Let's try this again!

Huzzah!  We are happy to report that we are now expecting again!

This isn't quite the timeline I was looking for - I wanted to wait a year since the miscarriage - but we'll take it!  I'm a ball of anxiety, but that is normal after a loss, so I am rolling with that too.

First indication of me being pregnant?  It was the day after Thanksgiving (November 23), and I was watching the X Factor Thanksgiving special on DVR and I was BAWLING.  Not just sniffling - ugly crying.  Poor Naomi was like "Mommy, are you ok?!"   It was super cute.

Side note - our number 23 is again making itself known.  We have discovered that major life events occur on the 23rd (Married - June 23.  Naomi - March 23.  Closed on the House - May 23.  Found out we were pregnant - November 23).  Weird, but something we have been keeping track of.

We had a bit of a scare during Week 5 (which is when our miscarriage happened in May) with low progesterone and cramping.  Got blood work done, and HCG was in the 1200s, Progesterone was 8.2.

Now, for you all playing the home game, you want HCG levels to double in 48 hours, and progesterone to be around 20 at 5 weeks.  If progesterone gets to 7 or below, it triggers a period, and game over for le pregnancy.  Of course, I began to panic, and the doc immediately put me on progesterone supplements.  48 hours later, HCG was in the 2900s and progesterone was at 43.1.  Huzzah again!

We're due in July, which means I won't be using any of my previous maternity clothes (because they were for October - March, and I am not to the point of needing them yet).  I may get some use, but not as much as I want to.  Boo.  It's also going to be hot as balls, so I am going to be staying inside for the most part.  Fingers crossed that bed rest and pre-eclampsia don't rear it's ugly head.

It's still somewhat early (still in the first trimester), but the doctor said that there is a less than 5% chance of there being a problem because of the strong heartbeat and current growth.  He thinks that the miscarriage in May was caused by low progesterone, so him catching it this time around saved the pregnancy.  I am very grateful to him, because many docs do not check progesterone (just HCG).  I lurve him.

We decided that although we are still in the first trimester we would still announce it after we heard the heartbeat (which we did on December 17).  Even if the worst happens, it's not something that I am against talking about.  What does irritate me, though, is that some think that miscarriage is contagious and don't want to talk.  I don't mean not want to talk about the miscarriage, I mean talk to me.  It's actually pretty sad, and I'm sorry that my loss affects them so much, but that isn't going to stop me from talking about it.  It is sadly such a taboo topic when it shouldn't be - and I will continue to be an advocate for those who have experienced losses.  If this is bothersome to you - to hear about the anxiety and emotion that go with it - then perhaps this is not the blog for you.  I won't talk about it all of the time, but it is a part of my life, and I refuse to be quiet about it, k?

Naomi is very excited, and has asked for a "brudder".  We'll have more of an idea on gender in February, but let's be honest, it's not 100% until le child falls out.

So, huzzah indeed, we are very excited!  I am trying to rest more than I usually would, and Michael has been great with taking more responsibility.  He's a great partner in this journey of life.  (Cough gag cough)

 

1 year!

I am happy to report that I have been officially not pregnant for the past year - some may see that as ::gasp:: rude, but for me, pregnancy was hell on earth. 

The outcome, however, was totally worth it.  Naomi is now 1, and is cute, funny, stubborn, entertaining, and loving.  She loves bath time, can now say "Dah" (dog), likes to feed the "Dah", and loves music.  Although we wish we could have been with our extended family, but we had a nice little party for her here in Vegas.  :-)  She's pretty great.

But I still hated being pregnant.  Just in case anyone forgot. 

Will post pictures soon!  I'm ending this blog post so I can start another one.  That's how I roll.

Well, today was supposed to be my due date…but obviously Naomi had different ideas! I am happy to no longer be pregnant.

On the other hand, I miss being pregnant. I know, that’s messed up, considering how much “fun” I had during pregnancy. But there is something to be said about the closeness between a mother and her child during those 9 months. I really, really never thought that I would feel this way – I still touch my stomach, thinking she’s still in there. I know, weird.

Something else really weird – I actually had a good time during labor, as crazy and as hard as it was. It actually went the way I wanted to (unmedicated, having a good time with Michael, etc) – however, I would have left out all the bellowing and the almost having her in the car thing. Those are just things that make it interesting.

Naomi is absolutely amazing!! We find new things about her every day and night. The first two nights were a little rough, but it seems like we are starting to find a groove. She’s crying a little bit more, but she still squeaks a whole lot. She likes to be held, and tends to wake up every time I try to put her in her crib – which makes nights a little rough, but she’s used to being inside me, all warm and snuggly – so of course she is going to wake up. She likes to be swaddled – everything but her arms, of course. She gained 3 oz. and grew 1 inch in 3 days – so I’m sure she isn’t going to be small for much longer!

All the remains of the jaundice that they found in Naomi is now gone, according to the pediatrician, which is wonderful news! He said that she probably didn’t have to be in the NICU after birth, but that the hospital probably just wanted to be careful with her.

Nights have been long, but Grandmar and Grandpa Stepp are in town until Friday, and while Grandpa is working from “home”(aka hotel room), Grandmar comes over around 7:30 a.m. to watch Nomes so I can get some sleep. It’s been a god-send, because nights are a lot of up-and-down and holding. I’ve been getting a little more sleep overnight, but not a lot. Naomi, though – she gets LOTS of sleep, and I guess that’s what counts.

Grandma Hullinger is coming on the 7th, and we are so excited to have her! By that time, I’ll have a few days with Naomi alone while Michael is at work, and doing “night duty”, so it will be nice to have some help again. She gets to stay until the 14th, so that’s good! We wish Grandpa Hullinger and Uncle Matthew were coming too, but she’ll have to wait to meet them.

And, I must say, I started writing this blog 3 days ago, but am finally able to finish it at 3 a.m. while Naomi is sleeping on my chest. I know, I’m a champion multi-tasker.

The Dramatic Arrival!

Thank you to ALL for your support and thoughts for Naomi! Naomi was born at 4:38 a.m. on 3/23/10, weighing 7 lbs, 1 oz, and measuring 19 inches long! She was smaller than we all expected, which I’ll probably be addressing later in the blog.

In true blue Megan fashion, the story of the birth is a little dramatic. Michael and I are still looking at each other, saying “I still can’t believe that freaking happened”. I will try to do the story justice, as many of you reading this are across the country, and I can’t tell you in person. Just try to imagine me saying it out loud to you over some Starbucks.

It’s Sunday, 3/21/10, the first day of Spring. Or first full day. Whatever, that’s not important. I woke up feeling “weird”, as I put it that day. I was starving, then nauseous, and just really tired. I actually slept really well on Saturday night, which was great, so I wasn’t quite sure why I was so tired (other than being 39 weeks pregnant – that’s 1 week shy of my due date at 40 weeks, which was March 28). Maybe it was the late night Michael and I had on Friday, 3/19 – we went to a choir concert for the Las Vegas Master Singers, then went to the Imperial Palace Karaoke Club for our friends’ birthdays. I may or may not have gotten my butt on stage with 3 friends and “sang” (badly) Wannabe by the Spice Girls. It was interesting to be singing with a boa 9 months pregnant. I think that is what brought on labor!

ANYWAY, back on topic. Sunday, I wasn’t feeling the greatest, and I was a little irritable. I haven’t cried much in pregnancy, but Michael and I were watching TV, and he got a phone call from his parents, and I just burst into tears for no real reason. I left a message on the phone for my sister, and Michael got off the phone and hugged me for a little while. He knew I didn’t feel well, so he started a bath for me, made me some tea, and tucked me into bed.

Timeout – I would like to say now that I have the most.amazing.husband.ever. He is the reason that I was able to get through this process, he was patient, kind, and just – amazing. Rock star. I just wanted to get that out there.

Ok, time back in. My sister called me back, and we talked for about an hour, she made me laugh a lot, and it made me feel loads better. I played around online from my bed after that.

I’ve had “practice contractions” (Braxton Hicks) increasing over the last 4 days, so I was used to the tightening of all of my muscles, and it just was natural. Well, around 6 p.m., I had a much different type of contraction – I can’t really describe it, especially those early ones. All I know is that I knew in my mind that it was different, and I had to get up and walk around. It still didn’t go away until about 1 minute, so when I had another one 30 minutes later, I thought “Hmmmm….”

I tend to over analyze things (I KNOW, you are shocked), so I was trying to not put too much thought into this process. I decided that I would see if the contractions had a pattern, and if they woke me up at night. There was only a slight “pattern” (at that point, they were about 20 minutes apart, lasting 1 min 30 seconds on average), but they did wake me up at night. I woke up almost every time kind of moaning – it freaked our dog out, LOL.

Around 3 a.m., they were about 12-15 minutes apart – still not a definite pattern, so I knew I was probably in early labor, but I think I was in denial. I was SURE it was just false labor, and I was going to end up looking like an idiot. Again, I over-analyze!

I woke Michael up and told him what was happening, and the look on his face was priceless. There is nothing like looking at the face of your partner when you say “Hey dude, I think your daughter is preparing to move out of my uterus”. It makes me smile thinking about those quiet hours of Monday morning – finally packing our hospital bags (yeah, last minute, LOL), laughing about life, and spending some time together. (And, now I am tearing up. I still have some hormones up in here)

So, around 4 or 4:30, I called my parents. They were coming out for the birth, and if this was pre-labor, I wanted them to be able to have time to come out. I called my Mom first, and although it was early, she was on full alert – Grandmar (yep, it’s Grandmar – her name is Marlene – awww, clever!) and Grandpa have been chomping at the bit to hope on a plane, and it was now time! I got a hold of Dad, and he was in total plan mode. It made me smile – they were so excited to come meet their granddaughter!

Michael called his parents too, and although they aren’t coming out for another few weeks, they were super excited and told us to keep them updated through the process. Grandma and Grandpa Hullinger are super excited for their first grandchild, and we wanted to keep them as updated as possible. We couldn’t believe this was happening!

