan life though. I keep looking to the future and wondering what we will be doing at certain times. My Sister in Law is getting married in November. We are trying to figure out a plan for John. He's in the wedding and invited to the festivities, but he's two and not always the most behaved party guest. So we are coming up with plans on plans on plans. Part of me just wants to know that I'll be pregnant and therefore all of these plans with be mute. No need to plan to attend an after party until all hours of the morning if you're all knocked up and unable to drink. Ya know. But, I don't know my future, so who knows where we will be.

Alex and I have been talking about planning a trip in May for our 10 year anniversary. I don't know where we will be then. Part of me wants to plan this fun getaway. Finally get Alex on a plane. Go somewhere warm. Enjoy ourselves freely, but what is the point if I don't know what our life is like. And how long do I plan my life around a "what if"? When do I actually start living it again? Although, "living" it more seems like "giving up", so I think I should probably process through that first. I think that will be pretty important to my timing choice.

Then again, what if this is all for nothing? What if we just had this absolutely shitty experience, again, and I get pregnant relatively quickly and all ends well. That brings up the whole discussion of a 3rd child and possibly facing this again, but I guess that's another monster that we could probably deal with later. I mean, let's work on this one first.

I hope that's our story.

I hope that we just look back on this as some terrible experience that had a profound effect (affect?) on our lives, but we do that while looking at our beautiful children running around. Remembering the darkness while staring at the light.

Oh how I hope that's our story.

I've been praying a lot. I don't consider myself to be overly religious. I started praying the night John was born though. I don't think anyone knows that. I don't think I've ever told anyone that. I prayed every single night for God to keep him safe. I was so petrified that he would be taken away from me. After everything we had been through. I had a really hard time when he was first born, I constantly checked him to make sure he was breathing. For months. So I prayed, hoping that there was a higher power somewhere that would watch over him when I couldn't.

I prayed when I got pregnant this time, but I already knew that the decision had been made before I started. I tried, half-heartedly for a miracle, but I knew in my heart that that story was already written.

So, now I pray. I don't like to talk about it. It's almost like when you're little and don't tell anyone your birthday wish because it won't come true. Although, I'm sure that prayers are a whole different set of rules. I think you can talk about them. But I pray. I pray for our family. I pray for the family that we want. I pray that this season is quick and that we are blessed with another sweet baby soon. I pray that we find a way to make it all OK. I pray.

But there are still those dark moments. Like when I lost my temper at John on Saturday. Frustrated of saying the same thing 12,000 times and him not listening. Frustrated that I can't find a way to get him to stop hitting when he is mad. So I lost my cool. I yelled. We both ended up in tears. And that's when the darkness came. For a second, the thought crossed my mind, "this is why God isn't giving you another baby, because you're a bad Mom. Because you can't handle it". Which brought more tears. That's a whole rabbit hole that I've been trying not to go down. The "whys". Maybe I can't handle another baby. Maybe I can't afford another baby. Who knows. Maybe wanting one isn't enough.

I try not to go down those roads though. They don't lead anywhere good.

And We Keep Moving...

2016-09-05T07:00:00.000-04:00

I haven't had much to say the past couple days. Or maybe I have too much to say. Not really sure which.

Originally, I thought this was all terrible timing. Alex was finishing up his last days at his job and getting ready for his week off. Which meant that his last days and his first days off were filled with a lot of not great things. But, we also got to spend a lot of time together, which I think was a blessing. We spent some of that time not being so nice to each other, but it's hard when everyone has so many thoughts and feelings going around. Everyone deals with things differently.

I figured that Alex understood what was going on, since we have been through this before, but this time was so much different that I don't think that he really got it. It all happened rather quickly, there was no hospital visit, it was a completely different story with the same outcome. It wasn't until I found him an article that was meant to help explain to men what was going on, that he really started to understand. He apologized and said that since he thought I was doing better that things were different. It's hard to explain to someone that when they think you are "OK" it is really just taking every single part of your being to be "OK". It's work. Lots of work.

I went to the doctor on Friday for more blood work. My levels went back to zero, which I guess is a good thing. If they didn't, then I think that would represent that there was something going on. It seems that my body did what it was supposed to and I am relieved that it wasn't necessary to go to the hospital. That was probably one of the most traumatizing parts of last time, so I'm glad that we got to avoid that.

It's still a bit weird though. Yesterday we had our cookout that we planned to tell everyone at, so that was pretty gut-wrenching. It was hard to see Alex smile and giggle at the little babies, not knowing if I'll be able to give that to him again. It's hard to try and remember if I'm supposed to eat something or not, and then remember that I can eat whatever I want. It's hard to feel sick, or start to feel hungry and attribute it to the baby, which I then remember that there is no baby, so it's obviously something else. It's just hard.

I'm not really sure how I am feeling about my doctor now. I really liked her before. When we got pregnant the first time, we decided that we would ask for recommendations for a new doctor because the hospital that she delivers at is really far away. But, they were so amazing to us during out first miscarriage that we stayed. I'm so glad we did. She was wonderful, she ended up delivering John even though she didn't need to since she was filling in for another practice. The hospital was amazing, even though the drive in was dreadful. We considered ourselves lucky that I went into labor early on a Saturday morning, rather than during rush hour during that week. But, she switched practices about a year and a half ago. I followed her even though the office is a lot less convenient for me. But, throughout this whole process, I've been very disappointed in how the office has handled it. It took me from Monday to Thursday, calling every single day about my test results and eventually falling apart on the phone to the woman to finally be able to talk to my doctor. The messages back and forth have been confusing and I emailed her last Monday to clear up my confusion on a couple of things and I still haven't heard from her. God forbid I was pregnant and something was seriously wrong with me (which... I guess you could say is what happened before) would it be like this? Would be lose valuable time because no one would get back to me? I don't know how I feel about it.

If we switch doctors, I wouldn't even know how to go about finding one. I've had her for as long as I have needed a doctor. I liked the hospital, but there are definitely ones closer that I we could choose from. So do we choose a doctor or a hospital first? Or both? So many questions.

The questions just keep coming, I guess.

So that's where we are. Things aren't completely devastating, which I guess is good. We are trucking along, which is good. We have been enjoying spending a lot of family time together, which is always good for the soul. We have one more day left before Alex starts his new job and John and I start our new morning routine. Alex has been responsible for bringing John to wherever he is going since day one pretty much. I've had to make sure everyone has what they need each morning, but I've only had to get myself out the door. It will be a change, but a welcome one for all of the time we will get with Alex now.

And here we are.

2016-08-30T07:00:00.000-04:00

I guess if we get anything from this whole situation, at least it ignited my desire to write once again.

For two years I have told myself that I don't have the time, but here I am. Three posts, three days. It's amazing what you can accomplish when it is a priority to you.

Let's talk about life now. And how we got here.

It's been a long time after all, I'm sure you need to be caught up.

So...

John is almost 2 1/2. He's amazing. He is equal parts sweet, funny, crazy, insane, brave, sensitive, smart, caring, etc. etc. etc. I know I'm his mom, but he's pretty much the most exquisite creature I've ever met. I mean, don't get me wrong. There's days that he makes me want to run for the hills, but he's awesome.

Work is ridiculous. I mean, I used to love my job. Who can say that? I loved my job. My boss was amazing. I loved my work. My coworkers were cool. It was great. Then some bullshit went down, my boss switched positions, I got passed over for a promotion, and my new boss was a questionable choice. So yeah...that's been a living hell, BUT ya know, it pays the bills. SO, I keep going in and refrain from screaming.

Alex got the answer to all of our prayers. A new job. He was at his old job for over 8 years. It was time to move on. He had done all that he could do there. He hadn't had a raise in over 8 years. He was killing himself every day and he worked Saturdays. It was rough. He's always worked Saturday, longer than I've known him. But, it was getting increasingly hard with John. Sometimes I just wished that we could be a normal family on the weekends. But it was just a constant battle of trying to fit in a week of bullshit into a Sunday. Family time, Grandparent visits, errands, etc. It was tough.

