My Hospital Bag: Second Pregnancy

First off, I'd like to say I'm a minimalist. I try to be, anyway. I call myself a minimalist parent too. My first would've gone naked without handmedowns and even her toy collection was bought second hand or given to her by friends and family. The only thing new we made sure to buy was her infant car seat and stroller (it was a package deal).

I can't stress enough the importance of packing light for the hospital visit when delivering your baby!!!!

Ask yourself:
- How close is the hospital to your family and friends?
- Will someone be able to run to your house "real quick" and get anything forgotten?
- Do you live in an area that provides late night food options if the hospital cafeteria is closed?
- Will people come to visit you and the new baby? Have you hired a photographer to take your first pictures?

PUPPP sucks.

PUPPP or Pruritic urticarial papules and plaques of pregnancy, sucks. Doctors know very little about why it happens but some researchers in the UK found a connection to dairy consumption, having multiple babies in one birth or it being the second+ pregnancy and mothers pregnant with boys. They think it's a conflict between the male DNA and the already established female DNA--- but that's all speculation since it wasn't a formal study.

Did I tell you I'm pregnant?

I have been pretty well immersed in my own life for the last few weeks. For those of you that don't know, I'm pregnant (and halfway to my due date already!) and we finally got our own place again.

The new place has given Hubby a new kind of confidence that I haven't seen in quite awhile, BabyG has developed a rash while I'm just pregnant and bitchy.

I keep telling myself it's pregnancy hormones and that I'm not actually depressed. I keep assuring myself that I'm not actually a horrible person. It's not working. Watching mutual friends meet up while I'm uninvited on Facebook brings me back to high school. "Sorry... Didn't know you were available..." And "Well, [random name] kind of just thinks you're a bitch." Yeah, well... I guess I am. I'm just lonely. I'm at that place where I want to invite people over to our place now that we have one but when no one shows up it will crush me.

I've stopped unpacking. I am slowly just shoving the boxes to the spare room and shutting the door to hide the stacks of boxes and bags of clothes. I can feel my blood pressure go up just thinking about that room.

I've pissed my family off. Well, my sister has always been very critical of me and even her positivity can only be met with curiosity. Why is honesty so bad? Why am I the bad guy for saying how I feel? My mom kept asking me, "Have you thought about my feelings in this?" In something that didn't even directly involve her. Obviously, I left my grandmothers house in bad terms. It didn't have to be that way, I so desperately didn't want it to be that way. I still have a handful of things there that I need but am too agitated to go back and get. I guess when you become old and senile you can do no wrong. Even me expressing my anger (not directly at my grandma) is some big disrespectful thing that I shouldn't have done. Do you even know how suffocating it feels to be told you aren't allowed to feel a certain way? How robbed of free will and disgusted it is to be told you aren't allowed to feel a certain way simply because of whom it is you feel that way towards? I called no names or made any remarks that weren't based on facts but yet I was the one who was told to feel guilty and wrong for my simple act of feeling. It became clear to me, through the actions of everyone in my family that there is a clear line between me and them. I guess because of my relationship with my family I have always approached all of my relationships with people on thin ice. The only time I remember my mom telling me she was proud of me in my adult life was after having a kid. My sister and grandma began to warm up to me after I had BabyG. I became worth something by joining the unspoken Mother Club. Such a thin string I dangled on with just that.

Well... Anyway.

I'm just bitter and pregnant, I guess. Yes, being pregnant is an absolute explanation not an excuse. If you've never been pregnant before you'll never understand the draining, guilt-filled, bitchfest that is carrying a lovable leech in your womb. I have begun to feel actual kicks now, especially when it's been 20mins since my last bathroom visit. According to the scales at the doctors office I've only gained 8lbs (that's been about a month ago, though) which is on track in the "healthy" weight gain chart for my size/height. 8lbs is a substantially smaller difference than what I had gained with BabyG at this point (30lbs... Yikes!) and it seems to be primarily in my torso area. I catch myself lifting my gut and carrying it. Elastic bands are my friend! My belly is so heavy some days. I can't avoid it. I remember feeling this twisted and alone while pregnant with BabyG but I lived thousands of miles away from everyone I knew... This time is different, I live just mere minutes away from the few people I call close and the same amount of minutes for those in the ripples of the friendship scale. I'm probably just being neurotic and needy but I can't help it. Hubby says all the right things and caters to my insecurities to the best of his ability, I am very lucky in that way.

I guess you could say this blog is a cry for help. A passive aggressive bitchfest that I hope will turn into hugs and sympathy. Just being honest. 

What they never tell you :aka: I had a baby

Wow, I could write a novel at this point.

BabyG was born on March 12th at 10:41am. I had thirty-five hours of labor, about three hours of it was in "active labor" the rest was in a marathon of chemicals trying to get my little uterus dweller evicted. I wanted a chemical free labor, instead I got pre-eclampsia and was told I would be induced at thirty-seven weeks. Devastated, I participated in all of the blood drawing, the peeing in a jug for 24hrs and being told once again that I do have pre-eclampsia. I had very little to no swelling (For even just being pregnant) and I felt that my blood pressure only correlated with my lack of patience as a very round pregnant lady... not scary levels that mean a possible seizure.

I wanted a tub birth. I wanted to use the tub with jets to ease contractions until I could push in the birthing tub. I wanted to go into labor at 40+ weeks and have my water break naturally. I wanted to be able to call Hubby and tell him the baby was coming on her terms-- no one else. I wanted relaxing music in the background as I eased myself into the pushing process. I wanted Hubby rubbing my back as he told me how awesome and womanly I am in between pushes. I wanted it to be a moment he and I would bond over and be able to relive every year during her birthday, embarrassing all of her friends with our gritty details of her birth.

Not to say I didn't get any of those things. I did not get a tub birth, I had managed to have my mom fly in before I had given birth so she was there for many of the contractions and helped me through pushing. There was no music playing as I pushed, I did not get to ease into pushing while sitting in a jetted tub. I did cave and get a shot of pain killer that is meant to induce sleep for an hour.... twice. I did get induced three weeks early. I had an IV hooked up and liquid induction pumped through my veins after a destructive drug in pill form was shoved against my cervix trying to force it to soften. I made decisions against my better judgement. I forced my baby out in the world three weeks early because I followed one doctor's opinion instead of getting a second opinion or switching hospitals like I had originally wanted.

Decisions were made and stuck by. I let the doctors win, in some people's opinion. I'm left with those decisions. Me. Those will be my burden when I recall the events that lead up to the birth of our daughter. In the moment, I felt strapped but never officially bullied. Well, except my first nurse. I hated that cunt, I'm very pleased I didn't give birth while she was on staff. Anyway, those were Hubby and I's decisions. We made uncomfortable decisions based on medical opinions that were never double checked. I will always remember my doctor asking me, "Do you want a balloon inserted to your vaginal area to compress against the cervix and coax it open or would you rather me just break your water and start you on the pitosin?" As I chose the latter I felt defeated and as I felt the gush of water run down my butt and flow around me on the hospital bed I felt the heaviest guilt I have ever felt in my entire life. I cried to myself when the doctor and nurse left the room. Hubby had gone home to shower and eat. I'm so glad he missed my water being broken. At that point we had been at the hospital over night and I had barely dilated at all. My contractions were so minimal and so far apart. BabyG's heartbeat was consistent and beautiful though. It seemed like all we did that first day was listen to her heartbeat. I cried and apologized to her, I didn't want her to enter the world this way: In a "rush" and not on her terms.