So, Sunday night into Monday, I got a total of 45 minutes of sleep. I tried really, really hard to sleep, but contractions that are 1 min 30 seconds total every 12 minutes and getting stronger kind of get in the way of that whole sleep thing. Michael got about 4 hours, but went ahead and called off work Monday in case that this was ACTUALLY it (I was still in denial – I didn’t want to get too excited!)

We called our doula Sarah around 7:30 a.m. to tell her what was going on. I’ll just refer to her as Sarah from now on, because it’s easier. She was excited for us, and told us to drink lots of water, take some walks, keep eating, and let her know when it was getting hard to get through the contractions, and when there was a pattern. At that point, we were about 10-12 minutes apart – it kept going back and forth, so it wasn’t quite a “pattern” yet.

We get our dog Roxie prepped for her little vacation to the PetSmart Hotel – she is staying with them during this process so we don’t have to worry about her, and she gets to play with other dogs. I wanted Buffalo Wild Wings really bad that morning (for those of you who saw my Facebook status at 4:45 in the morning, LOL), so Michael went to drop her off and pick up some wings for me while I laid in bed. I was getting really tired (remember, only 45 minutes of sleep at that point).
I ate my BWW, hoping that the spicy-ness of the Parmesan Garlic wings would help speed up the process (for those of you who don’t know, there are lots of “natural” ways to help speed up labor – spicy foods, walking, sex, etc. I was too tired for the latter two, so spicy foods was the winner – and YES, the Parmesan Garlic wings is SPICY to me, don’t judge it.)

Halfway into eating them, I started to feel nauseous, so we put the left over wings in the fridge (which, I am really looking forward to eating when I get home). I started to feel contractions a little more consistently by this point, but we were still about 9 minutes apart.

At this point, I can tell you a little more about the contractions. I knew by this point that this was probably the real thing, and for me, the contractions felt like I needed to take a never-ending poop. And, since I am honest about everything, I don’t feel weird telling you that nature has a way of getting the body ready for birth, as the days leading up to birth is like a natural enema. Yeah, that could be TMI, but eh, get over it.

So, anyway, I knew that I didn’t need to poo, but it sure did feel like it. And I peed a lot during each contraction – so I knew that my body was really prepping at this point. Contractions were getting a little tougher to get through, so we called Sarah, and she arrived at our apartment around 3:30 p.m.

Timeout – I would also like to say that having a doula during this process was a god-send – when the contractions were getting to be too much, she had a whole arsenal of things to help calm me down. For those of you who didn’t know, Michael and I decided to do an unmedicated childbirth, for a number of reasons. Because of this, we decided to labor at home as long as possible, hoping to arrive at the hospital around 6-7 cm instead of the usual 4 cm. I knew that I would probably elect to have an epidural if we went too early, and I didn’t want that. Sarah’s job was to keep me calm, provide emotional support, help me get through the contractions naturally, and check my dilation periodically/time contractions to find a pattern so we knew when to go to the hospital. I would also like to point out that there are usually no “textbook” births, so what happened to us isn’t really all that weird. Well, maybe a little. So, anyway, since we wanted an unmedicated childbirth, I KNEW I would say “I can’t do it” at one point or another, so Michael and I came up with the code word “dolphin”, which I would say if I had hit my wall and I meant “Give me the drugs or I will stick my fist down your throat”. Don’t ask where we came up with the word, because we don’t know where it came from, LOL.

Ok, time back in. I STILL didn’t have a pattern for my contractions, and Sarah knew that it was probably because I was tired, excited, and having strong contractions every 8-10 minutes at this point. She gave my hands, arms, and legs a massage with lavender aromatherapy (my favorite scent for sure), which helped relax me, and had a really small glass of wine (yes, it is ok, don’t freak out people).

Sarah and Michael were talking as I drifted in and out of sleep on the couch, while trying to concentrate on the larger contractions. I found that some were much, much harder to deal with then the other smaller contractions, which made me tense up. Tensing up during contractions can make them hurt worse, and can stop up the dilation/progression process, so we wanted to keep me relaxed.

We went outside and walked, which was rough during the stronger contractions, but felt great during the in-between. We came back inside, and Sarah insisted on getting me something to eat. Out of habit, I said “I don’t really feel like cooking”, which got a laugh out of Sarah and Michael. Michael went out and got Chipotle, because it was fast, and rice/beans have good complex carbs, and the steak had good protein. I figured it was better than a burger, which has pretty much zero nutritional value.

While Michael was out doing that, Sarah and I just talked, and I tried to talk through some of the contractions. They were getting much, much stronger, and I was already feeling somewhat nauseous. I pretty much knew that I was going to end up vomiting up my dinner (which I did, lol), so I didn’t eat all that much. But, surprisingly, it was good to actually throw something up, because throwing up bile sucks (reminds me of my first 18 weeks of pregnancy!). Anyway, Sarah said that if she had to guess, I was probably 4 cm dilated already, which was great progress. We already knew that Naomi’s head was in the right place, and really low, so that was great.

After the vomiting incident, I felt better, so I got on my birth ball to move/bounce through the contractions, which were getting long. Sarah started to time them, and although there was STILL no pattern (there usually is by this point), each contraction was at least 2 minutes long. Two minutes!! That’s a really long time for a contraction. So, since all the textbooks say that “real” labor has a pattern of contractions (consistently timed apart) and they are 1 min 15-1 min 30 sec, I was still considered to be in “pre” labor.

Now, by this point, no positions are helping my contractions, and I’m having a harder time getting through them, so Michael and Sarah would rub my hands during the contractions. Touching someone else (like on the hands) is soothing, and creates endorphins, which help the contractions become regular, be less intense, and helps labor. I had to have “focal” points during the contractions so I could concentrate on something else, so during contractions I talked about how Michael and I met, etc. He was my source of endorphins.

It was important to me to have a positive birth experience, so I actually was cracking jokes most of the time, which is just like me – have these pains that make me want to drop to my knees, pull out my hair, and scream so all humanity could hear me, but still be cracking jokes.

So, 11 p.m. rolls around, and contractions are stuck between 5-7 minutes apart, but each lasting 2 minutes long – leaving very little time to rest. However, Sarah said I HAD to rest, or it would prolong labor. The thought of prolonging my labor made me want to stick my face in acid, so they gave me another massage with aroma therapy and Michael rubbed my back. Sarah also officially check my dilation, and sure enough, at 11:30 p.m. on 3/22, I was 4 cm. This is important later in the story, so remember that.

Sarah said that she was going to head home, because I wasn’t really progressing all that much, but if my water broke, or if contractions were coming closer together, call her and she would come back over. I was trying to breathe through contractions at this point, but I heard her say to Michael “Call me right away if her water breaks – it could go quickly after that”.

So I tried to rest through the contractions, still each 2 minutes apiece. Again, that’s a long freaking time, friends. I actually got about 45 minutes of sleep during this part, on and off, which saved me later, for sure.

But one contraction was so painful it woke me up, shot me out of bed, and I loudly went “UHHHHHHHH” in the middle of our bathroom. I had been able to just moan “regularly” (whatever the hell that means) during the contractions, but this was something different. Michael asked “Are you alright?”, to which I promptly said, “Does it effing look like I’m alright?” (poor guy). I had to pee during the contraction, then plop, my mucus plug came out (I KNOW, TMI, but it’s important to the story). This means I was dilating past a 4, so hooray!

Well, NOT so hooray, because then contractions started to come consistently – every 4-5 minutes, 2 MINUTES EACH. WTF. So, contraction would start, 2 minutes of hell, then rest for 2-3 minutes, then start again. Michael called Sarah, even though there really still wasn’t a complete pattern. We timed them over the phone with her, during one I yelled “FUCKING DOLPHIN!!” which I immediately took back after the contraction was done – but it was getting REALLY tough to get through them.

Sarah arrived at our apartment at 2:45 a.m., and I was laboring in the bathtub. Ladies, if you have children, get through the contractions in water – they were easier to breathe through, and it was relaxing – well, as relaxing as they could be at that point. In my 2-3 minutes of down time, I would pass out sitting up, then wake up with a start for my 2 MINUTE CONTRACTION (I’m still shocked on how long they lasted).

Sarah had me get out of the tub, and had me go over to my birth ball so I could sit on the ball and lay over the bed to try to get rest between contractions. During my second contraction on the ball, I said “I HAVE to stand up”, and stood up, walked 2 steps, and SNAP. Water broken all over the floor. I still don’t know if I got it on the towel or my newly cleaned carpet. We’ll worry about that later, I guess.

Without hesitation, and completely calmly, I said “Hmm, my water broke”. Less than 15 seconds later, the most intense pain I have ever felt, EVER, came over me and I ran over to the toilet. My loud moans and “ahh! Ahhh! Ahhh!” alerted Sarah that this was no ordinary contraction. She said “Megan, do you have the urge to push?!” and I said “Yyyyyeeeeeesss!!”.

Her head whipped to Michael, and calmly said “You need to get the car right now, we have to get to the hospital immediately”.

All I remember of the next 5 minutes is Michael running around, out of breath, with a look of fear in his eyes. I only had a bra on at this point (I was sweating soooooo bad), so they threw a robe on me, sans anything but my bra. As Michael came back in the room, I calmly said, “Michael, can you grab those clothes for me? I’ll need them later”. For some reason, I was extremely calm. Really calm. And really able to handle what was happening. It was weird (and didn’t last, LOL).

We’re on our way out the door, and Sarah says to me, “Megan, whatever you do, DO NOT push. Just don’t, you can do it”. I then hear her tell Michael that if we need to, pull over, and we’ll “evaluate the situation”. That didn’t register with me until later.

And here is the kicker – we live 30-35 minutes from the hospital we were delivering at (I wanted the best for our care). Well, Michael is flying on 95/515 to get our booties to Summerlin. I was really calm through the whole thing, until we got to the Spaghetti Bowl, where the bumps in the road are horrible. Taking those at 85 mph was not fun – and it was not helping me trying not to push.