He finally got the opportunity for an absolutely amazing job. We were so blessed that this came to us. He worked his ass of to make sure that he had everything that he could to help him get it and he did. We are so excited. He finished up his old job this week and he took a week and a half before he starts his new one. He gets out at 3:30 every day (instead of 5:30-6:00 like he used to). Not Saturdays (unless he wants to). Holidays. Time Off. Sick time. Pension. Amazing benefits. It's amazing.

So, imagine our surprise when everything seemed to fall into place. We always talked about how it would be impossible to have two children with his schedule. It was really hard to have so much time with John by myself. To have the main responsibility for needing to get him every day, or if he was sick, or getting everything he needs done. Now, Alex and I will both have a considerable amount of time with all of us together. It's just a whole different world.

And then everything fell into place. New job. New Baby. What a happily ever after.

Until it wasn't.

I'm feeling a bit...angrier today. I'm trying not to be because I know that it is such a long dark road. And I know that once you go down that road, it is SO hard to get off of it. But, it's hard. It's so hard. It was such an ugly place to be in. I just don't want to be there again. So I'm trying. I'm trying so hard.

I keep asking, "why", but I know that I will never know the answer.

I have an appointment with my doctor next week. Apparently more than one miscarriage is a "thing". Yeah... a "thing". So, that's fun. I don't honestly think that they will find anything, which will be frustrating in its own way, but at least we'll know.

I'm not sure what else to write. I think anything else at this point will be forced. But that's where we are. Life was looking up. Until it wasn't.

And here we are.

Again...

2016-08-29T07:00:00.000-04:00

I woke up this morning a little bit in disbelief that I am here again.

My head has been pounding for two days. I can't figure out if it is from the crying and stress or if it is from the drop in hormone levels. Dr. Google suggested I drink more water, which I did. I waited until the appropriate time and switched my beverage of choice to something with a little more kick.

Ahh the upside of miscarriages, all the wine you can drink.

It's hard to wrap my head around my "new normal". I was just getting into remembering that I was pregnant and that there were things that I could and couldn't do, eat, etc. I had come to the realization that I had forgotten a great deal of the "rules" before, so I was starting to do a little more research on things.

But, I guess I don't need to do that anymore. I can eat what I want. I can do what I want.

Lucky me.

I finally talked to my doctor today. She apologized for the shitty treatment I was given and basically confirmed everything that I was thinking. She was very sweet and I remembered why I stayed with her even though she is far from convenient now. She has been with me through my entire journey.

We scheduled an appointment for next week. She wants to make sure that my levels go back down to zero. She also wants to do some follow-up testing to make sure that there isn't a reason why this keeps happening. I'm not sure what's worse, the not knowing and it could happen at any time or there actually being a reason. If there is a reason, then maybe something could be done. Or not. So there's that.

The emotions come in waves. I'll be fine, going about my day, and then I remember. Remember what I don't have anymore. Remember that all of our plans have changed. Remember that everything is different.

My go-to reaction when my life is spinning out of control is to grab ahold of everything that I can control and try to make it all nice and neat and pretty. I'm trying to let go of my plan. Trying to ignore the fact that we are benched for at least the next two months, ruining all of our plans for next Summer. I have to remember that I will be so incredibly lucky for all of my plans to be ruined next Summer.

It pushes back all of our plans though. Makes it further between John and his sibling's age. But, I have to remember that I will be incredibly lucky to have John and his sibling have any difference in age.

This changes my whole perspective on a third child. Will be have to go through this again? How many times will be have to go through this again until we have a healthy, sweet baby in our arms? Will be ever have another healthy, sweet baby in our arms? What if John is all we get? Not to say that he is "all we get", he's more than I ever could have dreamed. I just always pictured myself surrounded by a couple little goobers. Looking around at the chaos of it all and being so incredibly thankful for how full my heart is.

The future is unknown and I think that's the scary part. Or maybe it is more that there's a future that I didn't know about looming before me. Is this a blip on our radar? Or is this our life now? How long do we do this? How much must we go through?

The waiting was tough before. I'm glad that we "hopefully" don't have to wait nearly as long as we did before to get started again, but that's still undetermined as well. Will things happen on their own? Will I need to go to the hospital again? When will things get back to "normal"? Will things get back to normal? What is our normal?

I'm trying hard to keep moving. To keep going. To just keep swimming. If I don't stop, then I can't drown right? I'm still letting myself feel, have my moments, talk. But, I'm trying not to dwell. But the waiting. The waiting is hard. Every day that we are "waiting" is a day that we do not have any control over this.

We don't have any control over this.

It's hard to let go of the life that you thought you would have. The life that you wanted. The life that you prayed for. It's hard to realize that there is another baby that you thought you were going have that you will never get to hold. It's hard to realize that I am back in this hell again. This deep, dark hell.

I can't believe I am here again.

The Waiting...

2016-08-26T22:55:00.001-04:00

It's been forever since I've written. Sometimes I miss it. The outlet. The relationships. I consider myself lucky that I have still maintained a great deal of my relationships with the amazing women that I met through blogging. I am lucky to have these women. They know some of my deepest darkest secrets. There's something safe about bearing it all to someone who doesn't know your "real life". In a world of people who spent most of their time talking about everyone else's news, rather than their own, there's a comfort in knowing that you were able to get things off your chest without anything changing in your day to day.

I think that's what drew me to blogging in the first place. I always kept a journal. A diary. Some place where my deepest darkest secrets were kept. Sometimes I wonder if I should hunt them all down and burn them. Wondering what would happen if anyone found them. I cringe at some things that I wrote. Embarrassed for decisions I made. But, I try to remind myself that all of those decisions went into who I am today. Good or bad. They shaped me. Just like all of my life experiences. Everything that I have been through, has deeply contributed to the person that I have become.

I guess that's what brings me back here. These "experiences".

It's happening again.

Alex and I had been talking about adding to our family for some time. The outside pressure from literally everyone we knew (including strangers at grocery stores) for us to have another baby was insane. Alex was more ready than I was. It just didn't feel right yet. But, we developed a timeline that we thought would work for us and moved forward. I had those small moments of panic when the time came. Like that moment before you jump out of a plane, where you wonder why you're doing this, and whether it is too late to turn back. But, I remembered that most of life's grandest adventures are scary, so we trudged on and I truly felt ready.

We followed the "rules". I read extensively about miscarriage risks. What could contribute to them. How long to wait. I started my prenatal vitamin the 3 months before we started trying, like I should. Then we waited. We had a timeline. A "perfect" month. One that would give me most of the Summer off without really impacting anything that we would want to do while I healed and we got used to being a family of four. (And when I say "we", I mean "me". Alex is of the "whenever" camp, and I am of the, "this is how I would like to plan my life to be". You know what they say God does when you plan right?)

So, we came to "perfect month" and I thought we had missed it. Things were weird. Things were different. Plans didn't go as I thought they would and I tried to remember that I have no control over this. That even if I do everything 100% perfect on my side, there is still some ridiculous chance of it actually happening, like 20% or something. So, I let it go. Until things changed.

And I knew. My gut. I knew. Everything was different. I knew. So I patiently waited for confirmation. But, even when I got it, I was unsettled. It wasn't dark enough. It wasn't clear enough. 74,000 tests later, I finally "relaxed" and accepted the news. I told Alex. We told Nicole and Jamie. And we went forward.

I told myself that I would let my past experiences shape this. That I was going to go through this with the utmost positivity. That despite my 50/50 record, this would work out alright. I called the doctor, made the appointments, but the problem is that she switched to a new practice. This new practice doesn't perform ultrasounds until 13 weeks, and that's only if you request that testing. I started to panic a little. That's too long. I explained my situation, I explained my past, and they agreed to do blood work. Hoping to score an early ultrasound, I went through the steps and waited for the results.

