The Rabbit Test

2013-05-13T14:37:00.000-05:00

I live in the middle of the country and, though we are supposed to be pretty safely entrenched in Spring come May, we managed to get a freak snowstorm about a week ago. After weeks of morning walks in the brisk but cheery air, June thought that being cooped up in the house all day was pretty disheartening. Honestly, so did I. There's only so much coloring a girl can do! This winter's been hard on the soul.
Now, though, another handful of days have gone by and it's a beautiful 72 degrees. All is right with the world! Birds chirp and flowers bloom and all of that jazz.
It's amazing how much a little sunshine will build you back up.
June is 20 months old today.
She makes me laugh. She makes me smile and sigh, "You're so funny" like five times a day. It's crazy, guys. It seems like, just a minute ago, she was this whiny baby who didn't know up from down. Then I blinked and this little person appeared. Like, where did you even come from, kid?
This shit's crazy.
I love it.

Guess What? I'm not dead!

2013-02-01T15:43:00.000-06:00

I doubt anyone will see this, as I've been MIA for....oh, just about 17 months now. That is, coincidentally, the age of my little Junebug. I'm working from home most days and in the office for a couple of afternoons a week. This arrangement has been...interesting. June isn't what you would call an "easy" toddler. If I'm going to be honest with you (and why wouldn't I be?), she drives me completely fucking crazy. I love her. That's a given. I love her to the ends of the earth. But I was definitely not prepared for her special level of neediness. She whines and cries for the vast majority of her day. There are brief periods of respite, but they are few and far between. She knows what tons of words mean, but she still refuses to talk. I can tell her, "June, please go get your blanket," and she will do so. However, no matter what I do, I cannot get her to actually say, "blanket." Or anything, for that matter. She won't even say "mama." I don't know what to do. Our pediatrician said she doesn't show signs of autism and just suggests the same things everyone else does: Explain your world to her! Make her ask for things! Look at her in the eyes when you speak!

This does not work. Nothing does, you guys.

Anyhow, that's where I'm at right now. I'm busy, frustrated, and struggling for something, anything that will make me feel like these 17 months of struggle with colic and craziness has been worth it. Something that makes me feel like she's connecting to us and to the world around her.

Until then, we just move on. I'll play with the play-doh, I'll sing the peppy childrens' songs. I'll do what I'm "supposed" to do to teach her. On the inside, though, I'm really just yearning for something more.

June is One!

2012-09-13T06:13:00.001-05:00

A year ago today, I was in complete and utter pain. A year later, I just have the sniffles!

Today is June's first birthday. I know it's been a loooong time since I posted. Life has been busy and the year has been rough. Anyhow, I wanted to update this blog a bit and let some of you who may still be around know that I'm alive. As evidence, I offer the following.

Ten Things I Like About My Kid:
1) She absolutely must be holding either a mouse pad or a video game if she's drinking milk. She will literally squirm out of my arms and crawl to the other end of the room to retrieve one if she isn't given one right away.
2) She has a super mischievous smile sometimes that makes her look like she has many secrets... even though she's one and knows nothing about anything.
3) She can barely walk four steps without falling, but she somehow manages to climb up everything.
4) She is still amazed by the same leaves, sticks, and rocks that she always plays with outside. Even if you bring toys out there, she will always go back to her leaves.
5) She will eat anything. I have yet to find a food she refuses.
6) Her most fun indoor game is to pull everything out of drawers and cabinets. This one's actually pretty annoying, but it saves money on real toys.
7) She loves her morning walks as much as I do.
8) She makes a weird goblin sound all the time and ladies look at us funny in the store. One person said, "I was wondering what that noise was. It was so weird!" (It's a goblin. Duh.)
9) She is not scared of dogs, even when they bark in her face.
10) She says "dada" when she's happy and "mama" when she's sad. I'm gonna take that as a compliment, though. So, whatever.

18 Weeks Old

2012-01-16T15:14:00.003-06:00

So, it's been a looong time since I've posted. My main excuse? Exhaustion. Like, utter, total fuck- me-this-can't-be-my-life exhaustion. I know that everyone forewarns expectant parents of this and, like every expectant parent, I flipped these Negative Nancys off in my head and told myself, "Whatever. It's not like I've had an easy pregnancy. I'm USED to not sleeping."

Guys, I was wrong. I mean, sure, I was used to frequent bouts of insomnia and three bathroom breaks a night. I was certain that I had reached a solid 8 on the Official Exhaustion Scale and a 10 couldn't break me. I was wrong on both accounts.

Anyhow, June is now 4 months old (18 weeks tomorrow). She has finally grown out of her Colic Shit Storm, but she is not, by any means, an easy baby. I was up three times with her last night for hour-long nursing sessions. That's on top of the two hours it took to actually get her down the first time. This is normal for us. So, even though she's begun to coo and smile like a horribly delicious little bundle of cuteness, she still leaves me sputtering on fumes throughout the day. Luckily, those giggles are really helping to make it all seem worthwhile.

For the record, I did not put baby girl in this hat. I've got kind of a "less is more" mindset. If the little one wants to rock that big flower, though, more power to her. It's a little Summer 2000, but I'm not going to be the one to tell her.