We get to the hospital, and I am able to walk into the ER (those are the only doors open). It’s 3:45 a.m., and they can’t find me a wheelchair. They took their sweet time, and I am just in a daze because I NEED TO PUSH. Finally I said “I NEED A WHEELCHAIR”, they found one, and we went to Labor and Delivery.

We get up there, and although I was pre-registered, they made Michael fill out some paperwork before triage. This part only took a minute, but I was trying to not give in to the need to push. I stare at these 2 nurses that just give me the look of “I am sure you have hours left, lady”. I’ll say biotch nurse to refer to the one that took me into triage.

Biotch nurse says, in her biotchy way, “I have to check to see if you actually ruptured your membranes” (aka water broke). At this point, Michael ran back downstairs to move the car, so it was just me and Sarah (and biotch nurse). At this point, I let out a bellowing wail. Not a girly scream, not an “Oooo, that hurts”, a bellowing “uhhhhhHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA”. The poor other people in triage must have been scared, lol.

Biotch nurse checked me, quickly said, “Room 41, now”. I hopped (ok, kind of rolled like a beached whale) off of the table, and back into the wheelchair. Biotch nurse was suddenly very nice and soothing. Looking back at it, that should have been my first clue!

I get into the room, and suddenly there are 5 nurses in the room, running around. Sarah told me to keep my eyes on her, and DON’T PUSH. Michael was back and rubbing my back. I heard the biotch nurse say “Her doctor will be here in 20 minutes”.

I bellowed “uuuhhHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA” again – I needed to PUSH, why wouldn’t they let me push?!?! I’m griping the side of the bed like it would save my life. During this, they are trying to admit me – asking me questions about allergies, prior health stuff, and I’m just looking at the lady trying to formulate words. She tried to get me to sign something, and another nurse was like “We HAVE to do that LATER!!”. IV’s went in, and monitors went on – they were trying to figure out here heart rate, and they kept pushing my abdomen, which really effing hurt. A LOT. I bellowed some more. I squeezed my legs shut so tight, and was grunting. All the nurses were like “Don’t grunt, Megan, don’t grunt!” and “Breathe deeply, you can’t push yet!!”

I remember the nurses talking quickly, and quietly, and some of them saying “We can deliver, but her doctor wants to be here” (or maybe said needs to be here, I can’t remember, I was a little preoccupied.)

Michael’s voice was steady the whole time – “You can do it, Megan”, “I love you”, “You are doing great”, “You are amazing”. Looking back at it now, he must have been freaking out more than a little bit. He was behind me, Sarah was in front of me, so I was staring into Sarah’s eyes.

I don’t remember what all I said during the 20-25 minutes I waited to push – but I remember thinking “be nice to the nurses!!” and “Don’t drop the f bomb!” I also was trying really hard to stop bellowing (people, it was loud), because I knew that I was probably freaking the other mothers on the floor out. I apologized to the nurses for being so loud, and one said “Hun, the rest are quiet because they all have epidurals”. I do remember saying things like “HOLY SHIT”, “Shoot me in the face”, and “God kill me now”. I didn’t cry, because it just wasn’t like that. It was like my body was revolting – I started to push a little bit, then had the hands of 4 people trying to calm me down so I would stop pushing. I bellowed a lot more.

My doctor flew in the door and they quickly got him into scrubs and my legs up on the stirrup things. I thought dazedly that I wanted to give birth laying on my side (helps the baby descend into the pelvis), but then stopped giving a shit. I started to push – then I heard the doctor say “Megan, you have to stop!”.

I stopped, and bellowed some more. It went against all forces of nature to stop pushing – and by this point, I’ve been “not pushing” for over an hour. No wonder I was bellowing. She was coming, whether we liked it or not!

Finally, he let me push. 5 pushes, people, and she was out. Between the time the doctor came in the door and the moment Naomi was born, it was about 10-12 minutes, no joke. When she was coming out, the doctor told me to slow down, so I wouldn’t tear. I didn’t care. (For the record, I got a 2nd degree tear, which I am paying for now, but I honestly didn’t give a shit.) It felt SO weird – it is so hard to describe – but I knew she was on her way out. Someone said “Megan, look, she’s on her way out”, to which I responded “uhhhhAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAH!”.

So, next thing I know, this beautiful face was on my chest. It wasn’t as gross as I thought it would be, to be honest. Her eyes were closed, and she wasn’t crying yet, but she was wiggling around, so I knew she would be ok. I was just in awe – I had so much energy – and I just had a little girl! She was smaller than I thought she was going to be. Although she was a little purple (I DID just push her through my birth canal), she was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I didn’t cry, though – I thought I would – but I think that I was just mentally and physically in shock.

Usually, they let the baby stay on the mom’s chest during this, however, they let her stay a minute, then had to take her away. Apparently, she thought it would be fabulous to eat some of her poop while in utero – they figured it out because I had mycosis in my amniotic fluid. They had to make sure it wasn’t in her lungs, etc.

But, she was great! They give babies a “score” after birth, and she got a perfect score. Michael stayed with her (we were in the same room, but he stayed right beside her). He got to feed her first meal, got some great skin-to-skin and eye contact, and had some daddy-daughter bonding time. I realized later that in my daze, he began to cry when she was born. Yep, he’s the greatest man I’ve ever known.

It took the doctor longer to stitch me up and all of the “third” stage of labor (I won’t get into details) 3 times longer than it did to actually deliver Naomi, no joke. At that point, they offered me pain meds, which I absolutely took. Hey man, she was out, it couldn’t hurt her, and my body was shaking so badly! I proceeded to apologize to everyone for being so loud – and they all said that I actually did really, really well.

I found out that I was fully in “transition” when I walked into the hospital, and when biotch nurse checked me, I was 9.5 cm dilated, and was 10 cm by the time I got to the delivery room. Had I pushed, Naomi would have crowned, and she would have basically flopped out. There was literally no time – I was really holding her in. That’s why it was so painful – I was going against the laws of nature for a full hour and a half. No wonder.

Biotch nurse even ended up apologizing to me – she assumed that I was a mother who was 1 cm dilated, and just wanted the epidural early. That’s how calm I was when they first got me into triage – she thought I was 1 cm dilated – until she looked (and until I started bellowing).

Michael says it was an interesting and unique experience, but it warms the heart. He also said that it really bothered him to see me in that much pain, and that it scared him – he said that he never wants to see me in that much pain again. He says that witnessing her birth is one of the most amazing moments of his life.

So, in all technicality, I was in “pre-labor” for about 30 hours, and in “actual labor” for, oh, less than 3 hours. The speed of the delivery is unusual for first time moms – but when have I ever done anything by the book? And let’s be honest, I think that Naomi will do things when Naomi wants to do things (sounds like someone I know). My contractions stayed 2 minutes long throughout the whole process as well – which is also unusual. And, had I pushed, I would have had Naomi in our Kia Optima. Good thing Michael didn’t know how close I was to doing that on the way to the hospital, or he would have freaked out, LOL. I was at the hospital less than an hour before she arrived, and they had to take all my admission paperwork, blood, and urine work AFTER she was born. Oops. But, in the end, we got our wishes for an unmedicated, natural childbirth. Since Saturday Night/Sunday morning, I had a total of about 2 hours of sleep between then and Tuesday night. I didn’t even nap yesterday, because every time I tried, I got poked and prodded by someone, LOL.

All in all, it was a pretty good experience. It hurt like hell, and it took a toll mentally AND physically, but it was all worth it. 100% worth it.

Naomi is just awesome. She hates it when her feet are touched. She has her daddy’s big toe. Her fingers are really, really long. She looks a whole lot like her daddy. Her eyes are gorgeous. She calms down when I begin to talk to her. She’s just…amazing.

Bad news came down last night, though – she’s jaundiced, so she now has to be in the NICU under lights to bring it down until maybe tomorrow (Thursday). Basically, my O+ blood is attacking her A+ blood cells, which isn’t good. However, it’s a common condition, so all this is preventative measures – let’s hope it stays that way. I’m going to try to stay in the hospital with her, so it doesn’t look like we are getting out until tomorrow. We went to see her in the NICU last night, and I just burst into tears. Michael told me to think of it like she was out getting a tan, but I hate that my daughter is in there by herself. I want to be there to soothe her when she needs it. Last night was the first night we haven’t been in the same room for about 10 months. I felt like my friend left me, and I wasn’t there for my friend. The feelings and emotions that I have for her are so new – it’s so hard to explain.

I’m just so consumed by the utter love and adoration I have for this little girl. Our daughter. I never thought I would love someone so much. Motherhood is already the most amazing thing.

So, that’s the story. I almost had my kid in the car, LOL. I’ll keep the blog updated with pictures and videos, and here are some Michael took yesterday – we’ll get some other ones up as soon as we have more!!

Naomi looks beautiful...Mommy, not so much. It was a long day!!

Naomi's first meal and skin-to-skin contact with Daddy

What up, g?

Naomi Marie, 7 lbs 1 oz, 19 inches long

Woot for updates!

It's been awhile - my bad! :) This entry may not be humorous, sassy, or anything of the like, but maybe just an update. We'll see.

Anywho, I'm a little over 34 weeks, so that means about 5.5 weeks before my "official" due date. I think Ms. Thang is going to arrive on April 1 or 2 (specifically, go into labor on April 1, and her arrival on April 2), be about 7.5 or 8 lbs, and be 21" long (she'll have her daddy's length). I think she'll arrive at 3 a.m.

Daddy thinks she'll get here March 17, 11 a.m., 8.5 lbs, 19" long. I think he's wrong - that's early for a first time mom to give birth (but "at term" all the same). The winner gets bragging rights. Place your bets, my friends.

We've decided to give birth unmedicated, which means no induction (unless medically necessary) and no epidural regardless. Unfortunately, I am not able to receive most medications used in an epidural due to drug interactions, and to be honest, I don't really want it anyway. I would rather not put more medications in her than absolutely necessary.