Twelve hours later I start having serious contractions, bouncing on a yoga ball was my main relief. After my water had broken I continuously leaked water. Bloody, gross water. It hurt to make even the most minimal movements. My pelvic area was widening and I could feel it in my bones. My only relief was making animalistic noises. Low ones at first, I tried not to sound too weird but after showing my butt to every nurse for the last day and basic strangers shoving their three or four fingers deep into my vagina counting the space in my cervix I decided it was too late for poise. At thirty hours of barely anything happening but a lot of pain my lower back and an endless stream of nasty water leaking from my vag, I was so over myself. The pain would swell from my bottom and wrap it's painful arms around my lower belly. They weren't like menstrual cramps, it was like a 'I totally lifted that very heavy item totally wrong' kind of pain. I had finally reached 4cm dilated after days of being on an IV drip and I remember them telling me I was almost to five and after five it should be quick and if I wanted the epidural that would be the time to get it. By the time I reached a "solid five" I was in unearthly pain. I couldn't be on the ball anymore and leaning into the contraction no longer helped to relieve the pain. Five is only halfway, most everyone knows ten is the magic pushing number. I was in so much pain my whole body trembled and crying through the contraction was the only way to get through it. I woke Hubby from sleep more than once yelling out in pain, both he and my mom would rub my back, my shoulders, my neck-- anything. I remember at one point my mom trying to rub my lower back through a contraction that had helped before just made the needles get deeper in my back. I described it as feeling like a pitchfork was being shoved through my lower-back and protruding through my front lower abdomen. I had a couple hours of this. I begged the nurse for another shot of pain medicine. I stressed that I didn't want an epidural, in my mind seven was my lucky number. If I could get to seven. If I could just sleep until I got to seven.

I asked her to check me again before she gave me the shot though. The nurse before her told me she wouldn't give me the shot at five centimeters because it could slow labor. This nurse said if I didn't budge from five from the last time she had checked me, she wouldn't mind easing my pain for a little while and felt I deserved a nap. When she told me I was still at five my mom said she could see how defeated I was. When the nurse left to get the pain killer shot I sobbed to Hubby and my mom that I couldn't do it. I didn't have it in me. Hubby looked me in the eye and told me how good I was doing and that he knew I could do it. My mom told me I wouldn't be any less of a person if I took the epidural and that I was a warrior for wanting to go without an epidural. I had decided that if I woke up in the hour or two the shot gave me without dilating at all, I would take the epidural.

Thirty minutes later I feel the pain swell in my bottom and wrap around to my belly. I hear myself moan in pain but I'm not sure if I'm awake or not. My mind was organizing colors and shapes. This mechanical claw was coming from heaven and organizing items similar to chess pieces on this square board. Not quite checkerboard square but a grid none-the-less. All of the colors were the same. The claw would hover and snatch the one in the middle away and place the wrong color and wrong shape in the pattern and it would make the pain swell in my bottom, I had disrupted the pattern and had to pay. The pain would wrap around my belly. Still in the dream I would rush to correct the pattern. The pain would subside. Again, the claw would chase across the board and snatch up a piece and replace it out of order. I opened my eyes to see a nurse checking the computer next to me. I was bent forward and clutching the railing of the bed. Trembling I ask her why I was still in pain. It hadn't been an hour, it didn't feel like an hour. Why was I still in pain? Please, dear baby Jesus tell me why I was still in pain. O, and I need to pee. I need to pee BAD!

Both Hubby and Mom had settled down to nap while I napped, they were as emotionally checked out as I was physically. My mom stirred, the nurse left to retrieve another nurse. I tried to lean into the contraction and an immense pain shot up my spine and I gripped the opposite railing on the bed facing my mom and Hubby. I heard the railing shake as I screamed that I couldn't escape the pain anymore. I sobbed that I couldn't do it. I gave up. Just kill me. Mom jumped to my side as if to catch the pain I was trying to discard. I had never seen Hubby jump up so fast from the couch and look at me completely lost on how to approach helping me. I didn't have any idea on how to tell him to help me other than put me out of my misery. I apologized, I told him I'd have to get the epidural. I was done. I couldn't do it.

The two nurses hustled back in and in a blink I was laying on my back and my nurse checked me as I pulled away from her, "I can't feel a cervix, maybe a little on this side?" The other nurse went opposite of me, "I need to check her." I whimpered and told her no, I think. "No, I'm going to check you." She forced my legs open and shoved what felt like her entire arm up there. "She's ready. She's nine, maybe ten. She's ready." She looked at me, "Sorry, sweetie, but I had to check you. You're ready. Your body is trying to push." I told her I wasn't ready to push, I just had to pee. We argued about it. She got me a bed pan and when I tried to pee nothing came out. "Thought so." she said and they disappeared out the door. I was still very high from the shot.

I blink. 
I could hear stirring in the room, I can hear myself yell from the pain. I can hear my mom sniffling from crying.
I blink.
"If you feel the need to push, you go ahead and push." The other nurse tells me. I don't even know if I look at her.
I blink.
"Come over here, she's ready to push. Go over there, Mom. Get on the other side." I can feel Mom taking my other hand as Hubby squeezes my right hand.
Contraction, I push. I can't help it, I push.
"Wait, wait! We need a doctor!" I hear. "No we don't! We got this!" The other nurse says, holding my leg. Then I notice her and the original nurse are both holding a leg. When did that happen? They talk briefly about some other doctor that isn't mine that is suppose to stop by. I scream again and push again. I push because it makes the pain stop.
I blink.
My doctor is in my face, everything around her is blurry. "Just hold on, Beth. Let me change into scrubs. You're doing great. Just let me change and you're all set." She taps me on my shoulder and I remember trying to recall what she was wearing. Wasn't she wearing scrubs already? The pain swells, I hear a nurse tell me it's okay to push so I push through the pain. I don't feel like I'm doing anything but it helps the pain.
I blink.
I look up to Hubby and his eyes are red and he tries to smile at me. I try to focus, I tell myself I need to remember what he looks like. I need to remember this. Pain, I push.
I blink. 
My mom is telling me how awesome I am and how great I'm doing. Hubby is squeezing my arm reassuringly. I look down and notice the room has easily ten nurses in it. Didn't my birthing plan say less people as possible? Pain, I push.
I blink.
My doctor is already between my legs casually sitting sideways on the bed, "Am I helping you? Do you need guidance when pushing?" Yes, I tell her. I don't know what I'm doing. Help, I need help. "You're doing great." She says.

I'm kind of awake by now. I can feel pressure from my doctor pushing fingers inside of me trying to help me open up while I push. I keep telling everyone, "I can't!" when they want me to pull my legs back and do a crunch into the contraction while I push. That seemed like way too much work. I kept exclaiming how tired I am, Hubby keeps telling me to push. I didn't want to let go of him. I was so tired. After thirty minutes of pushing I can tell the difference between a bowel push and a vaginal push. I would mentally tell myself which type of push I needed. I kept trying to push even when there wasn't a contraction. I wanted it all over. I wanted BabyG  here already. I knew if I could get some of her out, all of her would come out.

Pain comes and I push. Pushing felt so nice. I could feel wider. "Your baby has hair!" The other nurse exclaimed.
"She has lots of hair!" Hubby says.
"She's going to be beautiful!" Mom says.