That's when the dread kicked in. The worry. Mother's intuition, right? The numbers came back low. So low. 137. As is protocol, they have you come back 2 days later, because you can tell nothing from one blood draw. I tried to quiet my worry, but I was unsettled. The next number, 72 hours later, 240. It didn't double.

I called the doctor immediately so that she could tell me that it was OK. That it was normal, they range greatly, that it almost doubled so it was close enough. I waited. Nothing. I called the next day. Nothing. Eight-thirty last night I received an email from her. She stated that my levels were low and not doubling like they should and I needed to go back today to get it drawn again. I tried to quiet the worry again. This happens all the time. Some are just slow starters. It would be OK.

But, when I was driving home I lost it. It was all too much. I couldn't believe that I was "here" again. I called my mom and cried. I wanted her to know about it before "it" didn't exist anymore, if it ever did. We had planned on telling our parents this weekend. Our friends next weekend. Wanting to not wait to announce our news this time. Wanting to make sure that we had an army of love and support around us, no matter what the outcome. I don't even think we will get there. I planned to announce early, but apparently not early enough.

So, I'm here. 5 weeks. Waiting to hear. I had no less than 8 million emails today, so far. None of them the test results. I didn't go into work today. I've just been wandering. I ran some errands. Got my nails done. Now I'm sitting eating lunch alone and writing. Waiting. No one knows where I am. I feel alone. All alone. I know I have people "with" me, but there's something so isolating knowing that whatever is going on, is going on in your own body. You're helpless. So is everyone else, but it's not their body.

I'm just wondering why? Why am I here again? Why do we need to do this again? Why can't I just have a normal, wonderful happy experience? Why does this have to be filled with dread and worry? Why are the minutes ticking away so slowly?

It was so hard before. So hard to pull myself out of that deep, dark, hateful hole that I was in. I didn't have John last time. While on some levels, I believe that it won't "allow" be to sink so low, I also know that still needing to be a mom to my one sweet blessing here on Earth, that I won't be able to fall apart like I know I'll need. There's no time for that when you're a mom.

Before, I found comfort in the fact that I have a large amount of friends that had been through it before. A fucked up club that we all belonged to against our will. But we were together in it. We laughed. We cried. We rallied around each other when we needed it. We shared. We drank. We held each other up. We got through it. But, this brings me into a new club. The "multiple miscarriage" club. Now it's a "thing". Not a one-off. Not a freak accident. Not a terrible memory buried underneath all of the baby snuggles from the babies that did make it. Now it's a "thing". A history. 50/50 to 1 in 3. I'm a new statistic. A new bracket. A new level of hell.

I just want to know why. Why is this year so terrible? Why did we lose Nanny and now my baby? Let's not even get into the other shitty things that have happened. We should be celebrating. The end of a shitty 6 months and finishing the year with a bang. Alex finally getting a new job. No more weekends. Early days. Being more of a family. A new beginning. A new adventure. A new baby. We should be rejoicing. Planning. Dreaming. Arguing over names. Starting lovingly at our sweet boy and feeling so damned lucky that we get to do it all over again.

Instead I wait. Alone. To find my fate. More blood draws? Ultrasound? Procedures? Doctors' visits? Changed plans? What will it be?

And here we go....the results are in...

The dropped. It's over.

Can I "So What?!" on a Thursday???

2015-11-05T09:13:00.002-05:00

Yesterday was bananas. Like, legit bananas. As in, I sat with my face down on my desk and just sat there, exhausted, not knowing what to do next. Yeah. It's been fun.

So... I will "So What?!" on a Thursday...

I deserve it!

This week I'm saying "So What?!" if...

* I may or may not have participated in drinking 3 glasses of champagne last night. I knew I was going to regret it, and already had a headache before I was done drinking, but still... it was so delicious.

* I could have bet a million dollars that after my champagne binge last night that the baby would be up early. He woke up around his normal time, but instead of hanging out in his crib 30-45 minutes playing like he does every morning, he wasn't having it. Ugh.

* I haven't found a good way for people to announce themselves into my cube. Some people come up behind me and just start talking, which scares the shit out of me. Some people knock. Some people clear their throat. It all bothers me. Maybe just don't come talk to me...

* I skipped my workout last night. I worked out 8 out of the last 9 days and I just needed a break. Mentally and physically. I plan on making it up today though. 3 mile run and then pilates later. I hear the weather is going to be so nice today so I can't wait to run outside!

* I feel guilty doing anything that makes me late to pick the baby up from daycare. Honestly, he's never really been there later than 4:30, but if I get caught at work late, go grocery shopping, run, have an errand to do, I feel bad. Like I should have picked him up earlier. The only thing that saves me if I know it's a selfish want. He would have MUCH more fun playing outside than running an errand with me.

* I am SO excited about the holidays. I know everyone is all bah humbug already, but I'm looking forward to it. Halloween was EXHAUSTING, but it was so much fun. I anticipate Thanksgiving and Christmas to be the same. I just can't wait to be with family and just soak up all the extra time I get with them.

* I have NO idea where I stand on when I want to have another baby. I have the biggest of baby fevers, but I am literally the only thing standing in my way. Alex is all on the "the sooner the better" train, and I can't quite figure out what my issue is. That's a whole other post though.

* Almost everything on my Amazon Birthday / Christmas list is super lame. It's all kitchen supplies and stuff I need that I don't want to buy.

* I'm feeling "ho hum" about my birthday this year. I feel like I should do it big because it's my 30th, but on the other hand, it's just another day in life. Maybe that's what comes with age. Who knows. My birthday is hard because it's December 20th. I wish it was in a warmer month, but alas, I am doomed to be a December baby forever. (Thanks Mom...)

I think that's enough for today. I got to work early (Thanks Baby...) and I have so far spent my time searching to see if I have unclaimed money with the government (I DO!) and talking with a coworker. And I have nothing else to show for my morning. Soooo.... that's all!

Five on Friday: Halloween Edition

2015-10-30T10:14:00.001-04:00

I'm really getting back into the swing of things with this link-up. I LOVED me a good link-up back in the day!

I'm so excited for this weekend. Between Halloween and the Harvest Festival this weekend, it should be a LOT of fun!

Now... let's get started!

One: pumpkins. It's all about the pumpkins right now. Little Man is OBSESSED. Seriously. They are everywhere, so we hear "punkin!" no less than 8 million times a day. Daddy of the Year went and bought him some more pumpkins the other day and surprised him when he picked him up from school. They were placed in all of these little places around the outside of the house for John to find them. Naturally, they have made their way inside. And are all places together. And in his cup holder...

Two: Halloween. I LOOOOVE Halloween. Alex, not so much. So, it is up to the babe to be my little Halloween buddy. So far though, it isn't looking good for this Mama. I bought him this cute monster costume and he wasn't having it.

Pissed.

I was going to attempt the monster costume for trick or treating at his school last night, but it was like 75 degrees so he would have been too hot. Lumberjack was out (which was my fall back plan), but he won't wear a hat. So we improvised. 10 minutes before we left the house.

Tom Brady

Three: Halloween again. But this time, for ME! I wasn't planning on wearing anything for work, but I got guilted into it. I came up with this whole elaborate plan and then slept in for the first time this week. So... thrown together gangster it is.

Four: Running Challenge Group is kicking my ass. I mean, I know I came up with the training plan, but DAMN! I am sore. I am tired. At least I know it's working! AND my T25 shirt came in the mail the other day. When you submit your before & after story, they send you a shirt with your program on it! I know it's just a shirt, but it represents all of the hard work I did, so it really means a lot more.