7 Weeks Old

2011-10-31T11:19:00.004-05:00

This is just a quick post to say that I'm alive, as is June. She'll be seven weeks old tomorrow. People often say, "Where has the time gone?!" To me, though, these seem like the longest seven weeks of my life. I love her. I adore her. But this shit is HARD right now. She has colic. I mean, she has some serious fucking colic. If that kid's not eating, she's usually crying. Napping during the day is rare. Sleeping at night is getting better, but it still takes a good two hours to actually get her down at first.

Still, I would not give it up. I know this is a phase and I've been through my fair share of waiting shit out in the past year. My pregnancy was rough and I got through that. I know we'll get through this too.

There are moments, though. Moments like these--where she is adorable and content and I think, "This is what I've been waiting for."

Also, I'm going back to work in ten days and I am currently trying my damnedest not to think about it. More on that later, I'm sure.

The Arrival

2011-09-23T09:08:00.005-05:00

Well, June is now ten days old and I'm maybe, sorta, kinda starting to get the hang of this. Dude, I knew new babies were trying, but you don't really understand it until you're faced with one, screaming its head off at 3 a.m. while you desperately try to shove nipple into its mouth.

Her journey to the outside of my womb started at the very beginning of last Tuesday--about midnight. I woke up to some labor pains. I was sure that's what they were, but wasn't sure they'd actually stick around. They were painful but manageable. I didn't wake up C until about 2:30. I told him they'd been coming for a couple of hours, but they were kind of sporadic--5 minutes apart, 7 minutes apart, etc. He started keeping track of them and, by about 5:00 a.m. they were coming pretty consistently at 5 minute intervals. They never became any closer together, though, so we decided to lay down for a while. Well, I literally grabbed his hand in bed and squeezed through that pain every five minutes for the next couple of hours. He'd be drifting off to dreamland when, all of a sudden, I'd be clamping on like a rabid dog and he'd try to soothe me for the next minute until it subsided. By about 7:00 a.m. the pain was getting pretty rough and my contractions were still very consistent at 5 minutes apart, so we decided to go to the hospital. Once we checked in and they checked my cervix (which had been at a zero during my last appointment), they said that I was already at a five.

The doctor came in and broke my water and that's when my "I am woman, hear my roar" confidence shattered into a million pieces. The pain at that point was completely horrible. The entire time, my doc had been pressuring me into getting an epidural (I know), and I had been saying, "I want to get through as much without it as I can." Well, I had done just that and, when she offered again, I exclaimed, "Yes, anything!" I swear that chick has stock in that drug company.

Anyway, the epidural took about an hour to arrive and kick in and that whole time is just a blur right now. I'm pretty sure my mind blocked it out because of the pain. They checked me once the drugs kicked in, though, and I was already dilated to a ten. I was ready to deliver about two hours after I had arrived at the hospital. I couldn't feel a damn thing below my waist, which was A-okay with me at that point. I pushed little June out without any pain and while chit chatting with the staff and completely content.

We had a pretty uneventful hospital stay and returned home with our new little one last Thursday. Since then, it's been quite a learning experience. Having C off work for this first week has been amazing and I'm sincerely dreading him returning to work on Monday. It's not that I don't think I can handle her on my own--obviously it'll all work out. It's just that it's been so nice being able to feed her and then hand her off so that I can shower/eat/dress/check email...basically feel human. The company's not half bad either.

June and I are still both trying to get the hang of breastfeeding. She becomes a crazy goblin and won't latch on for the first 10-15 minutes of feeding times. She'll put the nipple in her mouth, and spit it out. She'll mash it in all wonky. She'll get only the tip and sip on it like a princess. Basically, she'll do everything but what she's supposed to. Then, magically, she'll get it right and the relief I feel cannot be described. We go through this every.single.time. So feedings tend to last a lot longer than they need to. This is really frustrating.

But then there are times like this... times when everything's peaceful and perfect and I remember how much I longed for her. I remember all the trying times--the tests, the pills, the IUI's, the endless worries. I remember that and look at her and think about how damn lucky we are. She's amazing.

Introducing...

2011-09-14T15:28:00.003-05:00

June!

She was born yesterday, September 13th, at 10:10 a.m. She was 6lbs, 10oz and 20inches long.

I'll post more when I get home from the hospital, but...OH MY GOD!

Holding Pattern

2011-09-12T08:51:00.004-05:00

Holy crap... 9 more days till my due date. Nine. That sounds so close, yet so damn far away, too. I mean, it seems far away when I'm cracking and creaking down the hallway and still trying to digest my meal four hours after I've eaten. It's true when they say this last month is uncomfortable as hell. But, yeah... nine days.

My doc said she won't let me go more than ten days over my due date without inducing. I'm hoping it won't come to that. I have major fear of induction. Read too many horror stories. Honestly, I still possess these ridiculous dreams that I'll end up going into labor in a couple days, and magical fairies will somehow make it fast and manageable and I'll be holding my healthy baby, smiling in some sparkly earth-goddess way three hours later. She will latch on right away, and it won't even hurt. My husband will say all the right things, take all the right pictures (in which I'll look put-together and not at all sweaty and miserable) and we'll just be tranquil and perfectly happy.

I mean, that could happen, right?

Yeah, okay... I DID say "ridiculous dreams."