Pain comes and I push, I push with all my might. "That was a perfect push!" my doctor says, "I need two more just like that."

Pain. Push. Pain. Push. "O no. She's stuck. I need the bed broken down. Now. Do it." my doctor says. Pain, I push. As I'm pushing the bed suddenly gives way under my butt and after some instruction I don't understand the other nurse leans into my stomach. "Got it!" my doctor exclaims, "One more push, Beth! Some on She-rah! You can do this!" I push again and it was a burning gush and relief all at once. It felt like I had pushed a slimy turkey out. I could feel her arms and legs all folded together come out of me. I could feel as the doctor gently tugged on her little body to help her come out. I look up at Hubby and he is looking at the doctor with tears running down his face, my mom is cheering me on and telling me I had done it. I had done something she had never been able to do. I had given birth without an epidural. She knew I could do it. I don't hear crying so I'm panicking on the inside. They place BabyG on my chest, she cocks her little head up and opens one eye wide. We make eye contact, "Oh. my. god. You're real." Is all I manage to say. "You're here. Lia, you're here." With her one eye wide open she gives me a weak smile. Hubby is squeezing my arm. They begin to wipe her off and BabyG begins to cry. I can feel the whole room relax with each cry BabyG belts out.

Obviously some of this might not be 100% accurate since I was in a great deal of pain and I only kind of remember some of it while other moments are so clear to me it's almost like I can walk right back into that moment. I also left some of it out and possibly skewed some of the timeline. Again, pain. I do remember my doctor asking very sternly why my birthing plan wasn't being followed and why I didn't have a tub out and she made the nurses feel kind of shitty for not giving me my tub birth-- but honestly, I jumped from five to ten so fast I don't blame them and I was screaming to get the baby out as fast as possible. Things don't always go as planned. Going into this I had the mindset of all of my ideas of childbirth being a loose rendition of what may actually happen. I knew the common goal was to have a breathing baby. I accepted that for the sake of my offspring, my desires would have to take the sidelines or simply-- there wasn't enough time.

What could I change if I could? The unchangeable.

I wouldn't have hemorrhoids. I wouldn't have Hubby seen me like he did, but I would have been terribly sad if he wasn't there during the process like he was. I wouldn't have pre-eclampsia. I would have changed hospitals at twenty-five weeks like I had wanted to. (But honestly, whos to say it wouldn't have happened exactly like this over there too?) I wouldn't have bled so much after. I wouldn't have a baby with jaundice. I wouldn't have to use a squirt bottle on my junk after I pee... and so on.

During my very painful contractions I kept telling myself, "Three days from now I'm going to feel like a total badass."

I was right.

Crazy Pregnant Dream

Lately I haven't had any baby-related dreams, it's mainly been me in my regular weirdo dreamscape and someone mentioning that I shouldn't be doing "that" or "this" because I'm pregnant and me denying it because I didn't "feel" pregnant in the dream.

Well, lastnight I had a bought of insomnia and I think that played a part. At a last stitch effort at 3am I took some nyquil and crawled into bed with my snoring husband. It had to be nyquil induced weirdness because at some point I could physically feel myself clinging to my hubby while my mind went on an adventure.

I was standing at the threshold at the old church I went to as a kid. It is a building built well over 100 years ago and I've always felt it was haunted. Well, the door frame was lined with people from my childhood and pictures of myself. One side was just numbers and names while the other side was the pictures from the past. I stood there kind of weepy like I knew everyone had died, even me. Hubby appears beside me and startles me when he puts a hand on my shoulder, "Do you miss them?" he asks.
"I'm just sad they will miss this." I say as I rub my baby bump.
"Tell me something about this one.." He says pointing to pictures. I tell him little stories related to each picture, like I had been there for each shot. I turn around at some point because I hear a noise and I'm at Michaels, searching for yarn for a baby blanket for a friend and for a scarf for my mother. I search and search and run down and aisle of yarn that was easily miles long, I take a bend around the corner and I see myself laying down, eyes closed and my baby rolling around in the swollen belly of myself on the ground. My neice and nephew along with my hubby's neices and nephews were crouched around the laying down me.

We stood there, watching my baby press fingers and toes against the laying down me's skin. We counted the fingers and toes. "Aunt B, help her out of there. She doesn't want to be in there anymore." My 5yro neice says, tugging on the standing me's arm.

"She's not ready yet." I say, bending down and cup my palms around the rolling baby like I was helping her out of a puddle, "She needs a few more weeks, then we can meet her." With my hands cupped around the skin shape of a baby the infant in utero presses her face against the belly skin and grins. I withdrawl my hands and take a few steps back.

"She wants to meet you too." My neice smiles up at me and takes me by the hand.

I wake up with serious pressure on my bladder. I had to pee.

I can still remember most everything about that dream. It's been replaying in my head. How creepy everything was. Everywhere in the dream (except Michael's) was covered in dead, brown leaves. I was mortified when I woke up.

Home Stretch!

Pregnant Log
[ Pregnant: 29 Weeks ]
[ Mood Swings: Insecure. Weepy. Mess. ]
[ Cravings: Peanut butter, Waffles, Ice cream, Ice cream. ]

Holy Guacamole!

I have 11 weeks left!

Just eleven weeks!

That's insane!

Look, another exclamation mark!

Okay, I'm done freaking out now... kind of. We still have nothing for the baby. I say nothing but we have a bassinet but no sheets... one skirt and a few stuffed animals. O, and a Bumbo that she can't use until she's a couple months old. I've been hyperventilating about it and Hubby reassures me that it will all fall into place and I shouldn't stress so much. I wish I had his level of confidence.

I have also long acknowledged that I could very well make it two weeks past my due date before they start breathing down my neck about chemically inducing and that nasty C-section thing. I really hope I don't have to have a C-section. That surgery sounds so invasive and scary. My BFF had one but she had TWINS! I just have one. With her first she did it with no chemicals and it was vaginal. I want to be able to do the same with my baby.

This morning I woke up to very distinct karate kicks to my belly button. I propped myself up and just watched my belly jerk and twitch as BabyG wiggled around. I tried to get Hubby to see but she got bashful, I guess. All day today she has made some very prominent kicks in utero. She feels strong and cramped. I guess she's running out of room. Last doctor's visit Doc said, "Ooo, your uterus is swelling nicely." So I guess I'm right on target but cheese and crackers the kicks to my ribs were killer last night!

I watched the Hobbit with some friends and Hubby lastnight. The movie is UH-MAY-ZING by the way. It's a MUST see and we watched it in 3D. Worth it!  I MADE IT THROUGH THE WHOLE MOVIE WITHOUT HAVING TO GO PEE! Yes, it was that important it needed caps. I was so impressed with myself but BabyG wasn't having it the last 30mins of the film. She was kicking me in what felt like my spine... well, the very back of my rib cage. I stuck it through though! We were all proud of ourselves for not going to the bathroom during the movie. ha. They all had a couple alcoholic beverages before the movie. I have been drinking a couple gallons of water a day. I'm just so thirsty. I've also gained more weight than I anticipated but I'm still within "normal" range but I'm starting to get nervous about losing it once I have the baby.

It's making me very insecure.

