Monday, April 29, 2013

The End...Or Not

I think part of what has me feeling ready to be done being pregnant is that last time, I was nearly done at this point.  I only had 9 days more!  So I feel there.

Which is also where the freak out about not being ready is.  9 days simply isn't enough!

It's a weird place to be in.

My friend Heather voiced concerns about my weaning off meds.  I started it simply because I wasn't sure when I would be able to get a doctor to prescribe more - and on its own it is a $700/month medication.  And cold turkey is BAD.  I'm not worried about being on it while breastfeeding - I looked into that months ago.  I had an ICLBC friend look it up for me.  It's actually considered safer breastfeeding than in pregnancy it looks like, so I let that worry go.

I really am trying to balance everything here.  I am.

Who knows when Finn will arrive, how he will arrive.  I need to stop focusing on that and start making sure I'm ready.  You know, in the next 9 days.  Just in case.

Saturday, April 27, 2013

Not Ready

I am a crazy hormonal mess.  I am weaning off meds.  So far a week of half my normal dose.  It's not helping with the hormonal crazy.  I'm not sure sometimes if it's the meds or the hormones.  I have no energy.  We are  unpacking like mad people and I hit a wall.  I can't stand to do anymore.  Today one of the dogs pooped and peed on the living room floor, P's diaper leaked all over the bed and a couple throw pillows and then the toilet overflowed.  Luckily we had a plunger.  Not helping the crazy.

The crib is not side-car'd yet.  The cradle is not ready.  Nothing is washed.  I AM making progress on weeding through the baby clothes and I should have benefits next week.

I am NOT READY.  I feel a hot mess.  And I'm NOT READY to have another baby to handle.  All I keep thinking is that P was here a little more than a week more into pregnancy than where I am now.  10 days.  No, just no.

I know he'll come when he is ready, but I'M NOT READY.

I am actually terrified.  Terrified I won't figure out how to handle my demanding toddler and a newborn.  Terrified I'll go off the deep end again when the postpartum hormones hit.  Terrified I won't produce enough milk again and feel terrible about that body fail again.  Terrified I will make milk but P will flip at the lack of attention.  Terrified that P will flip about the lack of attention anyway.

I'm ready to be done being pregnant.  I'm not used to being active this far into pregnancy.  I'm woefully out of shape.  It makes me exhausted.  And since Finn is stubbornly breech, I'm rather uncomfortable.  So that part - I'm ready to be done.  But I'm just not ready for what comes after.

I know a lot of this is normal fears.  But with my all too recent history...ugh.

Tell me I can do this.  Moms do it all the time.  I'm so scared...

Friday, April 26, 2013

A Plea To My Unborn Child

Dear Finn,

I know that realistically you don't need to be head down for a couple more weeks yet, but I beg of you...please turn around.

Your head in my ribs did damage, which thankfully has abated a bit recently.  However, it's still incredibly uncomfortable.  And your knees are seemingly bent (ha ha, get it? bent?) on injuring my stomach.  It's already pretty smooshed.  When you knee me there, well, it makes me very unhappy.  Seriously.

I am trying the inversion technique, and will be upping that in regularity.  I'm desperate, you see.

You came to us as a surprise.  No treatments.  Just an OMG WE'RE PREGNANT HOW THE HELL DID THAT HAPPEN WE FEEL LIKE NORMAL PEOPLE thing.  I would like you to come out naturally, too. I really do.  No c-section.  Mama no likey.  Mama has your older brother to chase around, too, and that would really make things difficult.

So really, could you turn around?  Please?  Plant that hard-ass head of yours in my pelvis where it belongs?  I would be so appreciative.  So would all those who put up with me on a daily basis.  I'm very cranky.  I don't want to be cranky.  So PLEASE...



Thursday, April 25, 2013

Join The Movement: Putting It Out There

For so many, the journey through Infertility is a long, painful, SILENT one.  Infertility is often a "silent disease" for a number of reasons.  You can't SEE it.  People don't like to talk about it because it involves highly personal issues and decisions, and those things also make others uncomfortable.  Which just perpetuates the silence.