Anyhow, we've really done as much as I can think to do at home. We've nested till our beaks fell off and everything's ready for her to make an appearance. Hell, you guys, I even spent a couple days in the kitchen and managed to make and freeze chili, lasagnas, chicken casseroles, enchiladas, and tons of burritos, so that we don't have to cook for a while after this shit goes down.

I'm ready.

Now I'm just waiting for Wink to get the message.

38 Weeks

2011-09-06T12:11:00.002-05:00

Well, that's cheating a bit. I'm 38 weeks tomorrow. I had my OB appointment this morning, though and, despite all of that bed rest and pre-term labor hubbub, I'm fairly certain this kid is NOT coming out anytime soon. I'm still not dilating at all. I'm the same effacement (50%) that I've been since week 30. It's not that I'm dying for her to come out RIGHT THIS MINUTE (though walking has become pretty damn difficult, what with her head smushing against my pelvis), but it just makes me feel like the shitloads of distress I felt throughout my bed rest was all for naught. Who knows? Maybe she wouldn't have come out back then, whether I had ran a marathon or stayed cooped up in my bed, like I did. I guess that's the point, though. You never know...

I'm nervous. I'm excited. I'm all of those things you'd expect me to be right now.

Our big Friend Holiday of the year is Oktoberfest at this little German restaurant in town, and that's happening this weekend. Despite the fact that this has been a HUGE deal for us for the past seven years, I couldn't be less enthused. I mean, the no-drinking-thing is a major reason for this, sure. But, moreso, I guess nothing can compare to the excitement of Wink.

I plan on stopping by Friday, after work, for some dinner and a huge helping of dessert. Then, I'll be leaving the rest of the celebration for C to take care of. It's his duty to party for two this year.

36 Weeks

2011-08-29T14:22:00.004-05:00

Man, I really haven't updated in a while...

There's not a lot to catch anyone up on, though. I'm 36 weeks, 5 days pregnant right now. How crazy is that? I mean, this has been a rough-ass pregnancy and all, and there were definite times (um... bed rest, anyone?) that made me feel like it was never going to end. Looking back on everything, though, it seems to have gone so quickly. My actual due date is less than a month away, on September 21. Who knows when she'll actually decide to make an appearance, though.

I've been having contractions like crazy this past week. Nothing painful. It's just a LOT of tightening and it gets pretty uncomfortable sometimes. Not a big deal compared to the myriad of other things that I've felt so far during this whole thing.

This past weekend, C and I used a coupon I had for a free night's stay at a local hotel. It was set to expire in a couple of months and I knew there was no way we'd be able to use it once Wink shows up. It was a really nice way to spend the weekend--swimming, cuddling to movies, eating free breakfast (damn, I love eating) and, basically, just enjoying each other's company.

We also managed to get some good ol' nesting in this weekend by cleaning out our hall closets and packing our hospital bag. I had a hard time with that, considering I don't have a lot of doubles of things and I'm too cheap to actually go pay for them. So, I'll be half-living out of that bag for a little while. It'll work.

I have a doctor's appointment this afternoon and I'm sure she'll just check my cervix, measure my stomach, and I'll be on my way. These appointments are getting pretty "real," though. The first time they actually checked me last week, I was thinking, "Holy shit. We're HERE already? We're to this point?"

Very surreal. Very awesome. I couldn't be more grateful for where we are right now.

Back to the Real World

2011-08-16T07:38:00.002-05:00

Well, the baby shower went well. I have to admit, I was more than a little jealous of my husband and friends all mingling about the various rooms of the house, retiring downstairs for shots, stepping out on the deck for air, and the like. It was about 85 degrees in my friend's house, and I was stuck, sweating on a couch in the living room, surrounded by my parents' older friends and C's grandmother. Still, I got out of MY house, had a lot of good food to eat, and we received some nice gifts. So, really, I can't complain.

Also? Despite all of my worry and superstition, Wink is still alive and well, and moving around like a crazy person.

Yesterday, C and I went to the OB. We got in for an ultrasound on my cervix right away and learned that, for the fourth week in a row, nothing had changed. She's still holding on at a length of 2cm. We then waited for another hour and twenty minutes in the waiting room to see our doctor. It was during this time that we told each other that if we ever decide to (and are lucky as shit enough) get pregnant again, we are definitely not using the same doctor. It's nothing against her. She's pleasant. She's easy to talk to. She seems to know her stuff, and I feel comfortable with her care. But, seriously, we've never gotten out of her office in less than two hours. Ever. 95% of this time is spent waiting. It's just not worth it.

Anyway, the nurses finally gave up on her and let us see her RN instead. She came in the room, measured my belly over my dress, and said, "Well, I have good news! You're off bed rest. Go about your business."

Yep. Just like that.

I asked about going back to work and she said it was fine. I'll stay on my medication through next week and then stop that, too. By then, I'll be 36 weeks along, and they're pretty comfortable with whatever my body decides to do after that.

So, here I am, on my last day home from office. I'm going to finish up some work from home, do some chores around the house, go out for a snack with a friend, and get ready to hop back into the full-time working world tomorrow. Very weird.

I feel like a kid getting ready for their first day back at school--nervous, excited, scared...and not quite ready to give up the comfort of home.