I've had this sinking feeling that Hubby is bored with me. (He assures me he is very much in love with me and that I'm a beautiful, sexy, preggosauras.) I can't help it. I just feel like we're drifting apart.... but I can't tell if I'm over-analyzing the situation. (Probably) I keep thinking he is going to leave me. I guess I shouldn't have watched Maury today.... or Teen Mom 2. Those people aren't us. Those situations aren't my situations. We are different. I keep trying to remind myself of these things but pregnancy has really morphed my perception of me to be skewed. I guess because I never really wanted kids to begin with. I remember telling Hubby ages ago, "I don't want kids. I don't want to plan for kids, anyway. If I ever plan for a kid, I will plan to not have a kid." I'm pretty selfish. Well, was selfish. I wanted to be able to drink and go out and party and do whatever, where ever, when ever. I didn't have a crazy teenage phase, I waited until I was well into 21 before I even went to bars and then did all my insane stuff between 22-24 years old. I don't feel like I'm done having a good time either. I want to still have people over and have a good time but be responsible with my kid too. I want to show my kid that having a child isn't the end of my personal life. I will be the example for her. Hubby and I will be her prime example for what love is. My lifestyle choices will give her examples of what is acceptable in a public sector.

Augh, I'm just rambling now. Anyway-- BabyG has some mega ninja kicks and I'm sure in a few weeks I will be able to see her roll over and my whole stomach get all weird shaped and I will probably be a bit grossed out.

Dear Baby,

You are loved. First and foremost, love is what your father and I have for you. He loves you more than me, I'm pretty sure of it. I'm okay with it as long as you both don't gang up on me and call me names. But anyway, we love you. I want so many things for you. I want to protect you from all the hate in the world. I want you to dye your hair green and openly take your girlfriend to prom. (If you have girlfriends) I want you to stand up for the weak hearted and stand tall to the weak minded.

You are the next generation. You will be the captain of your own ship. I won't know your every emotion unless you express them to me. Please, express your emotions. I hope you learn to accept others even if they don't accept you. I want you to climb mountains and dive into the deepest seas. I want you to be better than I ever was. I look forward to holding you as you sleep and then chasing you down once you learn how to use your feet.

No matter how far you travel in this world I want you to know that you can always call Mom and Dad to pick you up. If you are anything like we were during our teen years a 3am phone call asking us to pick your drunk ass up won't be too far fetched. Lying will get you into the most trouble, truth will allow for less consequences (If any) to come your way.

Now, I must tell you about the world you're about to enter. The world is an ugly, fantastic place... Filled with demons and hidden unicorns. Hopefully you will also befriend a Queen or two. (They are fabulous friends indeed) The food is everlasting and always go for the local eateries over the chain restaurants. There is war, there will always be war. There is famine and starving children, there is sadness and suicide. Death is always closer than you imagine. Gravity is a science I hope you learn to appreciate, along with all the amazing science you I hope you want to prove (or disprove).

Even with all the nastiness in the world, I hope you will see the beauty around you. I hope to teach you the beauty of the world amongst all the sadness. I hope your new eyes see the world as a challenge rather than a burden. As you wiggle around in my belly I hope you someday appreciate the life that has been given to you. You have a couple more months to kick box in my belly and I hope you are able to be strong and take that first breath that leads into many million more. If you are able to join us out here, I'd really love to meet you and get to know you.

Love and kisses,
Your Mommy <3 p="p">

Merry STFU

Pregnant Log
[Pregnant: 26wks]
[Mood Swings: bitchbitchbitch.]
[Cravings: Sweets, cereal, and chicken!]

Friday is Christmas day!!! What? Didn't you know that??

Okay, so maybe it's only Christmas Day for my new little family. I decided that since we're doing christmas in FL with Hubby's grandparents then we should do one just us before we go and within our schedule. Nothing too fussy, just exchanging of gifts and he gets to use his new fryer he bought for thanksgiving. We're just doing a chicken instead of a turkey and invited some people over to partake in said food and someone that Hubby can drink with since I cannot. (Very sad face, I can't wait to not be preggosauras.)

My mom gave us a tree complete with decorations. I've bought all that I'm going to for Hubby... he's difficult to shop for and it's hard enough for me to contain myself and not make him open everything up already. (Last night I forced him into opening one of this gifts... it was cologne. Every morning he'd huff and puff and take forever deciding what to do because he's low on the ones he has.) Today he got to put on his new bottle of Mont Blanc Legend. I even checked up on him today and he was wearing it and still liked it! Score! Now for him to open the rest of his presents and hopefully have the same outcome...

I haven't bought gifts of anyone else. Nope... no one. Luckily, I'm not seeing my family until Feb and we aren't seeing his until Jan. We have a couple extra weeks... but I'm just taking it as it goes. I'm trying to focus on my stresses. Currently, swapping hospitals is my top priority. I'm not feeling so keen on my current one and today a customer came in raving about a hospital Hubby has been rooting for.... so I took that as a final sign. I'm going for a tour tomorrow and will give an official word by the end of the day tomorrow! Hopefully it will be a clean switch. I may get my tub birth after all.



BabyG is moving a lot lately. It's surfacing in my dreamstate. Last night I had this horrible dream about being possessed by a demon and I murdered a couple people by slicing their heads off with these knew knives my MIL sent us as a wedding gift. Well, the people I murdered in my dream were also possessed by demons and somehow by my slaying them I was freed of the demon that was possessing me... It was a weird, stressful dream that left me exhausted all day long. I woke up a couple times just to make sure I was in fact in bed and reality was in deed better than my horrific nightmare. She's a night baby. I was worried because she hasn't been moving around that much the last few days but it dawned on me that she's doing all of her moving while I'm snoozing. Unless I stay up 24/7 it will be hard to be 100% sure. She also likes to nap while I'm moving, the more motionless I am the more movement she pumps out so I think my movement puts her to sleep during the day.

Also, I hate christmas music. "Frosty the Snowman" and "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Clause" makes me want to punch kittens. Poor, adorable, defenseless, kittens. Two of our stores are stuck on christmas music. Just christmas music. I've heard the top seven christmas songs over twenty dozen times. Yes, twenty dozen... a baker's dozen, even.



Being Heard

Pregnant Log
[Pregnant: 24wks]
[Mood Swings: I cry, I cry, I cry again.]
[Cravings: CheddarBo Biscuits from BoJangles!!!!!] That I can't have because there aren't any Boj's in Louisana!! *extreme grump*

There isn't anything distinctly that prompted me to write this blog, other than I have been writing a blog in my head almost every day for two weeks now. It's way past due. 

I've been thinking a lot about how far along I am and that BabyG can hear everything around me now. Mainly, me, I know. That's a lot of pressure. I'm scared she's going to come out cussing and spitting out cellphone information. I've started listening to more music as well as specific types more than others. I told myself for years if I was pregnant I would listen to nothing but beautiful classical pieces with an abundance of stringed instruments and I would birth a Mozart.... Realistically it's just been a bunch of indie and non-english speaking music. This baby will be cultured, dammit! I know she can feel the pulses more than the actual music so I've also listened to a share of dubstep. I can tell she can hear Dubstep the most because she moves around the most when I'm listening to it. Mommy's little raver. Hopefully she will be like mommy and be able to celebrate beats and bright lights without partaking of an abundance of drugs. Oxygen and positive energy in a room has always been good enough for me. Get enough happy, dancing people in a room and I will be in the middle of the crowd handing out glow sticks like Mardi Gras beads. 