I was never quiet about it.  But we all know I have TMI issues.  But what I learned by being open about it was that it made others comfortable enough to talk about their struggles.  I became a "go-to" person.
 Which made me feel great!  We could help each other out!

No one should have to be alone in their struggles.  I'm not saying go out and advocate publicly.  It's a personal decision.  But even in a small capacity - a private blog, a private Twitter account (love me some Twitter!!!) - you can find support and BE support.  

You are not alone.  I promise.  You aren't.

Put it out there.

The Basics of Infertility
National Infertility Awareness Week 2013

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

This Week Brought To You By The Letter V

****Major TMI warning****

You were warned.

Still here?

Okay.  Your choice.

2 weeks ago I was helping Hubby load stuff to take to the storage unit for transport to our new home.  At one point I started getting shooting pains in my crotch.  And when not shooting pains, severe aches.  Like when you have a lot of sex and you feel like your crotch is bruised.  But there was no sex.

I talked to my sister who was also pregnant at the time (not now!!  Niece 2.0 arrived Thursday!!!)  She mentioned varicose veins.  WHAT???  What indignity is this??

It turns out that Vulvar Varicose Veins happen to about 10% (reported) of pregnant women, especially in 2nd and subsequent pregnancies.  I probably triggered them lifting.  I think the percentage must be higher, but who wants to talk about "lightning crotch" to their doctor???

Let me repeat that.


With unpacking and moving around this week it has become horrid.  I am swollen and sore and when I have to pee the pressure is awful.  I spend time every day now with an ice pack in between my legs.  Blargh.

To make things MORE fun, because I wasn't miserable enough, today I seem to have developed what we women all love: a zit in my labia.  It's between the folds.  I, of course, can't see it.  But I can feel it.  And it feels like a mosquito biting my lady bits.  A lot.  And with the swelling from the previous issue...sigh.  I just want to lie in bed and weep.

So I am faced with a particularly odd dilemma.  Warm wet compress for the zit...which will make the swelling worse, or just the ice and hope the zit sorts itself out.  Soon.  For the love of Pete, soon!!!

I mean, really?  Varicose veins and a zit?  At the same time?  Either one is horrid.  Together?  I'm wondering who I pissed off karmically.

33 weeks pregnant and counting.  I have benefits next week.  But no money for a midwife so hoping I can track down, quickly, an OB covered by Medicaid who will agree to a VBAC.  That, or I wait until I go into labor and go in at the last possible moment.  So I can push a baby out my very swollen, painful vagina.

I wanted this, right?  Right.

Right now I'm ready to be done.  Just sayin'.

Thursday, April 18, 2013

SNAFU - Color Me Surprised

So, the moving guys show up today to pick up all our crap.  A lot of crap.  But crap we have tried to let the sales guy know about and whose response was usually "okay okay".  First thing is they hand Hubby an envelope and say "how much do you want to do for gratuity?"  Ummm....what?  This is your job douchebag.  Big guys.  Guys who tell him the standard is 10% of the total move...which they have now told him will be TWICE AS MUCH.  So they want extra up front.  And these are BIG GUYS.  So Hubby gives them the money. 

And the damn sales guy was no help.  Told him to give them the money and he'd sort it out after the load came in to figure out costs.  WHAT???

He spoke with the owner.  Who was sort of helpful. 

What does all this mean?  We will most likely have no backup money for rent until Hubby gets work.  He needs to find a job IMMEDIATELY.  You know, no pressure.  Just the exact issue we were trying to avoid.  

And it means me giving up the idea of hiring a midwife for a homebirth (which I haven't even had a chance to write about). 

I learned today that not only does exhaustion bring on contractions.  So does me having a total meltdown. 

Seriously....every time we try to plan stuff out...


Tuesday, April 16, 2013


It's been a while - packing and preparing to move us 1500 miles has taken up all my time.  That being said, today P and I flew to our new home in TX. 


I am 32 weeks pregnant today.  8 months.  P doesn't do restraint.  He weighs 30+ pounds.  I had a carseat, carry-on, diaper bag, purse, and him.  Did I mention I am 32 weeks pregnant?