Nervousness

2011-08-05T11:26:00.004-05:00

I think I've managed to keep a fairly positive outlook on the outcome of this pregnancy so far. Even through all the IV's, drugs, hospital stays, and bed rest, I've always been pretty certain we'd be bringing home a healthy, live baby at the end of this. But now? Well, I'm scared as hell for some reason.

My friend is throwing our co-ed BBQ baby shower for me and C tomorrow and, in a weird way, I think this is what's bringing on all the doubt. It just seems to be tempting fate or something. I'm 33 weeks along. Every test I've had lately has been relatively positive (my cervical length went from 1.8 to 2.15 cm last week and my fFN test was again negative). I'm on bed rest but was cleared by the doc to go to the party tomorrow, as long as I sit and let people come to me.

Despite all of this, I'm worried. My best friends and close family members are all getting together to celebrate this life. They are all counting on this happening. They are all positive that things will be okay. Why does all of their certainty make me so nervous?

Here's hoping this feeling is short-lived and tomorrow can just be a day filled with fun and happiness for Wink!

The Leave Problem

2011-07-26T14:29:00.003-05:00

So, FMLA is a huge pain in my ass right now. Due to this whole bed rest thing, I'll be using up at least five weeks of my 12 government-mandated leave weeks for the year. That basically means that, if all goes well and I'm able to return to work after these five weeks, until I go into labor, I would be left with a maximum of seven weeks of maternity leave. Non-paid, of course.

I'd been saving up my vacation/sick time as much as possible during the last few years, while we'd been planning for and then trying desperately to have a baby. I was so happy that I'd saved enough to be able to take ten weeks off after Wink's born and still have another week and a half in the bank for emergencies and, you know...mental health days.

Well, obviously that's not going to happen. And I feel so cheated.

Now, only about six and a half weeks of my maternity leave will be paid (which is going to be very rough on our tight budget) and the maximum amount of time I'll be able to take will basically be seven weeks + any time I am able to work from home from now until I'm taken off bed rest. I am allowed by my doctor to work up to four hours a day now, so I'm hoping to add another week onto that seven and make it up to eight.

I know that I've been feeling sorry for myself too much lately, but I needed to get this out, I guess. I needed to tell some people who might actually understand how heavy this really makes my heart. Because, after all of the time I spent trying to have Wink in the first place, and after all of the ups and downs of this pregnancy, I've always had that paid ten weeks with my little girl to look forward to. It was a light at the end of a long tunnel.

Still, Wink is doing great and my cervix went from 18mm at my previous ultrasound to 20mm yesterday! Also, my fFn test was, again, negative. So, these are some great things to be thankful for.

Bed rest is rough as hell. Money woes are trying. But Wink is kicking away inside my belly right now, and THAT is all that really matters.

Books

2011-07-20T15:18:00.002-05:00

So, due to this bed rest situation, C and I will be missing out on our childbirth/new parent/breastfeeding classes. I'm more of a hands-on learner than a reader, but I guess I don't have a lot of choice in the matter. So, my question to you is: Is there any GREAT breastfeeding or new baby book that you'd recommend? I am not one to breeze through huge instructional tomes. Honestly, the last book I read cover-to-cover was Tina Fey's Bossypants, and that's not really the most challenging literature.

Anyway, any advice you could give would be appreciated!

Another Twist

2011-07-19T12:21:00.004-05:00

It all started last Tuesday. Horrible pains would creep around my back, to the front of my abdomen. They're the same pains I'd been having months earlier, only these were fiercer. I went to the doctor on Wednesday and they gave me some Tylenol with Codeine and told me to lay on my left side. On Wednesday night, I woke up with such terrible cramps that my whole body vibrated in pain. C took me to the hospital, where I was hooked up to monitors and we saw that I was having sporadic contractions. It was nothing that concerned the doctors. I knew the pain I was feeling wasn't exactly in line with Braxton-Hicks contractions. I mean, seriously, I couldn't talk and could barely breathe through them. I saw the doctor again the next day, and they started me on some medication to help slow contractions. It didn't help stop the pains, so I went back to the doctor on Friday. I was at my whit's end. I'd had three straight nights of incredible pain and no one seemed to give a shit about it besides me and my husband. I broke down to the RN who was seeing me that morning and just started crying. I told her how frustrated I was and that I couldn't live another day like this. She took pity on me and had me taken in to get an ultrasound of my cervix. The ultrasound tech didn't say anything to me as I laid on the table, but the nurse saw me immediately afterwards. She said I should go straight from their office to the hospital to be checked in. My cervix had begun funneling.

So, on Friday morning, I checked into the hospital and I was put on monitors for the next two and a half days. My drugs for slowing contractions were upped and I was administered two steroid injections to help mature Wink's lungs in case she came early. It was scary and uncomfortable and basically just shitty.

On Sunday they let me out of the hospital with strict instructions to stay on bed rest for at least the next five weeks. At that point, the doctor says she would be comfortable with me moving around and even going back to work, if I haven't yet given birth.

I have appointments every week now, and they'll be checking my cervix again next Monday. So, until then, I have my bed and, if my husband is feeling like less of a prison warden that day, the couch as my daily scenery. I realize this is just the beginning of this bed rest journey, and I know that some of you have done it a lot longer. Honestly, I don't know how I'll manage. I'm a fairly active person and the thought of spending every day and night in this bed is traumatizing.