Now, lots of people don't understand our reasoning to have an unmedicated birth. That's ok, it's not for everyone, and some people have no choice but to have an epidural. Who the heck am I to tell you what you should or should not do? For us, this is our best option. However, what DOES make me mad is the "oh, you don't know how much it will hurt, and you will scream for those meds". No, I won't, but thanks for having faith in me. I will not give her meds that aren't necessary, period. We didn't come to the decision easily, and we are using a birthing approach that I can really connect with.

I made fun of the approach we are using a LOT as we began to use it, but I've ended up loving it a lot. For those of you who know me, I enjoy holistic approaches to life (meditation, hypnosis, spiritual connection to nature, etc). I've done self hypnosis since college, and I believe that it is something that really helped me quit smoking. Anyway, it's something that I know and respect.

So there is this program called Hypnobabies; my sister used it during her birthing processes, and liked it a lot. She was nice enough to send it to me, and as Michael and I were starting, I nick-named it Hippie-babies, because it is very holistic and meditation/hypnosis based. It made me laugh.

But, as we've been going through the program, I've just fallen in love. I've had lots of problems with pelvic and back pain throughout the pregnancy, but through the month of January and the early part of February required me to use a cane in order to walk. It stunk, and it started to hit me mentally because I felt like I lost my independence. The techniques taught through Hypnobabies has really, really helped with pain management, and anxiety of becoming a parent. Again, not for everyone, but something that has really worked for us. I look forward to using the techniques during birth. I'm sure I'll still have some colorful language, so never fear. The sass will still come out!

We were lucky enough to hire a Doula to help us through the process. What is a doula, you may ask? Basically, it's someone who is a trained and experienced professional who provides continuous physical, emotional, and informational support during birth. She'll help us labor at home as long as possible, go with us to the hospital, and help us into good positions during the birth. Also, she'll help explain any interventions that the hospital staff tries to give us (i.e. offering drugs, indicating that I'll need "help along" when I really don't, etc). She's already helped calm my fears about my increasing blood pressure (which can be a bad thing), and will meet with us after Naomi gets here to help us with questions, etc. She's awesome, and it'll help keep me focused.

I am ready for her to be here! I'm ready mentally, physically, and the apartment...well, maybe not so much ready, but that's what I can do when I go on maternity leave, which starts March 1. YAY!! That will give me a few weeks to wash all of her clothes, keep the house clean, etc. because after March 7, she can really come and be "at term". Holler.

It's so cool feeling her move around these days, but SO WEIRD. She's like a little alien. Her butt was in my ribcage at one point, and I saw the little bump move. I was like WHHHHHAAAAT is THAT?! Duh, it's my daughters butt. Now when it's up there, I pat it and say "What's up?". I talk to her a lot, so she knows who I am. Michael talks to her too, which is neat (though he thinks it's a little weird).

She just makes me laugh already. I wonder sometimes if our brains are connected while she's using my bladder as a toy and my cervix as a trampoline. Does she hear what I am thinking? Does she know when I'm thinking about her with lots of love? Lots of times I start smiling about her randomly, and her butt moves again, and it makes me giggle. Who knew that despite all of the uncomforts, scary moments, and hit-the-wall "I'm done" syndrome, I could still love her so much before she even gets here?

Michael and I have talked about what we think she'll look like. I think she'll have Michael's eyes, but my facial features. I forgot what he thinks, because I forget pretty much everything. Personality-wise, I think that she'll have a quick wit and a sassy tongue (so, maybe a little like me), but have a huge heart and laid back (a lot like Michael). She'll be a great mix between us both. Again, I forget what Michael thinks, but I think he said that she is going to be just like me. I'm not totally sure if that's a good or a bad thing, OR how I am going to be able to handle that.

Being a parent scares me. I don't know how to do it. I don't want to be too protective, yet not too "do what you want". I want her to be independent, yet supportive. I want to allow her to make decisions for herself, but maybe help guide her in those decisions (asking what she wants for dinner - which will probably be followed by "pizza!" - but maybe offering her choices). I want to utilize things like technology to help her learn, but I want her to be able to get her creative juices flowing by using a box and turning it into a spaceship. Or a boat. And using clothes to help her imagine herself in far off places. I want her to have the same experience with movies as I did - the Wizard of Oz for example. I had that WHOLE thing memorized, and I would act out the entire movie in our living room. I want that experience for her.

There's just a lot that I want for her, and a lot that Michael wants for her. And then my controlling, "planning" part of me wants to sit down with Michael and create a parenting plan. Which will go out the freaking window. Ach, it's just so exciting and terrifying all at the same time. Does everyone feel this way, or is it just me?

I think my sass button is broken today, because I just feel all sorts of sentimental. What the heck?! I'm sure the sass will come back eventually. I should start writing down my witty statements and just come on here and write them down.

But yep, pretty lame today. I'm about due for a ranging post, so stay tuned.

(And Naomi says hi, because she just kicked me in the ribs and moved her booty. Maybe she has a song in her head)

Havin' a hard time.

I'm having a bit of a hard day today, and needed to vocalize it.

I understand that pregnancy makes women more emotional, and that my own underlying conditions can make things a little worse. I'm good for the most part, so I don't want people to freak out or anything - I'm keeping things in check.

But I find that the blues are sneaking in lately, and I can't say that I enjoy that. When really digging deep to try to figure out what it is, there are some shining possibilities. The job situation isn't awesome, but I have a job - so that's not it. I'm excited that we're having a child - so that's not it. We have a great place to live, Michael has a job again, and we're getting back on our feet financially - so those things aren't it either.

After working through all of these things in my head, I am still feeling blue, depressed, down, what have you, and I think that I finally figured out why the heck I am just out of it. It's the fact that physically, I can't do anything. Walking to a different room can be painful, let alone from the parking garage to my desk, or from my office to a meeting in the Student Union. Stairs are now like vices of terror, and I 100% dread having to go down them.

I guess I haven't really updated the blog on recent issues, so maybe I should do that really quick. I've have back pain and pelvic pressure that has been getting progressively worse over the past 6-7 weeks. It can be difficult to walk at times (my right lower back and leg often get numb and decide to be funny about functioning correctly), I can't get up from a seat or bed without needing help from my husband, and forget about turning over in the middle of the night - it can induce tears.

I've done what I can at this point - I've done pelvic exercises; pregnancy yoga makes me cry; warm baths; a pregnancy belt to help support my back; weekly chiropractic appointments; I'm even working with my boss to work some days from home so I don't have to go up and down stairs, sit in my super uncomfortable chair at work, etc. I saw my doctor last week, and as supportive as he's been, he has said that I may need to stop working in order to rest to get better.

I guess that brings me to the real issue; I'm already having career identity issues for a number of reasons, none of which are within my control. One thing that I have, the one thing I was able to work on, the one thing that I still had some control over, is this coming January. It's four days of walking around campus, setting up tents, moving boxes, and standing and meeting with students on the sidewalks of campus. See the problem? This is a very physical role for me - and here I am, 20-odd days away, and having trouble going down the stairs.

I've lost control of my own body, and I'm having a really hard time with that. I'm used to lifting boxes, and putting in extra hours, and saying "Yeah, I'll take care of that". Instead, I have to depend on a co-worker who just came back from maternity leave and is still getting re-adjusted and transitioned and another co-worker who already has his hands full with another program. Instead, I've had to prep everything for this program as if I will not be able to come to campus - because at this point, if this program was to be held this week, I would not be able to do any of it. I can hardly do half days, let alone 12 hours on a cart, running around campus, and lifting boxes. I hate having to let go of my control.

But my Mom brought up a good point - this is for me AND Naomi, so asking for help isn't a bad thing. It's important to be able to recognize my limits, and I think that I'm doing a pretty good job at that. I'm trying to keep my head up, and looking at the positives in this situation.

And before anyone says it, yes, I am fully aware that I have 3 more months left - thank you. I know that everyone is trying to understand where I am coming from, and being supportive, and I am very, very appreciative of that. However, something that will NOT help me right now is saying "Wow, and you've got 3 months to go?! It's just going to get worse!". I understand that, but thinking of it in that way will not help me. At all - if I'm like this now, and it's going to get worse, then I've got 3 months of emotional and physical turmoil ahead, and I would rather not focus on that. I'm not trying to be mean, just honest.

I'm just wrapped in a cocoon of painful movements and the realization that this is going to be my life for 3 more months. I have a few more options left (i.e. requesting a referral for a physical therapist, etc), but if that stuff doesn't work out...I'm not sure what else I can do.

Then, on top of everything, I get the spurts of "Buck up, Megan, you're fine. Millions of women have been pregnant, why are you having such a hard time with it? You're just being over dramatic and wimpy." I am armed with that mentality, then push it too hard (and by pushing too hard, I mean going shopping at Michael's & Walmart, or attempting to attend rehearsals for a Christmas Concert), just to have the following 3 days be ones that leave me crying and in pain.

I don't understand why I allow others' perceptions, views, and opinions get to me - I know my body, and I should know my limits. On the other hand, I also want to prove I'm not a wimp. It's a vicious cycle.

The good news - I'm going to try to see a physical therapist, and I have a week and a half off before the program in January. My hope is that resting as much as I can between now and then will allow me to be all wonderful by the time I need to be. But my fear is that I'll just smile through the pain and push too hard, then be all jacked up until birth. I just need to be careful.

Sorry for the pity party - I've just tried to have a good attitude throughout (although being honest enough to say that pregnancy sucks)), and my good attitude is all dried up today. Today may be a blue day, but here's hoping tomorrow is another color.

I'm officially in my third trimester - 13 weeks to go.

Oh, it's 100% lady in there!