Hubby got us in to the check-in counter and then to Security.  Which sounds lovely, and it was.  Except that it took the noobs at the counter half an hour at least to check us in.  We're talking trainee, trainer, and manager.  HALF AN HOUR.  Meanwhile, P is running around like a crazy child alternately happy and screaming bloody murder and Hubby is chasing him and trying to entertain him. 

I flew SPIRIT airlines.  And yes, I'm going to bad mouth them.  The rates were GREAT.  Couldn't choose seats ahead of time without paying, which I found out when I called Customer Service...that is, when I finally found a phone number for them.  The man was useless regarding information about checking a carseat.  Now, I've worked customer service for a long time.  At this point, it would have been nice if he mentioned, "oh, you should go online and check your bags ahead of time and save yourself a lot of money."  $45 for my crazy heavy checked bag (hey, I'm moving cross-country here!) and ... wait for it ... $50 for my 1 carry-on bag.  Yeah, you read that right.  $50.  I believe the words out of my mouth were "Are you shitting me????!!!!!"  So, that's $95.  I should have bought the next fare up on a more established airline. 

So, after 30 minutes of training and confusion and fuck-ups, I finally was given my boarding passes.  So back up the elevator we go, with P in the carseat strapped to the carry-on FREAKING OUT.  I finally pulled out his lovey and sippy (read: paci) and he calmed down.  Which got us to the entrance to Security.  Hubby leaves us.  And now I am on my own.  I'm already nearly in tears.

Security:  Okay, you know when you're out and you see that mom that looks like she'd like a stiff drink and her child is screaming and running around or lying on the ground throwing a fit and she looks like she might just join him and cry and you think either, "that poor woman," or "what the fuck is wrong with her kid?"  THAT.  He was FINALLY calm.  And then I had to put everything on that damn conveyor belt.  4 bins plus the carry-on and the carseat.  Which had to be inspected by hand.  I had to unstrap everything, pile it all on, and TAKE AWAY THE LOVEY AND SIPPY.  Holy fuck, you would have thought the world ended. 

They let me carry him through and then I had to try to keep him calm and corral all my stuff again. 

This was an epic failure.  By now, not only am I holding back tears, but I'm sweating bullets and I can barely breathe.  And P is alternately lying on the floor screaming or running away screaming.  Someone helped me get everything to a bench and I strapped him back in and I'm yelling, "I need that pillow and sippy cup!!!!"  Get him settled, realize boarding passes disappeared.  Nice Security guy saw me frantically searching and deduced the ones they had just found must be mine. 

At this point I need a drink.  Or at least some f'ing coffee.  Nope.  Our gate is the first one (actually a relief - pulling that carry-on and him was rough!) and it's 15 minutes to board time at this point.  It took AN HOUR to check in and get through security. 

I stopped across from the gate and bought a ton of chocolate milk, juice, and beverages for me.  I had snacks packed.  Went to the gate, let the monster out of the cage - and he immediately charmed everyone.  Of course.  I changed him right there - the 2 women seated there were fine with it - and within minutes we were boarding.  One of the women, Kathy (bless this woman!!!) dealt with the carry-on/carseat combo and I wrestled P and the other 2 bags.  Once we got to the plane I unstrapped and this saint of a woman carried both down the aisle while I carried a now freaking out P to our aisle. 

Where I had to figure out how to strap in the carseat.  I finally finagled it and a woman comes up and I realize this poor woman is supposed to be in the window seat.  Which is completely inaccessible thanks to the carseat.  Thankfully, not a full flight, so she just moved up a row.  Strap unruly child back in and for the first time ALL DAY kind of relax. 

The flight was the easy part.  As was getting off (with flight staff assistance) and to baggage claim where P happily played chase with a couple other "freed" toddlers from the flight.  My roomie, Holly, was a saint with him and it was a breeze.  You would never have known that this was the same kid from the morning.  Unless you looked at me.  And then you could tell.

I never want to do that again.  Not alone.  Not pregnant.  Not with so much shit.  NEVER FUCKING AGAIN.

Anyway, we made it.  We're safe.  My body hates me.  I have been contracting like mad, but nothing painful and if I put my feet up they go away.  Good thing they don't scare me anymore! 

Now that I have a living room to escape into after P goes to sleep, I hope to be on here more.  And with any luck actually read some of what y'all are up to!