It's for the greater good, obviously, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep this little girl inside of me safe. However, it's just another struggle to add to this rocky pregnancy. It seems like they're never-ending.

I think about all the things I want to do before she comes--the classes we were going to take, the get-aways that won't be, the meals I wanted to prepare, the stuff I wanted to buy...everything. I feel so cheated out of it all.

Bitterness isn't healthy, though, and I have SO much to be grateful for right now. I realize this. She's still snug and safe inside of me. She's growing as she should. She EXISTS. That, in itself, is amazing.

So, just stay in there, sweet girl. You don't want to get to the party too early.

Floating

2011-07-07T08:17:00.004-05:00

For the past four years, C and I have brought a group of our friends to my parents' house on the lake for the fourth of July. This year was no exception, despite the barrage of last-minute "Are you guys sure you're still having us over?" questions. Yes, people, just because I'm knocked up, it doesn't mean that I"m going to just roll over on the couch and ignore one of our favorite weekends of the year.

So, we all spent the long weekend cooking brisket, roaming around my small hometown, and floating on the lake. It was a good 95 degrees or so, and I'm as pale as Conan O'Brien's lovechild with Dita Von Teese, so I took extra precautions to make sure I remained burn-free. I snuggled into my inner-tube, donned a huge hat that covered almost the entire top half of my body, and slathered on the SPF. I'm happy to report I came through without a spot of red. My comrades, on the other hand, were not so lucky. We had some hurting souls after all was said and done. Still, I think they'd all say it was worth it. That was one of the most relaxing, perfect days I've had in a long time.

I wanted to post a couple of pictures and then realized that I only took video that weekend and don't actually have any stills from the holiday. I also want to show you the progress on the nursery, but my camera is a piece of shit and I literally took 20 unusable pictures the other day. I wish I could afford something better before the kid shows up, but I doubt that's going to happen. We'll have to make do with my dark, blurry point-and-shoot for a while longer, because I'm thinking she'd rather have a car seat that works than some pretty pictures of her when she was born. Oh well.

As for the unsolicited advice I keep getting from strangers? Yeah, that's ongoing. Yesterday, it was an old man as I was coming in the front doors of the hospital. He yelled at me, "Are you eating right?! You'd better be eating right."

Why is it always men? At least that's been my experience... men seem to have no problem telling me what to do while I'm pregnant. I've always heard about the "mommy wars" or whatever and the guilt I'd feel from other ladies, but I'm not getting that at all. I'm just seeing a lot of older guys who must believe we live in a patriarchy, and are all too comfortable telling female strangers how to take care of themselves and their unborn child properly. Must be nice to have all the answers...

Third Trimester

2011-06-29T12:38:00.004-05:00

Well, well, well... we finally meet. I've been wondering if I would ever see the third trimester. The first two (not to mention waiting to get knocked up in the first place) seemed to take an eternity. The thought that we're finally here? It's weird.

Today is the start of week 28, and it was also the day of my glucose tolerance test. I was actually given the liquid at my last doctor's appointment and it had been sitting in my fridge, taunting me, for the last thirty days. But today, at 9:50 a.m., I finally got to swill that sucker. It really wasn't bad. I mean, you hear the horror stories, so I guess I'd prepared my taste buds for the worst, and found it to be nothing more than some overly sweetened Kool-Aid. The only bad part was the gut rot that came afterwards. Yeah, chugging a bunch of sugar water is NOT good for my already overly sensitive stomach... but I lived.

As soon as I got to the doctor's they took my blood and then C and I waited, and waited, and waited, until the doctor finally got around to seeing us about an hour later. She quickly told me I was not diabetic, nor anemic, my weight was "great" and I'm measuring at exactly 28 weeks. So, that's all solid.

Afterward, I was dying to get some food in my belly and so C and I met down the street at this local grocery store/deli and ate some sandwiches out in the sunshine. It's beautiful outside today, and that lunch definitely made me pine for a VACATION.

Work has been less than stellar lately. I won't get into the nitty gritty, but let's just say that I've been frustrated and depressed almost every day. Then, at night, when I get home, it takes everything in me not to linger on the fact that I have to do it all again the next day and get thoroughly saddened. It's not the job itself that's killing me. It's the people. Let me say that, besides the fact that I'll have my much-anticipated child at the end of all of this (I'm remaining positive on this point), I am nearly just as excited to get the fuck out of here for a couple of months...

Anyhow, in other baby news, a close girl friend of mine, who happens to be infertile, and who has tried IVF, had it fail, and is now resigned to a life without children, has offered to throw me my baby shower. I know...

She stood up for me at my Vegas wedding nearly four years ago. I stood up for her during hers a year later. We threw each other our showers then, and I guess it's fitting that she throws me this one now. I would never have expected her to do so, of course, but I'm also not going to turn her down. I know and understand that she can't be entirely happy for me. I try to keep my baby talk to a bare minimum around her, as I'd expect her to do for me in the same situation. Because, even though you love that friend and want them to be happy, there's only so much of that shit you can take. I completely get that.