Yesterday we had another OB appointment, and we told him that we *thought* it was a girl. He referred us to the same office to do a free "sex check" - hooray! So, it's 100% lady - but she was being obnoxious AGAIN and wouldn't move. Ahh, my stubborn child. After she showed us her goodies, she looks at the camera, throws up her hand and struck a pose. Oh yes - my pose-striker melo-dramatic daughter - I'm excited to actually meet her!! I think she's going to pop out with a boa and rose colored glasses yelling "I'm A DIVA!". Yep, that would make her my daughter. Still, I hope she has some of Michael's temperament!

Another peice of fantastic news - I am still sleeping through the night, even at 22 weeks. YAY! I hope that this continues to be good news, because I will not be a very pleasant person if I don't get sleep. Lord help us all.

In some not-so-happy news, my back is all kinds of jacked up. The chair at work doesn't help, but I have intense pain shooting down my legs and lower back, and my upper back (shoulder blade area) feels like it is pulling in 100 different directions. I blame THAT on my ladies up top - I mean, really? Common, I need a break. So, the doctor put me on some lifting restrictions (don't lift things, but if you have to bend over, squat, don't bend using your back, etc), which is hard for me because then I start to feel lazy. I've also had these nice heart "spells" - racing heart, hard to breath for a couple minutes, then it goes away. If it continues, I may have to be referred to a cardiologist. Hooray!! Blech. Whatever.

I'm going to be really honest, because let's face it, I'm an honest person. I hate being pregnant. Strong, strong dislike for the PG. I know that's not a very popular opinion, but suck it people, it isn't fun. Some people have BEAUTIFUL pregnancies, where everything was roses, unicorns, and lollipops - I do not have one of those. That does not mean I love my daughter any less, or that it is going to deter me from having any more kids (maybe not 4, though). Even the kicking is getting old - I know that THAT part is supposed to be OMG, SO COOL! And it was, at first. But it feels like an alien sliding around in there, no lie. I have only a handful of days that I can look upon and think, "I had a really good day that day" - that stinks. I should be in the "Honeymoon" period of my pregnancy (the 2nd Trimester is referred to the Honeymoon period for some, because the morning sickness is over, and it's before you start aching because you have a 100 lb baby inside your uterus. Trimesters are 13 weeks long. I'm at 22 weeks. 4 more weeks of the lovely "Honeymoon" period left. Seriously, THIS is the best it's going to get? Shoot me now).

I may have said all of this before, but I needed to repeat it. Thanks for playing.

But, I can SLEEP THROUGH THE NIGHT!! SWEET! ::thumbs up:: ::eyeroll::

Work is going ok - my "office" or "department" (which isn't really an office/department anymore) was absorbed into Admissions and Enrollment Services, which is actually a really good thing for what we are trying to do for students and their parents. However, it's put my life in limbo, so I am sharing an office temporarily, which isn't too bad, but I have only a few people to talk to. I end up just throwing on some music and pumping through my to-do list. That's hard for me, because I love to talk to people. Plus, everyone MUST think I am some sort of slacker, because I have to go to Dr's appointments for stuff, work from home because the chairs suck, or ward of severe nausea in the morning. Vomiting in a shared office space is very uncool, so I am not in here when I am feeling nauseous. That would just be embarrassing for everyone involved.

I could really go for some roses, unicorns and ESPECIALLY lollipops right now.

It's a lady!

...or at least we THINK it's a lady!!

So, here's the story.

I wake up about 6 times a night these days - no, not to potty (or piddle, as I'm now calling it), just randomly. Every time I woke up last night consisted of me saying "IS IT TIME YET?!" Irritating.

Wake up, eat breakfast, drive to the doctor, go to the wrong building, walk to a new building, find the office, and hoorah.

I check in, and I'm told there is one person in front of us. I asked if we were still going to be on time and she said, "Weeeeellll, the machine isn't working right now".

Now, I've always been a little over dramatic and always more than a little honest. We all know this, no one should be surprised, let's move on.

I look at her and say, "Well, it'll be fixed, right?" and she said, "Well, I don't really know...". I then said, "Oh, please don't tell me that - I'll die." (Remember, we already talked about the over dramatic nature of my life - please wipe the smile off your face :) ). She laughed, and said if it wasn't fixed, then they would get me in at another location today. That made me feel better, and we sat.

Machine was fixed, we go in, and I am about to jump out of my skin, I'm so excited. The tech was super nice, made some small talk, and she got out the goop to put on my abdomen. She didn't just put some on, she COVERED it. I mean COVERED. Think about mustard - you want to cover your hot dog, so you shake it, squeeze, and then a good amount comes out. Well, after that good amount it starts splattering, right? RIGHT. She kept doing it, and it ended up getting on Michael and on my shirt. I didn't care though, we were going to see baby bean!!

She immediately started doing the scan, and was doing all the measurements. Good news - EVERYTHING looks great!! Everything is right where it should be.

But, as she immediately started doing measurements, I knew that there was a problem. After she did the measurements, she said "Well, this is a little difficult because the baby has it's legs tucked up underneath it."

ACH!! I KNEW it!!

So, a little back story. Just 2 weeks ago we saw my OB and he tried to make out whether it was a lady or a little gentleman. Well, the umbilical cord was in between the baby's legs - the doctor said it looked like a baby g-string, to which the baby gave the thumbs up to. (It already has a sense of humor!!) Well, once the OB got it to move, the legs clamped up. ACH! So, baby and I had a conversation that day, and again this morning, about the importance of opening the legs and showing mommy what kinds of parts it has.

Apparently, my child is a little jokester!! The tech couldn't get a clear picture, but she said she saw girly parts, didn't see any boy parts, so she determined with a large amount of certainty that it is a girl. With the heart rate (160) and my gut, we agree. Hopefully we'll actually have a picture in 6 weeks or so! As we were walking out of the office, Michael looked at me and said "That is your child through and through - stubborn!" I'm glad my husband knows me so well! :)

My original gut instinct was right -a little lady! Michael had me convinced over the past few weeks that it was a boy - but I should have just stuck with my gut! Regardless, she's healthy, and that's what matters.

So, we hereby retire the name "baby bean" and replace it with "Naomi". This will be hard!

And let's discuss this name for a brief moment. It has been pointed out to me that "Naomi" is "I Moan" backwards. Thank you. Now, the people who have told me this all have male genitalia - am I to assume that "I Moan" is looked at in a sexual manner? Why else would someone mention that "Naomi" is "I moan" backwards? I almost equate it to looking at "80085" on a calculator (it spells "Boobs" for you playing the home game). Maybe, just maybe, I would have thought "Huh" when thinking about Naomi backwards. However, when thinking about people say "I moan" when it comes to my daughter...ummmm, yeah. All those protective instincts coming out. So, ask yourself for a minute - when you see/think the name "Naomi", what do you think? Do you think, nice name! or do you think I Moan? Then ask yourself - am I male or female? This would be a nice social experiment.

So, hahahaaa, Naomi is "I moan" backwards. If you feel the need, please laugh about it - privately. I would rather not think about what males think about that name. I guess it just brings up so many thoughts now that we are going to be parents - EVERYONE is someone's child. There are so many ways this conversation could go - it should probably wait for another day.

We're having a little girl - it's so hard to believe! I honestly think that she already has a fiesty personality. Hopefully she'll have some of her dad's temperment!! :) And I hope she doesn't like pink. And I hope she likes music - but I'll die a little on the inside if she's a soprano.

I'm kidding, don't everyone start on your "I'm judging you" train. Whateva. I want our little lady to be happy, but not give her everything she wants. I want her to work for what she has and know the value of a dollar. I want her to look beyond the material possessions and be happy with what she has. I want her to respect others while staying true to herself. I don't want her to conform if she doesn't want to. I want her to play with boy AND girl toys. I want her to love who the heck she wants to love without fear of being judged. I want her to have personality, and not a pushover. I want her to have strong convictions, and not yeild to someone just because they said it should be. I want her to respect herself enough to know that she doesn't need a significant other to complete her. There is just so much I want for little Naomi - it's so overwhelming, it's hard to explain.

And, if I know anything about my daughter thusfar, I think she's going to be less of a princess and more of a Diva. I'm somehow ok with that. :)

As for Mommy, she's been feeling a little crappy the past few days. We're halfway there, and I have a feeling that the aches and pains are just going to get worse. My memory is absolutely shot - I have to put everything in my phone and set a reminder. I don't finish my sentences, and Michael is just confused all of the time because he doesn't know what I am talking about. I bet parts of this blog makes zippo sense, because I am too tired to proof read it. Yes, I am that lame.

I'm re-joining choir tomorrow, and I'm excited about that. Sure, the music is not challenging, and I feel like some members get their jollies by kicking people out of their seats and comparing repertoire lists (seriously, it's bad), but it's music and I get to spend time with some pretty good friends. I just hope that I don't crash and burn - 3 hours of rehearsal after a 9 hour work day is a little intense sometimes. But, worth it, because it's music, and I'll take it.

So, yeah, that's our news! :) And I'm officially spent. I'm going to bed, and it's 7:30 p.m. Is it bad that I started to doze off during the nightly news at 5:30 p.m.? Yes? Ok then.

It's a blog!

Well, we've been pretty boring lately, LOL. I don't have anything pressing to share, just that we're boring.

The migraines subsided, which was great for about 3 days. Mr. Hullinger then got sick, passed it to Mrs. Hullinger and Baby Bean, and while he gets to take all these wonderful cold meds, she and the bean have to hope it gets better. Silly husband, passing his stuff around! I'm feeling better, but husband is not. Poor guy!

Lots of things are happening in our lives!

There are lots of changes at my job - I was fearful at first, but I think these changes are going to be really good in the long run. I'm excited for the new challenges, but am not looking forward to moving to my 3rd office in 1.5 years. But at least I'll have a window, be very near the parking garage, and work with some amazing people. Yay!