-------------------

"We are so domestic." Hubby said to me the other day. 
"And?" I quickly asked back.
"I mean, we're super domestic. Like, stay at home and watch TV in between daily chores kind of domestic." He insisted.
"Is that bad?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.
"I didn't even notice when it happened but I'm completely okay with it." He mused.
"Well, I sure as hell hope you are, because we're about to get even more domestic." I say, motioning to my swollen belly. 

-------------------

 I am going to start with the being aware of how risky it is to talk about marital problems at all, much less on the internet. So I am attempting this subject with caution and extreme neutrality... for the sake of telling all of my internet blog stalkers. 

Communication is key. It is the proverbial glue that holds a relationship together. People start with trust, lust and various other things, but for me... it's communication. Obviously. Words play a major part of my life. I want to be able to communicate with the person I'm with and have them communicate right back. Word exchange to me is very much like playing a game of War. You have to artfully use each card and hopefully you end up with the most cards, or no cards... depending on how you deemed the winner. 

So, basically, Hubby and I have a communication hurtle. I like to talk a lot about my issues, and he would rather us not. Any time I express a passionate idea to him I can see the distress in his face and can almost hear the loud rattle in his head as he tries to figure out a decent approach without making me more angry/upset. It's so loud in his head and his lips remain motionless. Somewhere between his brain and his lips the English words get lost and he simply just looks at me, dumbfounded and a bit uncomfortable. Sometimes I back him up into a man corner with my woman issues. I say it like that simply because no matter how equal I want our sexes to be, our brains work in very different ways. For many years I spoke of my manly mind with much pride, being pregnant has slaughtered any amount of manliness I thought I ever had. The simplicity is gone, the cocky self-assurance has taken a long vacation... and most of all, sadly... that little guy that would say, "Whoa, whoa! That's some girly whiny shit right there. Don't you say a word!" has fled the scene.

It's not just one specific thing we struggle to communicate with either, it's various things that I clump together at once and it's hard for him to follow which thing I'm really concerned about at that particular moment. We aren't at a stand still with this either, I can tell we are both figuring out how to approach this hurtle. It's the square peg we are trying to fit in the circle hole. Slowly, we are sanding off the edges to make it fit. It's just frustrating. I can only speak for me, though. I'm blaming it on being pregnant, but I think this is an ex history thing. [I think] he feels like I am attacking him when I am expressing something that is bothering me when actually I'm just trying to let him know. I want him to say, "Now that's just crazy." Or "Shut up, you're beautiful." or even, "I'm sorry." (Even if he needs to apologize or not. Sometimes it's just nice to be apologized to... even if it's misplaced guilt.) Mainly, how we've been dealing with this is I am sobbing while he holds me and I can feel him holding his breath, trying to decide which direction to head. Neutrality is safe, so he stays motionless. I feel unheard and brushed off, or even like he doesn't care at all. 

"I'm not like them. I actually care about you and do love you. I don't like being blamed for your exes." He's said more than once. For the most part he follows it too, we've celebrated the freedoms we allow each other that our previous exes had not allowed us. Being pregnant has stirred up all of my past bullshit and mistakes and faces I'd rather not see again. My dreams run rampant with him leaving me, me reliving not so glorious moments with previous relationships and many mornings I wake up regaining my barrens again and realizing it was only a dream. All day I have those bad dreams playing in the back of my head tugging at my emotions and convincing me things that aren't in reality. I know he loves me, I can see it in his eyes when he looks at me. The way he reaches for me when we're sitting on the couch. He loves me in every action he does. I know this. I can feel it. Our problems aren't big, we don't fight. No matter how many times I tell myself this I find myself sobbing at the thought of him leaving. He hasn't given me any reason to be suspicious of his actions or even question how he feels about me. 

*exhale*

Now that I've aired some dirty laundry, I guess I can peace out. All of my qualms are textbook pregnancy paranoias. I've read about them all over the babybump forums and in my pregnancy app... and in my pregnancy book.

So why???

Stop it, Pregnant Brain! You're emabarrassing me.

Pregnant Log
[ Pregnant: 20wks] Tomorrow hits 20wks
[ Mood Swings: Tears not anger]
[Cravings: BBQ sauce, salad & greens in general]

I have so much to write about that I've talked myself out of writing every time I get a chance.

We have cable now.
We got married.
I can feel the baby move.

>>>Politics.

I went almost a whole week without showering. (By accident)
I miss my BFF.
I've decided I suck at my job.
We haven't bought ONE THING for the baby.
I cry about everything... especially things that "don't matter". (TV commercials especially.)
My dreams are not pleasant.
[[ I'm not looking forward to Thanksgiving not surrounded by family. ]]


Just to list a few. My heartburn is out of control. October flew by... I mean... I blinked and the entire month was gone. Just gone. Poof. Vamu. I've played a lot of video games and we've watched A LOT of TV. I blame that. For as much time that I spend with Hubby I feel like we never see each other. It's not like we have friends we hang out without each other either. I keep waiting for that moment of reflection and the, "Omgwtfwheredidmylifego?!" but I have yet to have that settle in. I'm not sure if it ever will. I have had that pang of, "Without Hubby I would probably still be mooching off of my BFF and her family while trying to maintain the idea of martial bliss just isn't in the cards for me." as I go to bed wondering what Hubby is up to and scolding exes in my head for all the scandalous things I let them get away with.

My dreams have made me incredibly insecure... well, that and the fact that I've gained 15lbs. It doesn't help that I eat a bunch of junk food. Sometimes I just want to cry into cookie dough while watching Golden Girls on DVR. I haven't slowed down. I eat, I cook, I clean, I watch TV, I play Sims 3, I sleep, I eat, I clean, I watch TV-- and well, you get the picture.

I came home from work today and hopped in the shower and it felt like the first shower at home after two weeks in away camp. Seriously. That bad. I think the last time I took a shower was Monday? Maybe? Damn. I don't even have a kid to blame. Well.. not yet, anyway. Then I tried to recall my last week or so. What a big shiny blur that is. My back is killing me and I'm always starving.

That's all I can focus on: I'm fat, my back huuuurts and where is the food?

I keep telling myself just to go to the apartment gym and spend an hour on the stationary bike while I read a book and escape for a little while. I can't though-- I can't take a break from the world. Something isn't allowing me to. It took serious effort to slow down and just turn on music... I stared at the blank entry page for a good two hours before words started pouring out. I'm so distracted and pregnant brain. There is so much I want to do and get done and research... It's like I'm a 3 year old with serious ADHD during a light show. My BFF and sister said repeatedly, "Being pregnant makes me dumb." and I thought they were just making excuses.... BOY ARE THEY RIGHT!

I mean, I've never been the brightest light bulb but I'm no Paris Hilton. These days Paris Hilton looks brainy next to me. When I go into work and I get asked common questions about phones my brain just shuts off.

Wow, I suck at thoughts today.

There's a baby in there!!!

Pregnant Log
[Pregnant: 16wks] I went to the doctor!!!!!!
[Mood Swings: Not so bad]
[Cravings: BBQ sauce, Tacos & Ice cream]


That's inside my belly right now. Oh. My. Gravy. That's legit. Can you believe it?! I know I sure didn't. For the last few nights I have had very vivid dreams of the ultrasound tech telling me that I had just gained a lot of weight and sending me home. I told the tech that and she laughed out loud and said, "No, You're very pregnant, look at that little baby." She did a lot of prodding and poking trying to get BabyG to turn and face us but to no avail. She did succeed in making me have to pee super bad and pissing the baby off. I swear BabyG swatted us away like a fly and curled up tighter. When she first spotted BabyG she was blowing bubbles and to me it looked like burps. (I say she but we don't know for sure.)