Five: Transitions. TimeHop can be a bitch sometimes. (Like reminding me of my tiny squishy baby.... Or a time where I could randomly go out and day drink with the ladies) But, it can also be a reminder of how far you have come. I remember that Halloween. Four years ago. I remember trying to throw something together for a costume. It was last minute because we were getting a huge snowstorm (I know... ridiculous) and Alex didn't know if he needed to plow. I remember feeling huge. And ugly. And sad. I was engaged, getting married in less than a year, and I was miserable. Now? A marriage and a baby later? I'm happy. I look at pictures of myself and I'm happy! For the first time in almost my entire life!

Welp, that's all I gots for ya today! Have a wonderful weekend and enjoy your Halloween! I will not because while I at first thought "How much candy can an 19 month old eat?" and told Alex that we get to eat most of it... someone posted a picture of just how much it would take to work off various "snack sized" candies. Ugh. Halloween. Ruined.

Linking up with a. liz adventures

It's my Baby and I'll Twerk if I Want to!

2015-10-28T11:08:00.002-04:00

It's a common theme that well-intentioned family, friends, and random strangers constantly want to know what you are doing with your life. Specifically, your body.

The questions come almost immediately once you reach a certain age or phase in your life.

When are you having a baby?

The questions are incessant. They can also be rather personal as well. I'm a firm believer that you never know someone's story and you should be careful with what you ask.

I remember when I was still picking up the pieces of my life, fresh off the news of our miscarriage, and having people ask when we were planning on having children. It was like a knife to my heart. Obviously, this person had no clue what I was going through, but wasn't that the point? With so many issues regarding fertility (not to mention just personal choices - maybe I didn't want kids or wasn't ready), it can be a hurtful subject for many people. Not to mention, none of your damn business.

Eventually, we were blessed with our sweet boy, but then we were met with the comments"

Well, you guys didn't waste any time.

In one world, I wasn't having children quick enough. In another world, because I got pregnant within the first year of marriage (and we also bought a house, but whatever), it was too quick. I can only imagine what the comments would have been if we were able to keep our first pregnancy. We got married in September, closed on our house in December, and found out we were pregnant at the end of January. The scandal!

Once our son was born it didn't take long before the questions started again.

When are you having another?

My answer is never good enough. I should do it sooner. I should wait longer. This person did this. This person did that. How many children do we want? That's too many. That's not enough. It never ends.

And that's just the conversations about getting pregnant.

The questions and comments that I received WHILE pregnant, were ridiculous. It was like all of a sudden, every single part of my life and my body were up for discussion. And as a relatively private person this didn't go over well for me. (I'm fully aware that I spill my guts for the entire internet to read, but honestly I can't see all of you people, so I get to be a little brave!)

I just don't understand why people think it is necessary or RIGHT to tell a woman what to do with her body and when. (I could get into the more "hot" topics regarding this issue, but I don't need to start a shit storm. We all have our opinions)

Would we ever say this to a man?

Never.

I was having this entire discussion with a friend at lunch the other day when I came back to work and ready this post.

It was about a woman, a dancer, who is currently pregnant, dancing in a dance routine with a class. Let's just start out by saying, that my dance moves resemble that of someone sticking their finger in a socket while standing in a pool of water on a GOOD day. When I was pregnant? Please. I couldn't even handle getting up from the couch with grace, let alone actually performing anything that might have slightly resembled a dance rather than a large mammoth having a seizure.

I applaud this woman. And in the attempt to never let the 90's go, I would just like to say, "YOU GO GIRL!"

But you know what happened?

Instead of people being amazed that she could still perform like this, while obviously having to work around a large belly, they shamed her. Told her she was hurting her baby. Possibly killing it. That she was irresponsible.

So... let me get this straight.

This woman, stayed in shape, was active, and kept up her daily life while pregnant, and she's a terrible person?

Hmm...

I'm sorry, don't we also shame those women who DON'T stay in shape during pregnancy and gain too much weight?

Aren't we constantly telling women that it is healthier for them AND the baby to stay active during pregnancy? That it helps with labor and delivery? And to have healthier babies?

We can't win.

Seriously.

Raise your hand if you are sick of society telling you what you can and can not, should and should not do with your body!

Yeah. That's pretty much how I feel.

So... the next time you go to ask someone about their personal life/body/gestating plans/etc. stop and think. Ask yourself:

Is this my business?

Would I want this person asking me this?

Could this be a sensitive subject?

Am I an asshat who has no idea about personal boundaries?

Just a few questions to stop you from making a mistake. Think before you speak people. Because if I have one more person as me one of the above questions, I can't guarantee what I'll do.

Now We Know: A Verbal Vomit of Marriage Life and Adjusting to Life with a Newborn

2015-10-26T12:11:00.001-04:00

I came across this article the other day. I'll give you a chance to read it quick.

If you won't want to read it, the whole premise of it is that the woman is talking about how when she had her baby, she never thought it would have been possible to hate her husband. In the middle of the night, in the middle of exhaustion, she hated him. He could do nothing right. But then again, neither could she. It was a tough transition for them and she often questioned whether or not they would make it. Would their marriage survive this?

I shared it on Facebook and hesitated a little bit before I hit the "publish" button. I'm pretty open and honest about my life. I don't sugar coat things. But, I was worried that people wouldn't agree with how I felt. Or didn't want to admit that they agree with how I felt. (Plus, I knew my mother in law might read it and I didn't really want her to think of me wanting to kill her son. But... then again, she's a mom of two kids, I'm sure she felt that way at some point)

Thankfully, a bunch of people shared it and commented on it. The jist that I got was "me too!", which made me feel better.

It also made me realize that 19 months later it was the first time that I really heard someone else put into words what I felt.

When we first brought John home, there was the honeymoon period, like there is with all stages of life! We were both pretty clueless, exhausted, nervous, and we were in it together. I couldn't have loved this man more. We just had a BABY together. It was just the most amazing feeling in the entire world.

And then Alex went back to work. He went back to his "old life" and while I know that he wishes that he could have stayed home with us longer and he worried about us all day, all I thought about was that he got to go back to his old life. He go to be himself again, and I didn't even know who I was. I spent 24/7 at home, usually by myself, and it was hard.

Alex had little to no experience with babies, so I was really on my own to try to figure stuff out. I talked to my mom a lot, and friends with kids, but it would have been nice to have someone IN it with me. That I wasn't the only one making all of the mistakes. Everything kind of snow-balled from there. I was doing most of everything, so it was a lot easier for me to just continue to do it rather than teach Alex how to do it. Or let him figure out his own way. I'm pretty particular in how I like things done, and I wanted him to do it MY way. But, he wanted to grow as a parent, as a father, he wanted to try his own things. It wasn't necessarily wrong, it just wasn't how I would do things.

Honestly, it took a lot of work to get US back. I remember when John was 5 weeks old, feeling SO far away from my husband, thinking that we would never find US again. I asked my mom if she would babysit one night so that we could go out to dinner. I wasn't ready to leave our sweet boy, but I needed to grab a hold of my married before it floated too far away.

So that's what we did. Once a month, we went out to dinner. Just the two of us. It wasn't long. We spent the entire time talking about the baby. But, it was just what we needed. Overtime, we got more comfortable leaving him. We left him for a little longer. A little more often. We started to see our friends more, which helped with feeling like our "old" selves again. For awhile it was hard because we never got time to ourselves, so if we had a sitter, we just kept it to us, but as he got older and we noticed that he really didn't care that we were gone since he was having so much fun with my parents, we went out a little more often so it was easier to spend time with friends.

It also helped that as he got older, we could bring him more places. I mean, sometimes I want to slap myself in the face because, duh, there's nothing easier to tote around then a tiny baby who can literally eat and sleep ANYWHERE, but we were dumb and new and nervous. We didn't know. (Our poor second child will be dragged all over creation!)