Michael got a random court order saying that he missed his court date for a citation for no registration and unlawful sale of a vehicle from North Las Vegas police. Except we have never been to North Las Vegas, lapsed in our registration, or sold a car here. Hmmm, fishy! Come to find out our "totaled" car was fixed, someone got a new title, and parked the darn thing somewhere with a for sale sign and no registration present. Welllll, North Las Vegas Police looked up the VIN number and got Michael's name for being the last known person who registered the car. Well, I don't quite know who to be mad at, because we now have to go to court on October 27 to plead Not Guilty, provide paperwork, and possibly pay a court fee. I'm trying to stay patient through the whole thing, but someone would have received the ticket on the car, saw our name, and they would have KNOWN it was someone else. And they just ignored it!! How can someone be that dishonest about something? Something like that would absolutely eat away at me, knowing that I lied about something, and not taking responsibility for my actions. In the end, is it THAT big of a deal? No, no one has died, no one got arrested, so it could be so much worse. But this just happens to be one of those moments in my life where I think "REALLY?!" - one of those moments that you lose a little more faith in the human race. It's examples like this when I'll start to think about when I am making choices.

Roxie is fantastic, but she barks a bit - but she's a dog, what can you do? I wish we had a yard for her to run around in, but we take her out multiple times a day, so I hope that's enough.

Our next trip home to IL is over Thanksgiving - yay! Our parents are throwing us a baby shower - we're excited! If you are in the Springfield area and want more information, let me know!

Really, that's it, LOL. Baby's good, Mama's good, Pa's good. We're just all around good! Each day I'm getting more and more excited about being pregnant. I think the new opportunities at work have also gotten me more excited about getting up and going to work, even though I often feel like sleeping all day, every day!!

All in all, it's a good day. :)

I feel feisty, so it's story time...

Let's be honest, for me, being pregnant has not been fun. I don't foresee it being fun - is that bad? I am a little feisty this evening, so I thought I would take it out on my blog instead of accidentally lashing out at Michael (poor guy).

So, I've mentioned that I've had a migraine since Sunday, 9/20. It's in the base of my skull and my left temple. I also mentioned that I received a narcotic - hydrocodone, also known as vicodin - to help "crack" the migraine. My OB was super nice, and said, we'll get this taken care of (I heart him so much).

You also know that I called the doctor on Friday, and that I never heard back from them. I was more than a little pissed about it, but there wasn't really much I was able to do about it - what am I going to do, track my OB/nurse down at home? Anyway, Saturday was horrible, even with the meds they provided, so I called the nurse on duty.

First of all, she was rude. Dear miss thang, it's not my fault that your job requires you to be on call all weekend. It's the nature of your damn job, get used to it. Secondly, when I try to calmly (yes, calmly - I know that getting upset on the phone with someone isn't going to get you anywhere) explain my situation, don't sigh like I am the one putting a dent in your life. It's 11 a.m. - it's not like I woke you from your damn slumber. And, irritably saying, "Well, just go to the ER" doesn't help me either. So thank you, Miss-I-have-helped-zero-percent, you have officially made yourself look like a dumbass.

And, on a side note - one of the reason for rising health care costs is telling people "Well, just go to the ER" when they obviously just need some advice on how to get from one day until the next until they can talk to the damn doctor. What, have you never heard of an urgent/quick care? Thanks for playing.

So, I hang up with Miss Thang, and I am just...upset. I have had this pain for almost a week at this point, I feel like everyone at the OB office (besides my fantastic OB) finds pregnant women to be annoying (seriously?), and I would like to go back to the four days that I felt fantastic. Where did those days go? I've just got a lot of emotions goin' on, so I just promptly burst into tears, because I don't know what else to do. Then, my amazing dog Roxie, who was sleeping on the couch, comes up, puts her head under my chin, and just cuddles with me. It made me feel better, because I was by myself since Michael works weekends now.

I cried for a little while, then told myself to buck up because crying wasn't helping the damn situation. I called our insurance tele-nurse, and asked if I could get the same care at Urgent Care than I would at the ER. She said yes, but at this point it was 6 p.m., and I didn't want to deal with the damn Urgent Care, so I just ended up going to bed.

Sunday morning rolls around, and I wake up about 10 a.m. - apparently, I needed some sleep. and I decide to not take the pain meds to see if I was just working myself up in a tizzy for no reason (I have a complex that maybe I'm just making things worse, so I sometimes try to figure out how bad is it really, and can I really wait). I left the house at 11 a.m. to go to Urgent Care, and let's be honest, I really shouldn't have been driving. The sun was BRIGHT (one of the rare days I was praying for some cloud cover), and I had the patience of a June Bug (I don't know how much patience they really have, but it was the first thing that came to my mind), so the drive sucked.

I get in there, and I should have really stayed home. It was super busy and everyone had those flu masks on. Immediately I say to myself, is it bad enough to sit in here for however many hours it's going to take? The answer was a def. yes, because I was surprised how quickly my headache went from bad to worse.

I walk up to the front desk, and here is a heavier woman, mid-thirties, who obviously doesn't want to be there (Who can blame her? Everyone's wearing FLU MASKS). I obviously walk up to where the line starts, and she's still just chatting away with the female security guard that is reading a magazine behind the desk. Way to secure the place, lady.

Anywho, they keep talking, and I'm just standing there. I have to keep telling myself that this is not the time or place to pick a fight, and to keep my hormones in check. So she finally says, with disdain and a sigh, I might add, "Can I help you?" I walk up, and before I can finish saying "I need to see a doctor" I get a short "Well, I need an insurance card and picture ID." I get my stuff out, wanting to be a smart ass, but keeping it together.

I give her my stuff, and she asks what I'm there for. I say, short and sweet (because I know she doesn't give a crap what I'm there for, she just needs to know if for the triage nurse), "I'm 14 weeks pregnant. I've had a migraine since last Sunday. I'm on narcotics to crack the migraine. It's not going away. I need help." Pretty simple, right? The woman looks at me and says, with a little smirk on her face,

"Well, I don't know what else we can do for you"

?!?!?!?!?!!!!????!??????????????!?!?! !! $*#&@(*#&($&(&@(&!!!!!!!!!!!

Dear lady who hates her job, how long were you in med school? Where did you do your residency? Dunkin' Donuts? Last time I checked, you need to take my information down and pass it along to those who can actually help me. I don't need advice from Dumb Ass, MD in the front, THANKS.

Of course, that's what I thought, and no, I didn't actually say that - although I wish I did. I just said "Well, they told me to go to the ER, but I didn't want to waste my time there". Dunkin' Donuts behind the counter grunted and gave me my wrist band.

I sit down for about 20 minutes, and get called into triage by the nicest nurse, and she takes all my info. My blood pressure was a bit high (141/90), but she attributed that to the pain. On my way out, she gives me a flu mask. I ask how long it's going to take - she says, eehhhhhhh, about 2 1/2 hours.

I died a little on the inside.

I felt like crying, but said thank you and sat my happy butt back down and put on my mask. Then I felt like I was suffocating, so I took the damn thing off. But, really, what is a mask going to do? Come to find out they had lots of flu patients in the past week, so if I get the flu, we know where it came from.

By this point, I've had no meds, and I was not going to sit another 2 1/2 hours without them and practically in tears. I took some meds, and started to wait.

About 1 hour into waiting, a family who didn't speak english came in with this super cute little girl who was just screaming her head off. I felt so sorry for her, but I didn't want her to sit next to me - she was screaming SO LOUD. What happens? They sit next to me, screaming and all.

At this point, there is really no where else to sit, so I just start praying for strength because I feel like I could lay on the floor and die, and it would be ok. It was that bad. Finally, FINALLY they come get me.

I go to the room, and wait for 20 minutes. I am fine with this, because I am away from the screaming cute girl (I still heard her in the waiting room, and still felt super sorry for her). The nurse practitioner comes in, checks all my stuff for mobility, asks me questions, blah blah blah. I told her what my OB gave me to crack the migraine, and she rolled her eyes. I ignored it, because once again I wanted to go into the "You're not a doctor" shpeel, but whatever.

She said, well, we can give you this, this, or this (all take home meds). I thought, sweet, they are just going to send me home with some prescriptions and we can be done with this mess. But, then she said she had to look something up.

She comes back, and said, oh, we can't give you that stuff because you're pregnant. I had a resounding DUH in my head - why do you think the OB won't give it to me, pea brain? I said, oh, then what can you do?

They give a pregnant woman morphine through an IV, that's what they do! WHAT?! At that point, I didn't care, but they are awfully liberal with the narcotics when pregnant. I was like, whatever, so I waited for 25 minutes for a nurse to come do the IV - when I went to the restroom, the nurses were just standing around talking. Funny, my patience was through the roof on Sunday - that's pretty good for me.

Anyway, I had to call Michael from work to come pick me up, and I felt bad, but it's not like I could drive. After I called him, Big Mamma Nurse comes in with all of her needles and devices of torture. Again, I didn't care, just make it go away. Now, none of you know this, but I have what nurses call "Collapsing Veins". Once the needle goes in, they hide. They hide for stupid people, that's my philosophy.

So, Big Mamma Nurse tries my right arm, where the veins are bad, in my opinion. I tell her that, and she ignores me. I just close my eyes and wait for it. She sticks the needle in once, and digs. I mean totally digging for the damn vein. She comes back out, sticks it in again, and digs again. Can't get it. I tell her, again, that the right hand almost always works the first time. What does Big Mamma do? Goes to the damn left hand. Ok, whatever. She sticks - twice, and still digs. At this point, I'm in tears, and trying to talk through it. I usually pass out, but the head pains are apparently keeping me in the here and now.

So Big Mamma gives up and says, I have to go get another nurse. She patches me up, and leaves me for another 20 minutes. In the meantime, Michael gets there. Dunkin' Donuts from the front desk brings him back to the room - ugh.

Michael looks at me and says, Dear Lord! I have blood on my hand and arm, and I just know there is going to be all kinds of bruising at the site of Vein Assult '09.