The baby was doing backflips and twisting around; doing basically anything she could turn away from us. I asked how I could possibly now feel all that movement and the ultrasound tech said it's because the baby weighs only four ounces right now and give it about three to four weeks and I will be certainly feel every movement. From how low she was in my pelvis looking for little BabyG I know why I have such low pelvic pains. "Yeah, that's got to be the baby kicking you. She's too light to feel like a kick but she definitely can make you feel a quick jabbing pain if she kicks out just right."

My phone has been ringing off the hook today. I sent a picture of one of the ultrasound pics to my mom, sister, MIL, SIL and BFF. Mom said she screamed really loud and jumped up and down and was at a client's house. Everyone ran to check on her and she waved the baby picture at them with excitement. Hah, priceless. I tried to call my Grandma and called my MIL back and both didn't answer. I'm so exhausted. After my ultrasound I saw the doctor and signed even more paperwork and answered a bunch of health questions about Hubby and I. I see the doctor, all my questions I had in my head were long gone. She does my pap smear and keeps asking me if I have any questions to which I am drawing a blank. She then gets me to sign even more paperwork and commends me for wanting to have "as natural as possible" birth.

I go to the lab and the lady stacks 8 viles next to me. "Are all of those for me?" I ask, the nurse smirks and says yes. It hurt so bad, I am squeamish of needles so I turned my head and the lady pumped blood out of me like an olympic star. It took her maybe a whole minute to get all of those little viles filled with my dark red blood. The needle she had stuck into my arm jiggled every time she switched viles. I winched with pain but got through it.

So it's official. I'm with child. There is no denying it now. I brought Hubby lunch and showed him the pictures. He was too busy for us to talk, so I ended up eating alone and he came over to peek at the ultrasound pictures. "Is it real yet?" He asked. I of course said yes. I guess I kind of had a little selfish slimmer of hope that they'd tell me I'm not pregnant so I could get wasted drunk for Halloween since we're throwing a really big party. Guess I can't get drunk after all.

Baby Killer

Pregnant Log
[Pregnant: Unofficially 13wks] Still haven't gone to the doctor yet, but I do have health insurance card now! Making an appointment for tomorrow, hopefully.
[Mood Swings: Off the Charts]
[Cravings: Chocolate Milk and Pumpkin EVERYTHING!]

First off, I want to say I'm in an insanely good mood right this second. I don't know if anything will happen in between the beginning and ending of this blog to ruin this splendeferous feeling I have... but let's hope not! I hopped up right when my alarm went off this morning (that never happens) took my first morning poop in what feels like months. What? It's a wonderful feeling to start with empty bowels for the day. You take that for granted now, but just wait until your uterus is clogged with baby. AND I tried out Dunkin' Donuts. Well, not tried it, but the first one in Louisiana sprang up in my neighborhood. I managed to get completely ready and be out the door a few minutes after 8am. That's an easy thirty minutes early. The drive-thru was packed, it is the second day it's been open, but I wanted to go in anyway to make sure they had the pumpkin treats. After a quick moving line and the lady behind me calling in late for work because "My son had something at his school with 4-H, that's why I'm late..." Not because she was getting DD or anything. I ordered my food, I felt like I was ordering for two and the cashier kind of raised an eyebrow at me. C'mon! It was just a breakfast sandwich and 5 munchkins! I've ordered more at a DD without having a baby to blame! But anyway... with the luck of my tiny car I weasled out of my parking spot and zoomed into work, with plenty of time to spare.

I haven't felt this great in over a week, maybe two. I want to say a month but I know that's an exaggeration. I've also started drinking coffee again. That has helped mentally a lot. I'm starting to see why people stick to their chemical addictions while pregnant. Well, on my own level. I'm drinking the milky "cappuccino" drinks at gas stations and a Coolatta from DD. I'm trying to refrain from my black coffee addiction. I'm deluting my sweet nectar of life with milk to appease the low brow, finger pointing society that tells me no. It's also one cup a day as oppose to two cups while I get ready and then a huge to-go cup for my morning, or an entire pot on my day off. I also gave it up for two whole months. I was dying and after my rough week last week, I caved and had one cup of cappuccino from a gas station. For five whole minutes (the beginning of the cup) I was in the garden of eden, scampering through with all my birdy friends. No, seriously, I had a moment. I also feel that way when I satisfy a pregnancy craving. I only ate two of my five pumpkin munchkins before I felt too full to continue (They will be a great snack later) I bit into one of them and it was like my hair was being blown in the wind, and I just won a trophy for being the most awesome being in the universe. It's odd to feel that way about food or, well, anything in particular. I've always had a very grounded, quite cynical, view about all things in life. It seems silly for me to be all adolescent-christmas-morning happy about food.

"I feel like food rules my life now," I said to one of my just-had-a-baby co-worker.
"Just wait, it's about to get worse." She laughed, without even looking up at me.

Now on to the less cheery subject. I was called a baby killer on facebook by a stranger on a mutual friend's page. Originally this entire blog was going to be about being called such a horrible thing, by a "Christian" no-less. But alas, I had such a great morning I couldn't create a whole negative, ranting, blog. It just didn't feel right. But, seriously, I do need to address this. I made a tweet about it so now I feel I need to do my full disclosure. 140 characters can be taken so wrong.

The great abortion debate. Even the word abortion feels funny, it creates grime on it's way out of my mouth as I speak it. It lingers in the back of ones mind at the thought of being pregnant. It's whispered about and spoken of in harsh tones. Rumors are started about unsuspecting females in middle and high schools, "She had an abortion." Abortion has the same negative connotation as intended by the individual that called me a baby killer. It's a medical term that has been twisted and disfigured by the ignorant and religious alike. Just as a racial slur, if you use the word the way the "enemy" does, it still holds that power. Just for the sake of this blog, I'd like to keep it as an unbias medical term.
 

Please and thank you.

Obviously I'm pro-choice. Me saying I'm pro-choice is what got me called a baby killer. Even as I sit here pregnant and my belly swelling by the day (or hour, geez) I am still very strong in my pro-choice stance. People, men especially are ignorant to the idea of how a pregnant lady can be pro-choice. Simple, I chose to stay pregnant, just as some of my friends have chose not to be. That doesn't make me any better than them or them any better than me. Different people, different situations, different decisions. I'd be just as mad if there were laws trying to be passed saying I couldn't have a kid and my only option was to abort. That is not allowing me a choice. O wow, I'm probably blowing some minds right now. A pro-choicer wouldn't stand for all pregnant women to be required to abort. Who would'a thought?! But seriously, why the fuck to pro-lifers believe that? What makes them think that? Who thought it would be great for humanity to pass the word that everyone that is pro-choice goes to a clinic once a week to abort a late term fetus. Idiots, that's who. Yes, I said it, IDIOTS. Okay, now I'm the one name calling... but it's to prove a point. 