It got easier. We found us more. It took some time though. And it is still work to find time for us. It is SO easy to just get caught up in the entire world. The demands. The to do lists. It is SO easy to push each other aside because it's the "least important thing on your list", but that is SO wrong. SO WRONG!

You chose each other. You chose forever. To share a life. Through sickness and in health. For better or for worse. You owe it to yourselves and each other, to never lose that. A hard part for us was that we were never much work. I mean, it wasn't always sunshine and roses, but that connection was always there. This was work, and it was SCARY!

Now we know the importance of it. Even if it means just making sure that we sit together on the same couch, while doing two completely different things. Just to have that closeness. It all helps. Every single bit.

So know that it will suck. Know that you will kind of hate each other at times. That's normal. Just know that it isn't forever. It doesn't have to be anyway. It's just a season. But it's work. And you're worth it.

I guess I just wish someone had said it to me. That it was normal. That my marriage wasn't crumbling. That we could fix it. It was terrifying to be a new mom and wonder where our lives were going. And I know that some of it was probably dramatized because of lack of sleep and heightened emotions, but still. It was scary.

So... it's NORMAL. I'm sure we will go through it again with the next one. We'll have to reevaluate our lives again to adjust to the next squirmy little baby. But now we know. And we know what to look for. And that it's worth it. Now we know.

Five on Friday

2015-10-23T14:32:00.000-04:00

It has been a hot moment since I have linked up, but I figured what better day than now? Especially since one of my favorites, Christina over at Carolina Charm, is hosting one.

Five on Friday!

One: Last weekend, one of my friends was celebrating her 30th birthday. For the most part, all of my friends have either turned 30, or are turning 30 this year. I'm one of the last one's in December (short of a couple youngin's in the group), so it was fun to get the celebrations started. Naturally, I needed to use this as an excuse to bake. And being the good example that I am, I had to show that my dinner Friday night consisted of raw cookie dough and champagne. Because... why not?!

Two: Saturday was the celebration. We met around 11:00 AM (with me being late as always, ugh!) and jumped in the Limo (part of her Hub's birthday present) and headed to a winery. We stopped and grabbed lunch first, and then headed to where it looks like every other person in the world planned on going. We opted to skip the tour (since most of us had already been on it) grab some wine and some snacks from the limo and chat. It has been a LONG time since we had some day drinking and it was great to catch up with these fabulous ladies!

Three: Alex and I had talked about how we needed to get whatever we could out of the garden by Saturday night since our first frost was predicted. So... being the stubborn person I am, deciding since I started the garden I was going to finish it, I did it. Saturday night. In the dark. With a flashlight. Drunk. Yeah...but, I was successful and we got a whole bunch of stuff! Now, just waiting (hoping) that they ripen!

Four: Because I don't have enough going on, I decided it was time to resurrect Fraggle Creations. I have a Vendor Fair tonight, that sounded like a great idea two months ago when I signed up for it two months ago. I had plenty of time to prep. But then Beachbody took off like crazy and I got busy with that. So I had nothing. Which meant that I spent my week pulling my hair out prepping some inventory. I managed to pull it off and I am really looking forward to it. AND they decided at work that they wanted to do a "paint your own wine glass" night so they hired me to do it!

Five: We attempted Family Pictures this week. I say attempted because we were NOT successful. It started off great. We took some silly family pictures. We played outside. But then things ran late, John fell down the hill, he was over it, and finally after lots of tears and a busted lip, we called it a wrap. We are going to try it again on Wednesday, so I'm hoping we can be better prepared. If not... looks like this is our Christmas card...

Aaaaaand that's all I got for you today. I still have a big to do list to prep for tonight. But... the pain is temporary and they serve booze there, so I'll survive! Just sad to be missing my lil bub's bed time tonight.

Have a great weekend folks!

On Being a Working Mother... (Updated)

2015-10-16T07:30:00.000-04:00

I've written before about what it feels like since becoming a mom, and my thoughts on being a working Mother. I thought since it has been a considerable amount of time since I had written those, that I would give you an update.

You know... since I had a 3 month old at the time, and now I have an 18 month old. And a new job. And a new schedule. And a whole new set of crazy to deal with.

Being a working Mother blows. Still.

It's hard. There's so much pressure, and there's no way to do both jobs 100%. You're always failing at something. I try my hardest to make sure that I am doing the best that I can at both situations, but if I can't do 100% I never think I'm good enough. I'm working hard on changing that, because I know that I'm the only one putting that pressure on myself, but it's hard.

I have a new job now that makes things a little bit harder. I absolutely love my new job and my new boss (same company), but unfortunately the downside to a new job was that I lost my "work from home" days. Thankfully, the pay increase was enough to cover the cost of daycare, but just barely that, and it's been an adjustment.

I now have to deal with the fact that I have two less days at home to spend time with John, grocery shop, clean, plan, do anything really. It's been a tough adjustment. I find myself scrambling most weekends to get everything done. I no longer have the flexibility to throw some laundry in while I'm home, or work out at lunch, or clean here and there, or even take some impromptu trips to the park with Little Man.

It's been tough. I mean, don't get me wrong, sometimes when I am out running errands at lunch, by myself, and I see some crazy kid throwing a fit at Target, I thank my lucky stars that I get the chance to be by myself. But... then days like today, when all I see are Mamas and their babies being silly and cute, I can't help but think that someone else is getting to be silly and cute with my baby. While I work. And pay them an arm and a leg. (Well... the daycare. The workers get paid crap, but shit god damn is tuition expensive)

It's just tough. To scrimp, and save, and worry, AND miss out on time with the man. Unfortunately, I make just enough money for it to be worth it for me to work. I mean... I know I should be thankful, but I also know that these moments on fleeting and that I will blink and he will be at college. Every day I am reminded of how quick it all goes.

So... we make the most of the time we have. Take the time to relax together when we can. To focus on the family time, even when our "to-do" list is a mile long. Every so often, I get the ability to work from home, which is nice. It's just all been a big change.

So here's what we have been up to and how we are handling the adjustment...

We spend our Sunday mornings (the one morning we all get together) taking our time, watching some TV, and having a nice cup of coffee to get the day started.

We take the time to fit some work in when we need to and when we can.

We make sure to never take life seriously, and to know that dinner prep time can ALWAYS be used to try out some new fashion trends.

We take family car rides to run errands. Chatting and singing away. Making the most of every moment we have.

And we are enjoying every free moment outside that we can, before the wicked Massachusetts Winter holds up captive for months on end.

We make the most of the time we have. And do the best that we can with what we have. Whether it be time, or money, or whatever. This is all just a season and I know some day that it won't always be this hard. Unfortunately, Baby John will not wait for that day and is growing by the second (despite my requests to stay my tiny baby forever).

So, it's hard. I LOVE the Mother part. The working part... well... unfortunately we have all grown accustomed to a roof over our head, heat, electricity, clothing...FOOD! So, since we work to keep us in this lavish lifestyle that we are determined to live.

My Journey... so far...

2015-10-14T11:47:00.001-04:00

So, it's not secret that I've been on a fitness journey. With most of my life (short of the black hole of the past year) I always want to remember where I was and what I did. Since this is something that has been a huge part of my life, I really wanted to make sure that I document it.

I know that some day in the future, I'll find myself pregnant again, and trying to lost the baby weight AGAIN. I really want to make sure that I remember this. Not only so that I can remember to treat myself well while I am pregnant, to be healthier for myself and my baby, but also to remember that it's a journey. That I did it before, and I can do it again. To remind myself not to continue to push off something til "tomorrow". Because that's what I did.

Here is my "before" picture:

Notice the date? Yeah. August 2014. This was my beginning! I was going to DO THIS!

Except... I didn't. I did nothing. Absolutely nothing. (Other than be miserable)

You know when I DID start? January 5th. FIVE months later. Do you know that I could be 5 months further into my journey? 5 months further into my progress? Do you know what we did in those 5 months?