Another nurse comes in, and we'll call her Crabby. She obviously hates her life - mid 40's in a gross flower patterned scrub uniform. At least she looks like she has done this more times than Big Mamma. She finds the veins on my right hand (finally), and sticks. And digs. I pull just slightly, and she yells "DON'T MOVE!!" I don't quite remember the next part, because I was in tears and she was yelling at me that my micro-movement almost stuck her BLAH BLAH BLAH. WHATEVER. It was an accident. If Big Mamma didn't dig so much, I wouldn't have flinched, thanks, Crabby! She then tries to make some small talk by asking me about morning sickness.

Don't get me started, lady. I told her that I had to be on medications and it was awful, so she goes into a story about how soda and crackers before opening her eyes in the morning helped. Dear Crabby, do you think I didn't try that, and everything else in the book? Thanks for FREAKING PLAYING!!!

I was just really irritated with Crabby, and immediately wanted Big Mamma Nurse back. Crabby then asked what I was there for, and I told her the abbreviated story. She looks at me and said, you know that you'll have migraines for 9 months, I don't know what we can do for you. Then goes into detail about how it was awful for her, but she got through it.

I almost threw her from the room. I was so mad. Whatever, she left after that, and I was polite and said thank you and sorry for almost poking her (which I don't think that I did), and she rolled her eyes and said "Yeah" and left the room.

The morphine kicked in, and I felt great. The pain level went to about a 2, which was awsome, they have me on fluids, the nurse practitioner comes back in, says awesome, and we're outta there. I felt weird afterword, but we went to the car, and I was STARVING - I'd been there for 5 hours, and the dumb pregnant lady didn't bring any snacks because she wasn't thinking. And she promptly threw up all of the fluids and meds they gave her at Urgent Care on the way home. It was amazing. I really hope it happens again.

Anyway, I get home, and slept, unfitfully (finally) for a couple of hours. You know what woke me up? The headache. It was back, full force. I was PISSED. So I just sit there, with a rag on my head, tried some claritin that the Nurse Practitioner suggested (which didn't work), and just watched Amazing Race, followed by a fitful night sleep. Yay.

This morning, I wake up, head raging, and I knew that I totally could NOT work in my office, with it's florecent lighting and noises up and down the hallway, so I worked half the day from home, in my nice, dimly lit home.

I called my OB AT 8 a.m., and requested to speak to the nurse. I go through the short version of the weekend's events, and mention that no one called me back Friday. The nurse was super nice, and said that it was her fault - she thought that the message was the old one from the previous Wednesday and threw it out. It was an accident, and accidents happen, so I was like, "It's ok". She said that she would talk to my OB today, and give me a call back.

Hi, it's 8 p.m. PST, and NO PHONE CALL. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, what do I have to do?!! I'm following protocol, processes, and procedures - could someone just call me back? Please?

So, I absolutely 100% have to be back at work tomorrow - I'm less than three weeks away from a major program that I am planning, and the fact that I've missed this much work already sucks. That's why I keep trying to work from home. That, and I'm going crazy.

So now of course I have Crabby Nurse in my head, saying "This will last alllll niiiinnneee moooonntthhss" and I want to smack her all over again. I really don't know what else the doctor is going to be able to do, but I at least need him to say "There is nothing else to do, suck it up". But I'm sure as hell not going to continue taking the narcotics - I've taken enough as it is. So, in the meantime, I'll just have to keep drinking all of my water, eating every 2 hours, and taking walks/exercising, and hope for the best.

Phew, the fiestiness seems to be leaving my body - lucky for Michael. :) And now Roxie is crawling all over me to get some sort of attention, so it must be time to go. And, here is her mark.... xsfffwwaffessasacscscscscsc.

Love her!

12 week ultrasound, NT test, and why I talk about pregnancy so much

Today, we had an NT scan, which is an ultrasound/blood test to review the possibility of Down Syndrome and Edwards Syndrome. Some women make the choice to not get this scan - I made the choice to b/c of some medications that I'm on, and I want to be sure things are progressing appropriately.

They are! We have a very small chance of either syndrome, so we have elected to not continue with the screenings/scans to identify further birth defects. Here is our bean at 12 weeks:

We are pretty sure we have a name for both a boy and a girl, but we aren't announcing them quite yet! :) However, we're reserving the right to change the name up until birth, LOL!

So, if you haven't noticed, I like to talk about my pregnancy. I like to talk about it a lot - it's new to us, I want to share with everyone! :) I love to learn about things, as well share our experiences with our friends and family. I know that not everyone understands this stance, and sometimes I get the "Oh my gosh, you are talking about it AGAIN" looks, or the "You're really talking about this so early?" looks. I am a pretty open person; Michael and I want to share our experiences as much as we can. I'm also pretty blunt, and pretty darn honest about stuff (if you didn't already know!! :) ). Anyway, if you are around me everyday, and you hear about the newest symptom or the continuation of old symptoms, that's why I talk about it all of the time - when I experience something, I talk about it a lot. It's who I am, and I'm cool with that.

Also, I think some of my hormones are leveling out, since most pregnancy comments don't bother me as much as they used to - even the "water" comments don't bother me as much! :) Instead of frustration, now it's more like, ::sigh::. Case in point - I keep being told how "young" we are to have kids. I'm 25! We got married when Michael was 22, and I was 23 - not 18 (like when I WANTED to get married, LOL). That makes me ::sigh:: because you're either too young...too old...too heavy...too skinny...too this, too that, blah blah blah. Pregnant or not, you're never going to win with everyone, so we should all stop trying! :)

I'm not trying to get all political and crap, but I will say how thankful we are to have healthcare. I couldn't imagine doing all of this without support from insurance; however, I hope we don't miss a hoop that we need to jump through, because if we do, it could be a costly mistake. So many people in this country don't have healthcare, and personally, if I were to not have insurance for some reason, I would want my child to have insurance. Some of you may know how hard it is to not have insurance available. I know how it sucks to be considered someone with a "pre-existing condition". That is why, after research on both sides, I have decided to support healthcare reform. If you aren't aware of the specifics, there is a lot of misinformation floating around - check out opinions on both sides, and make the decision for yourself. Ok, I'm done with political stuff. :)

That's probably it for now - I'm tired. This seems to be a pattern...maybe I'm pregnant! :)

Quick HAHAA - post 2 of the day

I'm on babycenter.com right now (remember, I woke up at 2:30 am - see previous post), and saw this:

I went off on a lady in Panda Express that told me I shouldn't eat Chinese food because I was pregnant. I said (and quote), "Oh really?! What the fuck do women in China eat? French food?" And then I told her husband (or whatever) that if she couldn't control herself in public she shouldn't be in public. He didn't say shit to me.

HAHAHAAAAA - it's a board discussing how a woman went off on another woman for smoking during pregnancy, and now everyone is discussing their stories. What a good laugh - I wish I was that witty!

(For those of you offended by the language - my apologies - it just wouldn't have the same effect without it).

Happy Thursday!

Sleep eludes me, quick update, quick opinion, and implementation of a "WTF Moment"

First, I would like to say THANK YOU to all the amazing feedback I've gotten about this blog! Not only is it a great outlet for me to talk about pregnancy, but also a way to keep friends/family updated on life. It's hard being pregnant so far away from family (say, 2,000 miles), but technology makes it so much easier. My poor Mom was pregnant with my sister when my Dad was stationed in Germany - talk about far away from home. She wasn't even on the same continent as her family, and really only had letters to communicate with them. That sucks, man. Technology makes this much easier.

I woke up to the dreaded "I'm on a boat" feeling (no, not the song) at 2:30 am. It's now 4:15, and I can't get back to sleep. The nausea/vomiting are back full force, despite the medication to help ward it off. On Tuesday it knocked me on my butt, and I hadn't been able to eat for about 24 hours. I started to feel "funky" (that's about the only word I have for it), so we went to Urgent Care. Long story short, my blood pressure was 112/76 (lower than usual), and my heart rate was 123 bpm (high for blood pressure being that low). The doc comes in, says, "You're really dehydrated", gave me fluids, anti-nausea meds, and potassium, and I went on to dry heave the entire time I was there. It was such an awesome experience, I made great relationships with the nurses, and I look forward to my next visit.

In all seriousness, it sucked, but I am really thankful that I didn't have to go to the hospital for that. That would have really been a not-pleasant experience. Sleep seems to elude me more often than not, so I wouldn't doubt that I will begin to come into the living room during the early morning hours, have Roxie fall asleep on my lap, and continue to update le blog. And if this dizziness could go away, that would be great - I literally fell over last night, had to lay on the floor, Michael's face worried and Roxie licking my face. ::sigh::

Anyway, another observation that I've had about the "pregnancy world" is how hard women can be on other women.

(I love the freecreditreport.com commercials - they make me laugh. Sorry, I got distracted.)

I was talking to my Mom yesterday, and we were discussing how it's hard to make decisions on what to do for pregnancy/birth/raising kids (i.e. breastfeeding vs. formula feeding, doula vs. no doula, epidural vs. no epidural, how long you have your child rear facing in the car - seriously, I've never thought about this stuff - no wonder I can't sleep). We also discussed how pregnant women/mothers can be so harsh and judgemental of other mothers - thankfully, I haven't experienced it first hand, but I am sure I will.

Case in point: I am part of the babycenter.com community, which has been really nice to discuss some of these issues with other women. You would be shocked to see how many threads there are slamming decisions made by other posters. One woman discussed why she was formula feeding, and she got huge backlash from other mothers who say mothers who don't breastfeed are just "lazy". I was shocked! Who is some random person online to say another mother isn't making the right decision for her child? I, of course, gave my opinion stating that they were rude, and although I had some strong supporters, some women just wrote me off. I couldn't believe it!

I'll be discussing my own opinions on some of these topics, but I also hope to have links to arguments on both sides, that way my non-preggo friends can start being informed on the decisions. You may not care right now, but you may in the future - just throwin' it out there.

I really hope that I don't turn into a judgemental soccer mom, who is so overbearing that she completely makes all the decisions for her kids. It's sad, there are so many things that I want to avoid that I'm afraid that motherhood is just going to stress me out 24/7, and I'm going to forget to enjoy it.