Personally, I mean me, just me, Beth.... you know, the chick that is typing out these words right now. Exclusively me, I wouldn't get an abortion if I could help it. Honestly, there has been a couple pregnancy scares in my life that I would've cleaned out my bank account to fix the issue but as it stands right now, at twenty-five, with a loving significant other... I couldn't imagine myself going through that. Three years ago, we'd have a different discussion. Also, I've never been pregnant before now to make that choice before so that also leaves that gap of understanding that most people can't get past. I, on the other hand, have been friends with various people in various points in their lives. Yes, I have been very close with individuals that have had that nasty abortion thing that all these christians keep spewing lies about. To be honest, before I had known someone before they confessed this deep, dark secret of theirs I had my own igorance when it came to abortion. "No way, no how! Nu-uh. If you get pregnant it's meant to be! You need to carry that baby and just give it up for adoption!"

That short-sighted, ignorant and detrimental opinion was chipped away within the second my nervous best friend, at the time, from across the table said, "I've had an abortion before." My whole opinion quite literally folded in half and hid behind the nearest large object.

"Huh?" was all I could muster.

"Yeah, my mom actually paid for it. I was in college and wasn't practicing very healthy habits. Was into some bad stuff with a bad boy. You know, the usual... in with the bad crowd get in to deep before you realize how shitty it is?"

"Oh." I responded, still wanting her to continue the story.

"As soon as I found out I drove the couple hours it took to get to my parent's house and cried to my mom. My life was over, I wouldn't be able to finish college and that scumbag would be a part of my life, my family's life, for the rest of our lives. After some long conversation we all pulled some money together and as shitty as it sounds, I'm glad it happened. That baby didn't need him as a dad and at the time, I couldn't offer that baby much of anything and no one was really willing to help."

"Wow." I know I had that deer-in-headlights look.

"It's not something I boast about or anything, I mean, I don't go around and tell whoever. But yeah, I'm just glad I had that choice, ya know? Without that choice I'd probably would've just killed myself. I mean, I was super depressed and doing bad stuff and the guy I was with was cheating on me probably the same moment I took that damn test. I was super bad off, mentally-- I wouldn't have made a good decision on my own. I would've rather died than put up with that stress for the rest of my life."  

Don't judge my friend. She is one of many that has gone through similar things and kept it private because of the judging you just did in your head. I also hope I kept her story vague enough because it really is only her business. As she was telling me her story I played it out in my head, but instead of seeing her, I saw me in her scenerio. I kept trying to think, "Just keep the baby anyway," but for her in her situation, I could easily see why she made the decision she did. I'm not Zeus, I'm not God, I'm not Santa-- I can't decide who should be struck by lightening and who should get the pardon. Those types of decisions aren't meant for other people, they are only meant for those in those situations at that time. No one else.

With that same sentiment, I'm glad I'm able to keep my baby and no one is forcing me to give it up. I, also, am glad we live in a country that doesn't regulate births. I want females to have the same power they always have, simple as that. It's exactly like equalizing marriage. If you don't want to marry someone of the same sex, don't. If you don't want an abortion-- don't get one. Don't stop someone from doing something in their lives because it conflicts with your personal views about your life. There are a shit-ton of people on this earth. If you are so busy trying to control others you are going to lead a very unfulfilled life.

Definition of KILLER

1: one that kills

2: killer whale

3 a : one that has a forceful, violent, or striking impact

b : one that is extremely difficult to deal with

On a side note, I want to point out that I have never met a baby killer. I'm sure if I have I would have reported their dead body to the police after I killed them myself, in a bloody Psycho-style rage. The image I have in my head of a "baby killer" is some terrible ogre of a creature that makes his rounds at hospitals stabbing unsuspecting new borns as they sleep, or cry, or poop... as babies do. Just google "body of baby found." Those people, to me, are baby killers. Not someone who makes a personal decision in a clinic early in their first trimester. So tell me, which outcome do you feel more comfortable? Because let me tell you, if abortion is banned, there will be more dead babies in ditches, woods and dumpsters all around the states for those that couldn't handle it all. Not everyone is rational and responsible enough or can even afford an abortion as is is... and you want to live with making that harder for unhappy, out of their luck, mentally unhealthy expecting mothers?

Just think about that.

Trash Talk

This isn't about me being pregnant. Well, sort of, I'm sure my rage is coming from hormones. This is a rant. About... well, life. I was going to say work, because that's what sparked the idea for this blog but really it's life too.

Firstly, I want to rant about the trash at work. We work in three different stores. Each store is in a different Parish. But the location isn't what I'm complaining about, of course, as I previously mentioned the trash. I use to work at one location about four days out of my work week. Now I just work my weekends here. Saturdays mainly. All day. Which is okay, but every weekend is pissing me off... *clears throat* Okay, let me be pissed off about one thing before I go off on too many tangents. Okay. Trash. Stay focused, Beth! Trash.

Alright, well, last week I finally caught a sunday off and my boss took my shift. Well, that saturday when I worked before I remember noting the clusterfuck of boxes by the backdoor, on my way out. That sunday, my boss sent out a rather snarky group text to everyone to "take care of it." Which I found annoying, but that is basically how he handles most things so it's whatever. Well, here it is another Saturday and there is the original clusterfuck of boxes and addition of bags of trash thrown in on the boxes. Seriously? So, not only my boss sent out that snarky text he didn't bother to throw ANY of the trash out on his way out?! Even after he said, "It's twenty steps out the backdoor, it's not that hard." Umm, okay. If it's not that hard, why not grab a box or two on your way out? Really. Now, let me say this: I don't entirely blame him because there are numerous other employees that work at this location that could in fact, grab a box or two (if not all trash) on their way out. He also didn't ask me directly to throw it away, I took it upon myself because I didn't see it ever happening otherwise. It just burns me up.

So today, I took out the fucking trash. I took out the fucking trash. I'm going to say that again: I took out all of the fucking trash that I had nothing to do with. I didn't create it, I didn't leave it there, It happened while I was at another location. I took out someone else's trash at a place that I work. You know why? That is what being an adult is all about. Taking out the trash and for the most part, taking care of trash that we originally had nothing to do with. That is adulthood. Also, being proactive and not telling someone else to "take care of it" but, in fact, taking care of it yourself. I know it's no big deal, it's just trash. Not only that, it's trash I've taken care of. It's in the trash right now. I broke down the twenty boxes and stacked them up. I gathered the bags of trash that were piled on the boxes and walked outside, I opened the huge gate and threw everything away. It took me thirty minutes. It shouldn't have taken my thirty minutes. The trash shouldn't have accumulated to that extent. It's ridiculous but it's a done deal. That is thirty minutes of my life I will never get back because I work with lazy individuals.

Also, my fucking tooth is killing me. My face is swollen and I'm pretty sure I have the beginnings of a bruise where my tooth hurts. I have two more painful weeks before I can make a dentist appointment. It hurts to eat on that side. My allergies are running a muck. My nose is so dry, I have a painful sore in my nose too. I'm having trouble breathing. I'm scared to take anything. I also had a very bad scare at work. I had serious cramping, puking and bleeding at work. I left work early and while I was waiting for Hubby to get home I passed out in bed. When he got home he woke me up and we plotted how to make going to Urgent Care work without me being technically covered with insurance. He started the search for his Health Ins. card and I passed back out. When he found it, I guess it was harder to wake me up so he told me to just sleep. Sleep, I did. When I woke up it felt like I had been hit by a truck but no more bleeding and the cramps were gone. I also went to bed early that night and slept in the next day. Two more weeks and I can see a doctor. Two more weeks. Two more weeks. Two more weeks.

Two more weeks.