We did family pictures. Celebrated our baby's first Thanksgiving. Celebrated my birthday. Celebrated our baby's first Christmas. All of those events involve countless pictures (the ones I DID take, not the ones I dodged) that I hate looking at. I hate they way I look. I know I look uncomfortable, because I'm probably thinking of how bad the pictures will look. That was most of my baby's first year. Avoiding the camera. Hating the pictures we took. I can't believe I did that to myself.

So, I had enough. I started January 5th and got my eating on track. I logged everything that I put in my mouth. If it wasn't in my calories, I didn't do it. I only drank on the weekends, and even when I did, it wasn't a lot. I needed to lose the baby weight (I still had 15 to lose) and my goal was his first birthday, March 22nd.

I lost 9 lbs that month. And nine inches. JUST from changing my diet.

February, I got started working out again. I dusted off the old T25 and I did. Every day. Even when it killed me. Even when I didn't want to. Even when it was hard. Eventually, it became part of my routine and I started to look forward to it (well... I didn't dread it).

I got through Alpha in the 5 weeks and moved onto Beta. Beta was my JAM! Alpha has a lot of cardio in it, which is what I needed, but I was so out of shape that it was tough. It got easier, but it was tough. Beta brought in a lot more weights, so I really enjoyed that. By the time I was about 3 weeks into Beta, I knew I was hooked and I ordered Gamma to make sure I had it in time to continue on.

5 weeks of Beta. Done.

Then I started Gamma. And then life got busy. And then it was the Summer. And then I started that damn program over THREE times before I finally finished it. My last day of Gamma was October 1st. 8 months after I started. A 15 week program took me 8 months. BUT, I did it. I kept with it.

Although it just goes to show, if I had just kept with it, where would I be now? I still have about 8 more lbs to hit my goal. I still have areas that I want to work on. BUT... I don't want to focus on what I could have done, or I should have done. The important part is what I DID do, and that was kick some serious ass.

Check it out for yourself:

That's me now. Notice the big difference? Yeah. I do too! It's the smile. I'm wearing a bathing suit, taking a picture, and I am SMILING. That's the big difference that I notice. Yeah, there's a huge change in my body. BUT, I most love the big change in ME! As a person. I'm happier. I'm more confident. It's a big difference, from how MISERABLE I was.

Take a look at them together:

And here's the results in numbers:

30 pounds. 30 inches.

Not THAT is progress!

And now, I just can't stop. I've been doing PiYo for the last couple weeks, and then I'm starting a Runners Challenge Group on the 26th. It's been really great being a coach because it's definitely keeping me motivated to keep going with my journey.

And then the next excitement? The new Hammer & Chisel workout comes out December 1st. It's all about weights and building muscle, which I am definitely down for. T25 helped me lose the weight and define. PiYo is definitely helping me define a bit more, but Hammer & Chisel will DEFINITELY get me tones! Hopefully I'll be meeting my goals soon!

My new plan is to (hopefully) hit my goal weight and be about 95% happy with the progress I'm making on my "rough" areas by my 30th birthday, which is December 20th. I mean, I don't know a better way to enter my 30's than to be in the best shape of my entire life.

So that's what I've been up to. When I'm not running around work like a crazy person, or doing 12,000 things to make sure the baby/husband/dog have everything they need, whilst making sure that I stop that baby from doing the 20,000 things that will end up with him in the Emergency Room (there's no time for an ER visit in the schedule), I'm working on ME. It has helped so much with my stress, my self confidence, my sleep. I'm so glad I finally took the time to do this for myself.

Dating, Blonde Bombshells, and Clean Eating

2015-10-05T11:05:00.001-04:00

What's been going on?! Long time no talk.

I know, I'm all "oh hey, back to blogging" and then radio silence.

Life is BUSY. As I'm sure everyone else is.

Let's backtrack, shall we?

Alex and I finally were able to head out to celebrate our anniversary (3 weeks late). I can't believe that it has been 3 years since we said, "I do!" Time sure has flown. We were at the mercy of our babysitters so that's why we needed to wait so long. Oh the difference of before vs. after kids. Our anniversary was on a Tuesday, so I was NOT bringing an overtired baby out to dinner after a long day at daycare. On our actual anniversary, we just did take-out and drank some adult beverages, reminiscing about the past few years.

When we were able to REALLY celebrate our anniversary, my parents took Baby John for the night. Originally, the plan was for us to have a yard sale to get rid of all of the junk in our basement on Sunday, so we had him stay over so we could get everything ready without him running crazy. But, I forgot that we are lazy and our follow-through sucks, so there was no yard sale. Shocking. But we kept the overnight sitting anyway... duh.

I have to admit, the baby sleepover always sounds like a good idea until he's gone, and then we miss him. We try not to do it too often, but there are some cases that it is just easier for my parents to have him at their house. Plus, they have a whole Baby Vegas thing going on there, so it's kind of like his home away from home.

We couldn't figure out where we wanted to go, as usual, so we finally settled on this delicious pizza place. I know you're thinking "Pizza... so fancy...", but it's one of those nice pizza places. They have other food there too, but you go there for your pizza. It was delicious.

We started the night with some beers in the garage. The baby monitor doesn't reach out there, so unfortunately our nights of drinking in the garage came to a screeching halt once Baby J came. Felt like old times.

After dinner, we were going to head to another place for a drink and some dessert. It's this restaurant that I have been dying to try, and it's known for it's dessert. But, as we were driving out to it, we were behind a muscle car at a red light. Alex made a mention about how this was a good night for a ride, and I knew our plans had to change. We were right by the turn to go to our house, so I told him to take it and we should go for a ride in the Chevelle.

Along with garage beers, Chevelle rides were another thing of the past. In fact, I don't think I have been in that car since July of LAST year. Yeah. I encourage Alex to clear it off and take it for a ride every so often, but unfortunately they frown upon leaving your child home alone (even when they are sleeping), so I don't usually get to ride too.

I of course stayed in the warm truck while he warmed the car up. It was a bit chilly out, but it was a blast!

It's SO important to make sure that you continue to date your spouse, especially after kids. It's so easy to get lost in daily life, responsibilities, etc. But, you are married for a reason. You bound yourself to each other for LIFE for a reason. Don't forget that. Take time for yourselves. John had a blast at his grandparents' house and could not have cared less that we weren't around.

After I successfully ate to my heart's content that weekend, it was time to get back down to business. The scale hadn't moved in a long time and I knew why. My eating sucked and I wasn't working out as much as I should. I tried and tried to get back on, but I knew I needed a drastic reset.

Enter... the 3 Day Refresh.

I tried this before and while I had great results, I struggled. I went into it with wanting to drop some weight quick, and not with the right mindset. I also didn't have coffee, which should probably be illegal. I was GROUCHY.

This time, I went into it knowing I needed to be healthy. Knowing I needed to give my body good stuff, and it was SO much easier. (Plus, I drank coffee. Duh.)

Day One food. (Minus dinner) Trust me, I was NOT hungry, AT ALL!

The results were AMAZING. I felt great after the 3 days. I lost 5.4 lbs, and an inch EACH around my waist, hips, and thighs. Definitely worth it.

3 Day Refresh Results

I had planned a Clean Eating Challenge Group for the same week, and it could not have been better timing. It really kept me on track the rest of the week to go from the Refresh to good eating.

I made the Turkey Burgers and I was hesitant because I'm not a huge fan of Turkey burgers, and they didn't have much in them (no egg, no breadcrumbs) but they were absolutely DELICIOUS. I put a little fresh Parmesan Romano cheese on it, because, cheese, but they were still low cal even with that. (I also whipped out my scale because what I "thought" was 4 oz, was actually closer to 6. I need to get better with weighing my food and not guessing. That's another problem of mine)

And lastly, in random things about me that you probably don't care about, but I do. I made my appointment with my hair dresser to go back to my "natural" brown for the Winter. I say "natural" because I have been coloring my hair since I was 13 and Lord knows what the actual color is. I think it is kind of an ashy brown/blonde thing, but I know it isn't pretty.