Anyhow, it's going to be a co-ed barbecue, which should limit the adorableness of it all. You guys probably know me enough by now to know that I'm totally cool with that. The fewer poop games and squealing ladies, the better. So, that's going to happen the first weekend of August. I'm pretty excited, and now I'm trying to think of a great (but inexpensive, seeing as I'm poor as crap right now) hostess present for her. I'm thinking a bottle of wine and a gift card for a meal out? What do you guys think? Any ideas?

The Inappropriate

2011-06-17T11:50:00.003-05:00

Well, it's finally started-- we've come to the Inappropriate Comment Stage of this pregnancy! I've been waiting and waiting with bated breath and it's finally here.

It all started last week while I was taking a break from work to take a brisk walk through the hospital hallways. So, I'm there, minding my own business, trucking along, when some old guy stops in my path, looks at me and says, "You really need to diet and exercise now, dear. It's important." Um... okay, guy. Thanks for the advice to exercise while I am exercising. Much appreciated. As for the diet thing? Seriously? I'm just gonna let that one go.

Throughout the rest of the week, there were several "my, you're getting bigger" comments from total strangers, who only happen to see me in the hallways every day. You know--those people you nod to because they look familiar, but with whom you've never actually held a conversation? Yeah, them.

Yesterday, though, was the kicker. I was heading down an escalator at work, just as I have everyday for the past five and a half years, when I hear a man's voice YELL from across the lobby, "Miss! Miss! Hold onto the railing!" I ignored the voice and kept riding the escalator down, when he screamed again, "MISS! The railing!" I got to the bottom and started leaving the hospital when he decided that I hadn't been thoroughly chastised and yelled, in front of a crowd of passerbys, "You really need to hold onto the railing. Be careful with that baby!" I finally looked at him to acknowledge I'd heard what he said and left the building.

Then I seethed the entire way home.

Because, seriously, what right does this complete stranger have to YELL at me about not holding onto an escalator railing? Hell, if someone yelled at a stranger's kid that way, I'd have a problem with it, much less a grown adult.

Anyway, I've had about enough of that crap... though I know it will only get worse before it gets better.

Okay, so for one more inappropriate thing that has absolutely nothing to do with babies:

My ex-boyfriend from TEN years ago emailed me today. With a dummy email address. Out of the blue. To my work email.

WHAT?

He didn't say anything inappropriate, really. He "just wanted to catch up."

I almost didn't open the email since it came from "John Doe" and I thought it might be spam, but I'm a bit more... flexible about that shit on my work computer (yeah, I know).

Anyway, I have no idea what made him decide to contact me in such an under-the-radar manner. I've read it twice so far and just keep shaking my head and saying, "what the fuck" over and over in my brain. Why the mystery, man?

So, yeah... people. People are weird. That is basically the gist of this post.

Exploitation

2011-06-13T09:51:00.003-05:00

This weekend, C and I drove down to Kansas City for the wedding of my sister-in-law's brother and his fiancée. These two have been attending our family functions together for years. They both attended my own wedding, over three years ago in Vegas. We took one of those cheesy souvenir photos with my parents, my brother & sister-in-law, and these two the day before our wedding, while we were all out for a family dinner. At the time, they had been dating for less than a year and it was one of those things where you hoped they stayed together so you didn't have some awkward photo with an ex-girlfriend on your wall a year later. Well, luckily for our hallway wall, (oh and their own happiness and futures and blah blah blah) they DID stay together we were able to celebrate with them on Saturday.

At the reception, the bubbly was flowing, and I was jealous of all the imbibers, while sipping water in my Motherhood Maternity finest. The cake cutting couldn't come fast enough. When it finally got to that part of the evening, I waited patiently in line, eying all of the tiny slivers of cake on little plates and secretly damning the two guys doing the cutting. So, I stepped up to them and said, "Listen, I'm pregnant. I can't drink, everyone here is wasted, and this cake is going to be the best part of my night. I need a big piece." One of the guys chuckled, and then slid an ENTIRE 6" hunk of unsliced cake onto a plate and handed it over. I laughed at its absurdity, but quickly gathered a handful of forks and hightailed it out of there before they could take it back. Yeah, I shared with my mom and my nieces but, believe me, I ate more than my fair share of that hunk of Red Velvet Heaven.

Pregnancy really does have its perks, you guys. You just have to learn to exploit it.

Second Trimester Honeymoon? Finally?

2011-06-06T13:17:00.004-05:00

I saw my OB out in the real world. Well, it was in the hallway of the hospital where I work (not a hospital she ever practices in) and she was in normal, civilian clothes. It felt weird. Like when you see your teacher at the grocery store when you're a kid.

Anyway, this weekend, C put the changing table and crib together. The only reason we have them so soon (well, soon to the IF community...probably dreadfully late to weird fertiles) is because they were on sale for a limited time.

They look fantastic and, now that they're in Wink's room, I have this overwhelming desire to get everything else done in there. I know I'm in no hurry. I'm only 24 weeks along. But, once I start a project, I'm the type of person who wants it done. Like now.

Also, I think that nesting has officially kicked in, because I see projects literally everywhere I turn at home. I was seriously obsessing about our freezer last night. "Oh no! we can barely fit these peas in here! How am I supposed to fit bags and bags of breast milk and all of those casseroles I'm supposed to cook for us to eat right after the baby's born?! What will we do?! Must organize!"