Bump Pictures

Maternity Pants

Pregnant Log
[Pregnant: Unofficially 11wks] Still haven't gone to the doctor yet, but I do have health insurance now!
[Mood Swings: Leveling out]
[Cravings: Parfaits, Chicken/Meat in general]

Let me say that again: I HAVE HEALTH INSURANCE! I haven't had health insurance since working at Chipotle... and even then I only went to the doctor once to get allergy medicine when it turned out I was very allergic to the non-allergetic gloves at work, the doctor prescribed to me $150 lotion in a 2oz bottle. Needless to say it's probably still collecting dust in that Greensboro CVS.

I now have eye and dental care, also. I need new glasses in a very serious way. I also want contacts with ever fiber of my being. I loathe wearing glasses. Glasses make my face look funny. I'm not a fan. My teeth need to be cleaned in a very, very serious way. I've never been so excited in my life to make doctors appointments. I feel like an elephant is no longer riding piggy back on my already weighed down frame.

Hubby and I were at work yesterday and he was talking about some new code we'll need for the new cash boxes they're installing at each location. I didn't know where to retrieve it so he went to a website (that no one had told me about) and set me up an account. The website also happened to have our benefit options, he decided to view my options. Apparently since I am a new employee I qualified for health benefits! So. Much. Excite. He printed off my little paper and the only not-so-good news is that I have to wait until October 1st before I can start making appointments. Even with that said, I'm elated at the idea of making a "Tell me I'm pregnant, Doc" appointment amongst my eyes and teeth.

Although, I told Hubby that he has to escort me to the dentist appointment because I am terrified of the dentist. I want to make our teeth cleaning appointment together so we can hold hands in the waiting room and then swap horror stories of the evaluation of our teeth after. Hopefully I can find a dentist around here that won't cost an arm and a leg AND doesn't get sadistic pleasure out of hurting their clientele.

On a pregnant note, I need a humidifyer. My throat is killing me from snoring and my nose keeps getting closed up because I get so dehydrated over night. Hubby woke me up the other night because I was snoring so heavily. My throat still hurts so I can only assume that I'm still snoring. Last night I slept very hard and I had insane dreams. My morning sickness has started to be much better which is concering but from what I read it's about that time. I still get nauseous throughout the day but it's not so terrible right when I wake up anymore. I've started playing Wii Sports because it gets my heart rate up and I maybe burn a few calories and have fun too. I facetime'd with my sister and my mom and I mentioned wanting Wii Fit because the the apartment gym makes me want to puke being in there. I feel like everything is filmy, the floor never gets swept and the machines never get wiped down. The Wii is fun and I can do it in my livingroom, without a bra, looking like a fool. Well, long story short my mom bought it for me! She's really been spoiling me. I'm wearing my first pair of maternity pants as I type this. I mainly wear them at work though because my work pants don't fit anymore. My regular pants are stretchy and mainly I wear dresses anyway so my waistline doesn't really affect that. Leggings are also becoming my friend, quickly. I'm hoping to cut up some of Hubby's oversized shirts to some kind of stylish preggo shirt and just wear leggings with boots. Also, I saw some pregnant celebrities rock that look and I figure it will be perfect for Louisiana winters.

I also will be getting my very first paycheck at the end of this month. I have so much shopping I would like to get done. I will have made in one paycheck more than I've ever had, total, in my checking or savings account at one time... ever. That is very exciting. Also, just my paycheck pays the bills so it will be exciting to have spending money again. Right now we have money I don't even know where is coming from. Hubby is a magic charm when it comes to money, we always seem to have enough money to eat and get gas with. I have no idea how he does it. He doesn't understand how I think that is enough. He constantly asks me if I'm happy and apologizes for not providing for me like he "should." But honestly, we have power, a very nice apartment, gas in our cars and I never go hungry. I couldn't ask for more. He thinks we're at the bare minimum when a lot of time in my life was spent only picking a choosing from those options instead of having them all and

  all at the same time.

TMI City

I feel like crap. crap. crap.

[Pregnant Log: Unofficially 9wks] Haven't gone to the doctor yet.
[Mood Swings: Off the charts]
[Cravings: Peanut butter & milkshakes/ice cream] Both together are perfect!

My morning sickness could only be worse if it accompanied puking. My nausea is unbareable. These last couple days have been the worst. My balance is completely gone. My balance was already terrible. Hubby laughs at how pathetic I am when he wakes me from the couch to move to bed after a long day of work. I walk sideways for a few seconds before I get my barrens just long enough to ease myself into bed. Laying on my stomach for five minutes already makes me feel sick for a solid thirty minutes. I can't even sleep on my side kind of positioned towards my stomach, I have to lay on my side, positioned towards my back.

Sometimes when I wake up and just lay in bed, I won't feel sick at all. Sometimes I even get maybe thirty minutes of feeling completely fine, walking around and then I feel super sick and want to lay down for the rest of my life.

Laying down is so heavenly. I never liked lounging around as much as I do now. Once my eyes open in the morning I like to be up and about and doing anything. Now, my eyes open and I try to lay in bed as long as possible before getting up. Today, I laid in bed for a solid hour and a half after waking up. I got up to use the bathroom and then laid back down. Laying down felt like a cool shower after being at the beach all day. Pure relief. For the most part, all I think about all day long is being back in my bed. Or snuggling up on the couch and having Hubby rub my back. Instant happiness.

Working isn't as much of a chore I make it out to be. When I'm at home getting ready for work I'm on the edge of tears not wanting to go in. Once I get to work I'm not so bad, work isn't so bad, the customers aren't all bad. Doing inventory is already posing some problems. Bending over makes me queasy, standing up from a squatted position makes me queasy and also, moving too quickly or a whole lot at once makes me dizzy and queasy. Why is it that no one mentioned to me how crappy this first trimester is? Last girl I was around during her first trimester she was puke-city but no real nausea. "I just get really hot and know I need to run to a bathroom." I remember her saying... I just feel really hot and queasy and nothing happens. I just sit there feeling like shit hoping it'd blow over shortly. The cramps. No one mentioned to me about the cramps. The cramps aren't unbareable like the nausea is but the cramps are sometimes very painful and take my breath away.

Everyone I know that has ever had a kid leaves out the poop issues. Well, I remember my sister expressing her anguish with her poops. I guess as an American it's also pretty taboo to openly discuss your bowel movements to Joan-Schmoe and Jane-Schmoe on the street. But honestly, ladies, if you ever get knocked up... your perfect bowel movements will be no more. I can't wait to get my normal poops back. I have never before been constipated or any variation of such. It's a whole new poop world for me now. From what I read "they" were not kidding about getting as much fiber as possible. Between my Pregnancy book, my Pregnancy App and my Hubby's sister I feel very educated on something I feel completely ignorant about. Most of the ladies I come across through work or otherwise have said, "Once I got the baby home I was lost, I had no idea what to do." Which is amazing for me because I feel 110% confidence about bringing an itty bitty baby home and even teaching Hubby some things about babies which I feel he is fully capable. We've even discussed that he will handle poopie diapers just like I will. I made it very clear that this parenting thing will be as close to the same amount as possible for as long as we're alive. I'm just at a loss about what to do while the baby is developing inside. I feel helpless and completely responsible all at the same time.

My boobs are getting bigger and my stomach definitly seems to be plumping up. I feel like I'm too big to be nine weeks though. Hubby and I both don't have any twins in our families. Not enough twins to take note of, anyway. He says his "super sperm" are more than capable but it's all up to the doctor visits to clear that up, I suppose.

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