However... the closer to got to the appointment, the more I realized that I loved the blonde. SO, we just added some low-lights to "Fall-ify" it and called it a day. I love it!

I made my next appointment to go back to brown in November, but who knows what I will actually do. I'm kind of digging the blonde. My bank account is not. But... what does my bank account know about life? Exactly.

Welp... that's all I got for today! Hope all you lovelies are having a fabulous Monday!

We Will NEVER Forget

2015-09-11T12:20:00.005-04:00

I'm feeling a little emotional today.

I'm pretty sure everyone in the country is feeling a little emotional today.

Every single year, I'm brought back to that day. Those moments. Today they were asking where everyone was when the world stopped turning. I know everyone remembers.

Me? I went home sick that day. Early that morning actually. I had heard something about it while I was in the nurse's office, so I turned on the news as soon as I got home. I remember sitting on our coffee table, not moving. Just stunned. Trying to make sense of it all. We had no idea what was happening at that time.

As we found out more information, the fear grew.

I remember talking to a friend online later that day. Finding out new information. Worrying about what this all meant. My current boyfriend, his best friend, was in boot camp for the Navy at the time. When they started talking about the military, I wondered what this would mean for him. For us. For everyone.

I remember being sick to my stomach as my "friend" told me that he would probably be deployed right out of boot camp. That he would go to war, and there was a very good possibility that he would die.

Good friend.

This was way more than my 15 year old mind could handle. It was already WAY too much of an emotional situation when he was gone and now I literally had no clue how to process any of this information. I was numb.

For the record, he did not get deployed. He is living happily in California (at least that's where he was a billion years ago when I spoke to him last).

He was scheduled to graduate boot camp on September 20th and his mom and I were flying out to see him. Things were still tense, but thankfully we were flying out of a smaller airport, so it wasn't so bad. We were the first group that was allowed on base to watch the graduation since the terrorist attack. We needed to meet in a strip mall parking lot, we were searched by the navy officials, and then boarded a large bus that drove us onto the base.

It's amazing to think that this was all 14 years ago. I feel like it happened yesterday. I can remember it like it was yesterday. All of it.

It amazes me that something that happened so long ago, still has such an emotional effect on a nation. In a world where we are more concerned with what Kim Kardashian is doing, rather than what really matters, I'm proud of us for remembering this. This wound has not healed. And it won't heal. And because of that, it will never be forgotten.

It's a shame that it takes such an absolutely tragic event for us to come together as a nation, but at least we know it is possible.

I found this on Facebook last night, and it really resonated with me. It shows us that tomorrow is never guaranteed, and that we should always remember to say "I love you":

At this moment, 14 years ago, millions of Americans

went to bed quietly,

with not thought that the next morning their world

would change forever.

That night, hundreds pack flight bags

they would not live to open.

Thousands, slept with loved ones for the last time.

One never knows what a new day has in store.

Let us live each day to the fullest,

and never miss a chance to let those dearest to us

know of our love for them.

So, TONIGHT, if you have someone in your life that you love,

tell them...

Three Years... and to Many More!

2015-09-08T09:29:00.001-04:00

Three years...

Damn does time fly!

I can't believe that it has been three years since I married my best friend. It was one of THE most amazing days of our lives. Everything was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

There isn't a day that goes by that I regret my choice. I know that we are the lucky ones that found our soul mates. The people we were meant to be with. We found our happily ever after.

I am constantly reminded of how amazing of a husband and a father he is. He is constantly working hard for us. Spending all day long working on cars in the heat, or the freezing cold, to make money. And then coming home and continuing to do it. Or working on the house. Or plowing.

It's such a comforting feeling to be able to go through life knowing that we will be OK. No matter what. We are far from rich, and there are times when things are VERY tight, but I never have to worry too much. I know that we have Alex. And he will figure it out.

We are a team. We are complete opposites. We have virtually nothing in common. But we work. We talked about this the other night, the realization that we have pretty much NO common interests. At all. The thing that works for us though, is that we are interested in each other. So if it is important to him, I make the time to be involved with it, or understand it. And he does the same. We've been married for 3 years, together for almost 8 1/2, and we just realized that we have nothing in common. It's never been an issue.

I love watching his relationship with our son grow. To watch our sweet boy's face light up when he sees that his daddy is home. To watch the day's sweat and wear wash off Alex's face the second he sees his boy. It's like his day never mattered in that moment. To watch them together, two buddies, just the guys, hanging out, is amazing.

He truly is the most amazing man that I have ever met. I am so unbelievably lucky that I get to call him mine!

So tonight, after out sweet boy goes to bed, we'll order some take out, open some champagne, and sit down together with our wedding flutes, as we do every year, and talk about how much our lives have changed over the past year. And how we can't wait to see what else life has in store for us.

He's my husband, my love, my best friend. My always and forever.

What's Been Going On...

2015-09-01T10:31:00.000-04:00

A lot can happen in a year. A LOT can happen in 13 months. Throw a baby in the mix and life is literally NOTHING like it was at this time last year. Nothing. We get a lot more sleep now, which is nice. Haha.

In June, Alex and I got to have a little bit of the pre-baby life when we had our first full night away from the baby. (Although, at this point I should probably put "baby" since he is a horse) We had never planned on waiting this long for a night away, it just worked out that way. We were in Boston for a family wedding, that just so happened to include our babysitters (a.k.a. my parents) so our dear friend Nicole held down the fort for us at home. It was a two day event, that Alex couldn't make the first half of, so Baby J was my date. I contemplated the ramifications of bringing a baby to a wedding... in Boston...outside... but left with legit no choice other than to bring him or not go, I put on my big girl panties and brought him. He was an angel and I had a lot of help. But... yeah... babysitters are the way to go.

Saturday night was filled with delicious food, a hotel room, and an open bar. I should also mention that the Reception was within walking distance from the hotel and we got a pedicab back (in the pouring rain), so we took full advantage of this and partied like it was 1999... (or at least like we were 21 and could handle the hangover)

(Little sidenote... as a Congratulations to myself for kicking ass and losing my baby weight, mixed with my Mother's Day present, I went blonde for the Summer. I'm madly in love with it and I never want to go back. I mean... I will because I'm poor and blonde is not a good Winter look for me, but I love it!)

We had way too much fun and Sunday morning brought along the consequences of our actions and a mad dash to the vending machine to grossly overpay for a bottle of Gatorade. Although, that Gatorade tasted so good at that point that I probably would have traded Baby J for it! (Kidding!... kind of...)

It was nice to let loose, and recharge our parental batteries. The Gods smiled upon us and gave us a cold, rainy Sunday and a 4 hour nap to recover. Baby J got exactly 14,000 episodes of Mickey Mouse Club House and whatever snacks he pointed his tiny, pudgy fingers at.

Survival Mode Parenting at its finest.

Continuing in the world of "All About Me"... in January I decided to finally get off my ass and do something about my weight... again. We all went through the struggle together before when I was getting married and I couldn't believe that I had let myself get back to this place again.

I was miserable. Nothing fit. I refused to buy new clothes. I was WAY out of shape. When I was having trouble standing up getting Baby J out of the bath, I knew I had to get it together. This wasn't the mother that I wanted to be.

So... I set a goal to lose the rest of my baby weight by his 1st birthday (which was emotionally devastating, but we all made it through with minimal tears; note: I'm the only one who had a problem with it... shocking...) and I did it! With a couple weeks to spare.

I started by tracking what I was eating and then in February I started T25. Alpha was tough, but once I got into the weights in Beta I was HOOKED! I'm on Gamma now and madly in love. I'm not about 15 lbs LIGHTER than I was when I got pregnant and about 5 lbs lighter than when I got MARRIED! Which is insane to me. Although, it's funny to look at the scale and then look at pictures. I may only be a few pounds different, but the difference in my body is CRAZY. I definitely have more muscle this time around. It makes so much of a difference to following a program that works and that you LOVE!