That brings me to another point. I need to stop and smell the roses, although the smell makes me nauseous (that's my lame attempt at a joke at 4:30 a.m.). I try to keep a good attitude; sometimes it's hard, but I always say my prayers about how thankful I am for the opportunity to be a mother. It's the most amazing job on the planet, and it's moments like these, quiet moments with my dog resting on my leg (while I get the tingling-your-leg-is-way-asleep feeling), an info-mercial playing in the background, and the hum of the refrigerator that I realize how truly lucky I am. I have a wonderful husband, my best friend, who has been amazing through this whole process, a loving dog, a roof over our heads, a great job, a great family, and good friends, both in Vegas & across the country. I guess I'm just feeling really thankful this morning, and I can't wait to meet little baby bean to show him/her how amazing life can be, no matter what is happening in your life (good or bad).

I'm gonna be a mamma - that's wweeeeiiird (I still have my moments!!). :)

(Can I just share how PUMPED I am that Beatles Rock Band comes out in less than a week?! I can't wait to have my parents visit us for Christmas and have my Dad try out the drums - it's going to be good times that we have to get on tape, believe me!!)

On the appointment update, I have a triple screen next week (September 9), which means they take a whole lot of blood and do an ultra sound to see if little bean is susceptible to Downs Syndrome and other birth defects. Some women choose not to get this, but I did b/c I have to be on medication for a pre-existing condition, so I thought it would be a good idea. What I hope they do NOT do (which I'm still finding out if they are doing this or not) is an amniocentesis. For those of you playing the home game, that's when they stick a huge needle (about a foot long) into your abdomen to take a sample of the baby's amniotic fluid. Can we say a resounding "Hell no". If they do it, they're going to have to knock me out, because...no. Nope. I can't even wrap my head around that. What if the poke the baby's head? My baby would have a damn hole in it's HEAD. Could we not stress me out? Thanks so much.

So lots of prayers that they aren't doing an amniocentesis, or else I may just cancel the appointment and just hope for the best. Yes, I am that big of a baby.

I travel to Ohio September 11 - 13 for my cousin's wedding - thank goodness I am getting out of the city so I can see family, even if it is for only two days. Just pray I make it through the plane ride out there and back, lol.

And today's "I'm SO tired of hearing this" doesn't come from me, it comes from a good friend that is due pretty soon. She works with a lot of students, and many people pop in her office and say "You're never going to come back to work", and "You're going to want to just stay home with the baby!" Her responses to me were quite funny - I'm sure you can imagine, LOL. BTW, she really enjoys her job, and is actually quite ok with coming back to work. Just a little shout-out to her! :)

And, finally, I'm implementing something new: each blog is going to have a "WTF Moment". This edition: "Man slaps a stranger's screaming child" (http://www.inquisitr.com/35612/man-slaps-a-strangers-screaming-baby-in-wal-mart/). Really - we're serious?! I would rip that man apart - lord help the person who lays a hand on my child (see, I'm already getting all protective of my little bean!!).

Enjoy that article - it's enough to say "WTF".

Remember the days where you could eat food? Yeah, me either.

It's been about 6 weeks since we found out we were having a baby - and I would love to say that it has been the most amazing experience of my life, and that I want a million babies. But I can't say that. Wish I could, but I can't. Don't judge.

Pregnancy has been less than easy for me. Whenever I thought of being pregnant, I knew it would be hard, but I also though there would be days of blissful thoughts of my baby, rubbing my stomach on the deck, looking at the mountains, drinking some lemonade.

HA. In my dreams!

First, yes, I do have blissful thoughts about my baby - that part is very true (and I smile and get excited all over again). But when I wake up at 2:15 in the morning dry heaving on my pillow I start to think if there is A FREAKING DEMON IN PLACE OF MY CHILD. My stomach pooches out, which I didn't think would bother me, but it does, the mountains are getting old, it's still 110 outside, and lemonade makes bile come up into my mouth. So much for the picture perfect pregnancy.

Before anyone freaks out, no, I don't think my child is a demon, but my little bean is absolutely sucking the life out of me. Like, completely dry. I've had severe nausea since 5 weeks (I'm 10 weeks now), I have to keep my office door shut because I randomly dry heave, I couldn't eat anything, I am now on meds for nausea/vomiting, and what I do eat makes me absolutely sick for about 2 hours (but at least I am getting something down).

When does this start getting fun?

One week, I couldn't get enough Popsicles and sno-cones. The next week, Trix cereal was AWESOME. Milk still makes me gag. Greasy food is a no-no. Grilled cheese? AWESOMER THAN ANYTHING. But what sucks is that what works for me today, will absolutely kill me tomorrow. Funny how that works.

I am getting larger - I haven't been able to fit in my clothes for a few weeks now, which is exciting and depressing all at the same time. I thought, since I'm already a "full figured" gal, it wouldn't bother me all that much, but the changes that happen with your body mess with your mind. I will miss the opportunity of having a cute little baby bump, because people won't really be able to notice until November anyway, and those who don't know me won't ask me when I'm due, ever, because they don't want to offend a non-pregnant fat lady.

And, before anyone asks, I will not be taking side "progression" photos. Period. I already feel soooo uncomfortable with my body, so I don't want to do it and have people say "I see no difference". It's awkward being heavy and pregnant. And it sucks.

Case in point: When I told a person from work (who I only work with on occasion, and does not work in the same building as I do) that we were expecting, his eyes immediately go to my stomach and goes, "Really?" But not the "Really?" excited "Really", it was the "Really, because I don't believe you because you just look fat". The eyebrows were all furrowed and everything, and had the headcock to one side as if to ask "Are you serious?" . I wanted to crawl under a table and die. (And no, I did not take this the wrong way - I went over the scenario in my brain a number of times).

And there was another guy at work who said this summer (before we were pregnant, but we were trying), "I'll never let my wife get pregnant when she is fat - that is so selfish of her. My wife knows that if she wants a child, she needs to keep working out". My jaw almost hit the floor. Really? Selfish? AND, you are talking to a heavier woman of child bearing age. Hey, IDIOT, do you have a pea for a brain? Watch what you say!

Overall, I have my good days and my bad days - today was a not so good day. I try to make it a good day, and overall it is, but my body seems to be so angry right now. I would like some happiness back in my body, please. Thanks so much.

Off to make a grilled cheese - that sounds damn good.

Shocker: Babies do not come from H2O

Oh. Oh, this saying and it's many variations.

"OMG, you drank the water!!"
"What kind of fertility drugs do you put in your water?"
"Man, I'm not drinking the water!"

::sigh:: And now begins the silly, cutsie comments surrounding pregnancy.

Just so we are on the same page, babies don't come from water, storks, or anything weird. It's when a sperm fertilizes an egg, and that egg embeds itself into the uterine wall. The sperm gets into the egg by a man and woman having relations. Everyone caught up? Good.

I don't know where this statement came from, but whoever first said it deserves to be punched in the face.

I first started hearing this statement when we were secretly TTC (that's short for Trying To Conceive, for you non-pregnant folk), and I had a couple of friends at work who recently became pregnant. One of them has an office next to mine, so I got to hear all of the cutsie comments for a full 6 months before we got pregnant (that may or may not be why they annoy the crap out of me at this point).

Anywho, every time they came and talked to her (we'll call her "T"), they would immediately stick their head in my office and say "Don't drink the water, we don't need another pregnant lady around here!!". Yes, people said it to be funny, and I get that, but after 15 times of hearing it during the SAME DAY, it gets old. Thanks. They had NO idea that we had been trying for a few cycles, and kept being disappointed. If it was that easy to get pregnant, I WOULD DRINK ALL OF THE DAMN WATER.

This leads to another pet peeve - how rude people can be when not realizing it, by asking "When are you having kids?" and "When are we going to see little ones?". Do people not realize that some couples are having fertility issues, and can't conceive easily? Do you realize that you asking and pressuring them about it, constantly reminding them of it, basically makes some feel like a failure? Ugh, I cringe every time I hear someone say it to someone else, just like I cringed when people said it to me - and we were only trying for a few months!

Now that we are pregnant, every single one of those people have come up to me and said "YOU DRANK THE WATER!!!". NO, I actually didn't. I just let it roll off my back for a little while, until a friend (that happens to be a student, and whom I'm pretty close to) comes to see me today. He had mentioned the dreaded "water" comment before, so I thought he had it out of his system. But, alas, it came tumbling out of his mouth, and I said, without missing a beat:

"No, I didn't drink the water. Didn't you know, people don't get pregnant from drinking water? I got pregnant from having sex with my husband!"

Seriously, it came rolling out, in the middle of the hallway, and really loud. Kinda embarrassing. (And the situation that lead me to starting this blog, because that probably shouldn't happen again - although the other people in the hallway laughed really hard).

But SERIOUSLY - his sperm + my egg = a fetus in my uterus, protected by the all-encompassing placenta. Then BING (like a stove!), March 28th, all done, welcome to the world, baby bean! No water needed to create a child. Who wouldda thought - it's a miracle!!

That ALSO brings me to the point that I've also heard "You just like you needed to join in, huh?", "Oh, you're part of that 'special group' now?", and "Oooh, you jumped on the bandwagon" and stuff like that. People say that because about 100 other people are pregnant or wives are pregnant in the small amount of offices that are on the 3rd floor of the Student Union. I actually have wanted a child for a long time, and was waiting for the husband to hop on board, thanks, and it wasn't POOF, I want a kid! I didn't just "hop on the bandwagon" - I'm not a sports fan who decides to jump on board with another team for the World Series, assholes. I planned, I studied, I went to doctors, I got opinions for nearly 8 months before we started TTC - it may not be as long as some people planned for, but WHATEVER.

This pregnant chick is done for now, because it seems to be the norm that I need a million hours of sleep. For those of you who have known me awhile, I've always had TONS of energy - not so much anymore. ::sigh:: I'll probably have no more energy for about 20 years...totally worth it, though!! :)

YAY! More later...