Crazy shit, guys. I feel really lucky and happy right now. Life is good. I think the summer sun and the ticking off of tasks on the ol' to-do list is really putting a spring in my step.

All Good Stuff

2011-06-01T10:47:00.003-05:00

I know I'm a little slow on the draw, here, but Memorial Day weekend was really great. It wasn't relaxing by any means, but we got a TON of shit done, and that always puts me in a good head space.

We spent Friday night dressed up and out on the town with our friends. A few weeks ago, about ten of us made reservations at this dark, cozy, little restaurant for a get-together. Well, when we all got there, they showed us upstairs to our own, private lounge area. It was basically like a bed and breakfast without the beds. We had the entire top floor of this converted house to ourselves--the lounge, dining room, and bathroom were all for us. We spent a couple of hours drinking cocktails (well, I had seltzer and lime...ugh) and eating h'ordeuvres, and then moved into the dining room for dinner. One of my guy friends brought each of the ladies a rose. Aww...

It was kinda like prom but without the crepe paper decorations and dancing.

My parents came to town on Saturday and, while my dad was busy helping C with outdoor projects, my mom and I went shopping for supplies to fix up the nursery. First, we went to the craft store to find frames for these awesome "vintage" space travel posters I bought. We ended up getting great dark wood frames and the perfect color of matting to tie them together.

Next, we found fabric and tie backs for the curtains and a little shelving unit that will slide into Wink's closet. It came complete with baskets with pink fabric, but we found some darker fabric with tiny stars to replace it with. I'm no sewer and neither is my mom but, luckily, there are far craftier people in this world than us, so they're on top of putting this stuff together.

After that, we picked up paint and lumber to finish off the closet shelves.

Once we had done all of this, the day was pretty much spent and we retired to one of my friend's houses for a little barbecue. Nice day!

On Sunday morning, we got to work putting the closet together and painting the entire room a light grey color. We're going kind of neutral because we're using the posters and fabrics to bring in color. Easily changeable! My mom really worked her butt off, because MY butt was pretty damn lazy. I mean, I definitely did what I could, but she took on the brunt of the work and I'm totally grateful for that. She's already Wink's favorite grandma (I'm declaring this on her behalf).

Anyhow, we had an OBGYN appointment on Tuesday and all looked great with Wink. My belly's measuring correctly, and her heartbeat was good and strong. Not much to say about that. The appointments are becoming a little bit routine/boring lately, which is GREAT. The next time we go (June 29th) is my dreaded glucose challenge screening. I thought it was weird that she gave me the bottle of red drink already. It's sitting in my fridge now, waiting for me to chug it in four weeks. Don't most people drink that crap AT the doctor's office? Well, whatever... less time spent in the waiting room, I suppose!

The Office Exception

2011-05-27T11:30:00.004-05:00

Okay, so one of my co-workers is a grandpa and he's had FIVE grandbabies within the last two years. We've always had a pretty good relationship, despite his extreme old-man grumpiness, because we had to share an office for a couple of years and were forced into a kind of easy rapport.

Well, it turns out that he was thinking of me over the weekend, because he got his son and daughter-in-law to go through all of their old baby clothes and sack up two HUGE shopping bags worth of stuff for us. He brought them to me at work yesterday and managed to completely lift my "people are shit" funk for a good 6-8 hours!

I went through them as soon as I got home yesterday. I didn't end up counting things, but I'm pretty sure we ended up with at least 30 onesies, 10 pants/shirt combos, 30 footed pajamas, four sleep sacks, and a few random jackets, mittens, etc. Score!

I seriously spent an hour and a half on the floor of our living room, spreading them all out and sorting them into piles by sizes, cooing over the cuteness. When C got home, he was all, "Umm... wow! That's a lot of baby clothes. Cute." Then he went on with his normal routine without so much as picking up a onesie. How?! How do men do this? I mean, I think you guys all know that "girly" is not an adjective one would use to describe me, but seriously? How can you look at an entire room full of free, adorable baby clothing and NOT want to squee and sort through the cuteness? I guess there's more girl in me than I thought.

Anyhow, since a few of you had been asking, I've decided to put up a belly picture. Yep. I'm breaking that barrier. I'm covering my face, not because of anonymity concerns, but because I had taken off all my makeup and looked tired and haggard as shit. I don't need to go scaring the internet.

Here I am at 23 weeks:

Grey Skies Have Gotta Clear Up

2011-05-25T12:14:00.005-05:00

I've come to the conclusion today that people are dicks.

Well, there are exceptions, obviously--you guys being some major ones. Seriously, though, I would have never been able to predict the sheer level of dickitude that I would come across while pregnant.

I've already told you about several people at work telling me how stupid I was to get pregnant--what every pregnant lady wants to hear...especially after a fun bout of infertility!

Since then, I've been inundated with negativity everywhere I turn. Today, for instance, one of the docs I work with told me, "You're getting pudgy." Then he went on to ask the sex of the baby. When I told him I was having a girl, he said, "Ughhhh... a GIRL?! Why a girl? There are too many frickin' girls being born right now." Ummm... sorry, dude. He went on to say, "Well, I know YOU'RE happy about it, because you're a woman. How does your husband feel, though?"