A year difference. Absolutely crazy.

I've become completely addicted to this new lifestyle and it feels amazing. I'm definitely not so strict with myself now that I'm within 10 lbs of my goal weight, but I'm not stopping now. I've totally drank the BeachBody Kool-Aid.

I was so inspired by how far I had come that I wanted EVERYONE to know how great all of this was, so I became I Coach again. I was a Coach last Fall for a hot second, but I wasn't ready to really be serious about this. And timing is everything. Once I was in though, I was HOOKED!

We do a lot of challenges that are absolutely amazing for the support and the motivation. They also lead to a lot of these gems on my phone...

I mean... I know Alex knows he is such a lucky man, but I feel like if he saw these pictures he would just fall in love with me all over again. I mean, who doesn't love awkward sweaty selfies?!

And now onto the reason I'm sure you all are here, because no one cares about us anymore. It's all about the Mini Man!

He's amazing. Honestly, I know I'm his mom, but he's legit one of the best kids I have ever met. He's funny, he knows how to do stuff to make you laugh. He's sweet, and smart, and inquisitive. He's just the best thing ever.

He's also attached to my hip most days (thank you Separation Anxiety), along with Felix (who is now referred to as Dog-A). So, this is my scene most days:

Best friends, who are never too far away. Most of the time they both need to be touching me. Sometimes (rarely) they love on each other and I can watch from a distance. With no one touching me. Drinking a beverage that I don't have to share. Or sneaking a snack (who else has the Mom-cough down so that your kids don't hear you opening a food wrapper or the refrigerator?)

So life looks a lot different. A lot crazier. Busier. Stressful. Happy. Exciting. Full-filling. It's SO different. But SO much better!

Blink and You Miss It

2015-08-27T09:46:00.000-04:00

I've been feeling the itch to write lately. Coupled with the fact that so many people have started to come back to blogging, posting about how they miss it, my feed has been a constant rolling announcement of "I'm coming back". I kept thinking, that I want to be back. I miss it. Not one to just jump on the bandwagon because all of the "cool" kids are doing it, I more like to consider this a sign of where I should be. I mean, if I was really over it, I would have stopped checking my feed.

I haven't quite figured out how to do the whole "back to blogging" thing, while still maintaining the privacy of my sweet baby boy. I mean, that's why I went AWOL in the first place. I could barely throw a post together, but now I was supposed to watermark, and protect pictures, and approve requests to follow from people, hoping they didn't steal all of the information. It's a crazy world out there. I may just keep pictures of him off here. I may figure out how to post some things, while still maintaining his safety. I continue to keep him off Facebook and limit my Instagram followers to friends and close family so they can see him there. It's terrible that it has all come to this. That I can't post a picture of my son without wondering if someone is going to view it with malintent.

But, I digress. That's not why I'm here.

I'm here because I just posted a novela as my Facebook status because I was so overcome with emotion halfway through that I needed to keep writing. Yeah... that's not what Facebook is for. I'm pretty sure they used to have a character limit, and it was for people like me, who want to drone on and on whilst crying into their phone, their tears messing up the touch screen causing it to autocorrect to asinine things.

Here's what happened...

The last time I posted about Baby J, he was four months. So... that was 13 months ago. Babies tend to do this strange thing called "growing", and they do it A LOT over 13 months. I mean... I tried not feeding him, knocking him down when he was trying to move, etc. but the dang kid just kept thriving. He's now a walking, running, talking, crazy little man who has his own personality and wants and needs in the world. He is absolutely hands down THE most amazing thing that Alex and I have done with our lives. We are constantly amazed with how much he learns and how quickly he picks things up. His vocabulary is exploding and he is quick as a whip. He started daycare about a month ago and let's just say that while the weekly bill makes me want to crawl under my desk in the fetal position, we are definitely getting out monies worth.

For most of his life, Baby J has practically transitioned himself. It's just what he has done. Sleeping in his crib, drinking out of a sippy cup, eating real food, he just decided when he was ready (long before I was ready, but when I at least had it on the horizon that I would start trying), and just like that, he was done.

At his 12 month appointment, his doctor told me to get rid of the binky and the bottles. At this point he was only having a bottle in the morning when he woke up and right before bed. Alex cuddles with him in the morning. I cuddle with him at night. WE weren't ready to give it up.

At his 15 month appointment, his doctor told me to get rid of the binky and the bottles. I was coming around to the idea of the bottles, but knew we were going on vacation and then he was starting daycare so I wasn't going to rock the boat. And the binky thing, we are cool with... for now...

Let me take a side road on the binky here. I don't plan on my kid being 4 still walking around with a binky in his mouth. I believe it is totally up to each parent/child/family when it is right for you to get rid of it, and as along as they don't show up to their first day of high school with it, I call it a win. Right now, he sleeps with it (but doesn't wake up if he loses it) and he uses it to calm himself down. He doesn't have the verbal skills or the cognition to work through why he is upset sometimes. Sometimes he is just hungry, and tired, and over it. So, when he's losing it, he grabs his binky and his blankie, and calms himself down. Which I think is amazing. So that's our stance on the bink.

Anyway... coming up on his 18 month appointment, I knew it was time for his bottles to go. I made the decision that next Monday, August 31st would be the day. Cold turkey. No more bottles.

Except... for the past couple days, he hasn't wanted them. Not in the morning. Not at night. Refuses. Last night, he politely pushed the bottle away, said, "no no", gave me a good snuggle, and then went to bed. This morning, I gave him a sippy cup with milk and he was happy as a pig in slop.

But, I wasn't ready. I was ready for THIS Monday. I was ready for Sunday night, to sit with him in his chair, like I have done every night since he was born. Give him his bottle. Rock him. And have a little moment as my baby, once again, gives up one of his "baby" things.

I can't remember his last bottle. I don't know if it was Sunday or Monday. Morning or night. Was I rushing? Was I trying to get him to go to sleep so I could do one of the 8,000 things I need to do after bedtime? Did I not even have him? Was Alex the last one to give him a bottle? Did he get to suck up every last ounce of this "baby" thing? I don't know. I can't remember. It made me cry a little, surprisingly. I mean... I know that this is AMAZING. Some people have to fight and fight and fight transitions, and he rocks them. But he's my baby.

I have a whole box of his tiny baby things. Some I have saved for future baby(s). Some are just in a box because I can't throw them away yet. His tiny baby bottles. From when he was so little. His itty bitty baby binkys. The ones he found and tried to use, and then giggled like he knew that those were for tiny babies and he is a big guy.

It goes so fast. I just didn't think I would get so emotional over something so little as his bottle, but here I am. Sitting at my desk. Crying. My little man is growing up and it is beautiful. Beautiful, and amazing, and wonderful, and a little sad. He will never be that tiny little baby anymore. That tiny baby on those cold nights, bundled up with my in a blanket in his rocking chair, at 3 in the morning, just me and him, drinking a bottle, and rocking back to sleep. It felt like there was no one else in the entire world at the moment, it was just me and him.

Oh man, this Mama business is tough work. I mean, let's not even talk about the emotional strain of all the WORRY! Is he OK? Will he get hurt? Am I keeping him safe? Etc. etc. etc. But the emotions that go along with the GOOD are just as strong and overwhelming sometimes. It is not for the faint of heart.

So, now I'll pack up all of his bottles. And put them with the rest. Maybe I'll throw them away. Maybe I'll put them on a shelf until I'm ready to let them go. He may be done with them, but I'm not quite there yet. His Mama isn't quite as good at transitions as he is. It's obviously something he got from his father. But, I'm learning. I'm trying. For him. My big guy.