Seriously? Every man wants a son and every woman wants a daughter? This is how the world works?

He is now the fourth person to show disdain for the sex of my daughter, and the fifth person this week to tell me I'm gaining weight.

Honestly, my sensitive pregnant brain wanted to do nothing more than leave work, go home, and sulk after that happened. I just don't want to be around it anymore. I'm having such a hard time finding acceptance, support, and happiness from people. It seems that all anyone around me wants to do is commiserate about the bad and no one wants to dwell on the good.

Maybe part of this is my own doing. I don't know. I haven't been very forthcoming about ANY of my pregnancy. I mean, I don't post about it online (this blog being the glaring exception), I don't talk about it to my friends. This is due to the fact that the majority of them are guys who I assume don't want to hear about it. My close girl friend is, herself, infertile and I am trying to be very sensitive to the fact that she probably doesn't want to hear a lot of detail about this pregnancy. I'm just not one to go on and on about myself. I'm a private person in real life and, mostly, I figure people don't want to know if they don't ask.

But this mentality has also led me to feel really isolated. I don't want to be gushed over. I just want some sort of acknowledgement that isn't negative every once in a while.

So, that's where I am right now, emotionally--kind of down, but also desperately looking to be UP.

This weekend, my parents are coming into town. My dad's going to help my husband with some outdoor stuff, and my mom and I are going to PAINT THE NURSERY! We're also going to build some kind of organizer into its tiny closet and hopefully get everything ready to start housing baby furniture. Weird, right? Weird and awesome. I'm really looking forward to this. Positivity and progress!

The Belly Cometh

2011-05-20T15:12:00.003-05:00

Holy crap, dudes... I totally popped.

I mean, I hate that term. But I did. There's no other way to describe that shit.

I went from having a little bump which only my most faithful observers have noticed to, in a matter of days, catching the eye of every person in the hallway.

I glanced at my reflection as I was walking past a window at work just now and thought, "Whoa, who's that pregnant lady?!"

So weird.

I also ate a small sandwich for lunch about three hours ago and still feel it sitting in my gut. Things are changing, people...

Hangin' In There

2011-05-16T08:23:00.004-05:00

So, it's been a while since I posted. Basically, it's because I've felt like crap and there's only so many times I can write about all of the crap before even I want to shoot myself in the face.

Apart from the constant, never-ending nausea, I'm still experiencing those sharp pains in my side/back. They've been going on for about a month now and haven't stopped. I mean, they're not constant. They happen about once a week and, when the pain comes on, it's completely debilitating. I'm talkin' writhing on the floor in a ball, breathing lamaze-style, wanting to just pass out kind of pain. It lasts for 1-2 hours at a time, and it's horrible. The worst part is how much it makes me fear for my baby.

No one can seem to give me any explanation for the pain. Any time I call about it (three times now), I'm made to tell my complete history over again to someone who obviously thinks I'm an overreacting sissy and takes nothing I say seriously.

The Pain came on again on Saturday morning. I took my Tylenol, laid down, and breathed and sweat through that shit for a good hour and a half before I just couldn't take it anymore. I called my doctor's office and had the on-call doctor paged. Wouldn't you know it, when she called me back, it was MY doctor! Yay, right? Well, not so much... her first sentences to me were, "Okay, well, I'd like you to take some Tylenol and just lay down and see if it gets better after an hour. Remind me, are you pregnant?"

AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

Yes, at that point, I wanted to literally throw the phone across the room and start sobbing. My husband could see how much pain I was in and seemed to be the only person in the world to believe that shit.

When I explained to her that I'd done that already and nothing was subsiding, she told me to go check into Labor and Delivery and she'd have them run some tests. So, we made the trip, checked in, and wouldn't you know it, that's exactly when I started feeling better. It was like taking your car to the shop because it keeps making that NOISE and then, as soon as the mechanic turns the key, the noise is gone and you look like a dumbass. Yeah, well, they checked me into a room, took my urine, and then we preceded to wait for two and a half hours while the on-call resident finished a circumcision and then a c-section. She came in, asked some questions, determined that there's nothing she could do for me at that point, since the pain had subsided, and let us go. I asked her if she thinks this pain could be harming the baby in any way, and she said she really didn't think it was related to my pregnancy at all. So, I questioned why it's only happened while I've been pregnant and then stated, "Well, even if it's not hurting the baby, it's still hurting the hell out of me, so I'd love to know what the heck it is."

She just agreed that it would be nice to know and then suggested I follow up with a phone call to my OB on Monday.

Yep.

So, here it is... Monday morning. The office opens in twenty minutes, at which point I'll call, explain all of this over again to a scheduler, explain it again to a nurse, explain it again to my doctor (after I remind her that, yes, I am pregnant) and then probably be told AGAIN, "I'm sorry. I just don't see anything wrong with your labs. You could take some Tylenol and just try to breathe through it....."

Anyway, to end this post on a bright note, because my mother always taught me to look on the sunny side of things and smile through life's crap, I will tell you that yesterday, while hunkering down with me during my doctor-mandated day of rest, C finally felt Wink kick him! I'd been putting his hand on my stomach every time I felt her getting especially active, but he'd never felt a thing until yesterday. He felt her at least three times and I could tell how much those kicks meant to him... they meant a lot to me too.