http://www.jarusa.com/daysuntil.htm
It makes me feel better to see the number get smaller every day. Then I use it to update my facebook page. I know it's pathetic. And I can almost guarantee you that you'd do the same thing if you were here!!!
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Hello World!
Well well well... it sure has been a long time since I have blogged. I have been a little busy with childbirth and a newborn and all. There have been several things I have thought to myself since last time, "Make sure to put that in your next blog!" but now there are so many that I would be on here all night blogging.
In a nutshell, Isabella Maria was born on July 13, 2010 at 4:27 AM emergency c-section. Before I go any further, let me paint a picture. The night before the induction I couldn't sleep. I was too excited. And I couldn't sleep all that day because I kept having visitors, plus I was excited, plus the cramps made me uncomfortable. So by the time all this excitement starting happening, I was spent! They induced me with Cytotec pills to ripen my cervix, which worked somewhat. They started at about 8:30AM and by 3:00AM the next morning (after having some pitocin too) I was dilated ALL THE WAY to 1.5 centimeters. Fun. Contractions suck, but I was lucky. Mine never got worse than period cramps. But it was period cramps that I had essentially all day, which never let up and it became extremely irritating. That and sleep deprivation made for a bitter Andrea.
Around 9:00PM they started the pitocin and Izzie almost immediately started acting different. Her heart rate went way high, in the 170-180 range. She is usually 130-150. It was like that for hours. They had my laying on my right side and gave me fluid resuscitation and 100% oxygen to try to make it better. The nurses assured me that sometimes babies react like this to pitocin and that it was OK. I was terrified. All I kept thinking was I went through so much work to get here, I am AT the finish line, you better not kill her now!! At about 11:00PM they gave me my epidural. When I say "they", I actually mean my co-worker Brady. lol. He was great. Great bedside manner. I felt very comfortable with him. Shortly after the epidural was when I had to lay on my right side, which may have contributed to future problems that I'll get into later.
The epidural went into a vein before it went into the right place, so I wonder if some of the meds (one of which was fentanyl, a potent narcotic) got in my blood stream. I am sure if that happened it was a minute amount. But if you add epidural plus the aforementioned sleep deprivation I felt loopy. Like, dreaming while awake, hallucination loopy. I kept waking Aaron up because I felt like I was dying whenever I started to fall asleep. I remember one of the "images" I had in my mind (my awake dreams, for lack of a better expression) was a combination of Will Ferrell and a teddy bear. Really? WTF!
My doctor came in later to check me and I told him I was scared that I did something wrong to cause this. Then I confessed that I had eaten feta cheese during my pregnancy (LMAO, looking back now he probably thought I was INSANE) and that I briefly had a tick on my neck (EEEWWW) over the weekend. I distinctly remember asking him if I could have gotten a "freaky tick disease" or a "feta cheese disease". Then I laughed because feta cheese disease rhymed. He laughed too. He probably wanted to smother me with my pillow. And I don't blame him. LOL. He assured me that the feta cheese in the US is pasteurized so it was OK, and he thinks the brief tick encounter was OK and in no way contributory to my situation.
He then checked me and saw that after all the meds I was only dilated to 1.5 cm, and with the way Izzie was acting he didn't think it was safe to try to go vaginally. I agreed, and we went ahead and did the c-section. By this point I was exhausted. To put it into perspective, they had to prep shave me (yes down there) and I slept through it. Then my manager wheeled me into the OR (did I ever mention that the hospital where I had Izzie is also the hospital where I work, and I work in Day Surgery? So the people in the OR are my co-workers? Yeah. Fun, huh? My boss and other co-workers saw my junk. Sigh...) I was half awake through a lot of the OR preparation but I remember telling them I could feel my legs and move them, despite being given a spinal dose of meds through my epidural. They said it was OK and that I would kick in soon. I said OK. I also remember being able to feel being prepped with the cold iodine solution.
Next thing I know Aaron is next to me, the blue sterile sheets are up and we're starting the c-section. I said "Ooh, I can feel that". They told me "Yes, you will feel a lot of pressure." But after a few seconds I was like, "Ow, ow ow, it hurts." I kept grimacing and complaining. I felt a hot burn at the same time that I heard the cautery machine go off and knew something was up. I told them I felt burning. They also used utensils like shoe horns to keep the incision open, and I felt it stretch my skin and click into place, complaining while it was going on. I was told if I kept having sensation that I would have to be put under general anesthesia. I told them to keep going because I wanted to be awake, and I wanted Aaron to see his daughter be born. Then I felt pain on my left side and said OUCH!. One of the doctors asked me what I felt, and I told him that he pinched me. No one said anything for a couple seconds, and then I was told again I might have to go under. I told them if they were almost done to just go ahead and do it. It wasn't painful as if I had no medicine at all, it felt like what I imagine it would feel like if I had been operated on my leg or hand after it fell asleep from being laid on wrong. The pain was not as bad as if I was just cut without warning, but it still was not fun. They told me they had only made the skin incision, nothing else had been done yet. So there was no way I was going to be able to make it without being put under, unless I was into severe pain (which I am NOT). I remember telling my boss I was scared, and I think she held my hand. They put the mask on me, pushed on my throat so I didn't vomit and get it in my lungs, and I was out shortly thereafter.
Next thing I know, I wake up to "You have a beautiful baby girl!" from Brady. I try to talk but have an oral airway in my mouth in case I needed to be reintubated. I later learned that I am just FULL of surprises. I was difficult to intubate. They gave me the propofol to knock me out and then couldn't get the ET tube in. They had to use 2 types of blades before they could get my airway in. The prolonged time to intubate me made it so that Izzie was exposed to my medicine, and she was sleepy when she was born. That made her Apgar scores 6 at 1 minute and then 9 at 5 minutes. Turns out she also had the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck twice, which was why I wasn't dilating. She was otherwise fine. Poor baby!
After surgery I needed oxygen for longer than was expected, but I was OK. Turns out I was a difficult intubation because, for lack of better explanation. I am fat and more so because of the pregnancy, have a short neck and a big fat tongue. Now am I or am I not the EPITOME of sex appeal? LMAO. (I would like to use this opportunity to say now that I gained a total of 10 pounds during the pregnancy and now am 25 pounds less than I was when I got pregnant so HA! I wasn't that fat, just unfortunately shaped. Not sure if that makes it better...)
I woke up in the PACU to my manager being my nurse and my coworkers seeing me. It was nice to see friendly faces, even though I was stoned. It must have been weird for them to see a coworker in the place where usually strangers are. But everyone was great. After I was extubated I sounded all hoarse and had to cough, which sucked because I felt like if I coughed I was gonna shoot my uterus out. I remember telling my coworkers that I sounded like a sorority girl that drank and smoked too much. LOL. I shouldn't have been allowed to talk after all those meds!
Then FINALLY I got to see my baby. She was so little and cute. Aaron was holding her. She was all wrapped up in a blanket with a little hat. She looked just like her daddy! Now she looks more like me, but not in the beginning! :)
OK so much for not blogging much. Izzie has been asleep for the last hour and I am going to quit being a fool and go lie down until it's time for her next feed.
In short, Isabella is wonderful, healthy, beautiful and a joy to have. She was worth every poke, prod and tear. I would do it for her all over again without hesitation. I suppose I will do it one more time so I can have a second child. But two is my max, unless I get a multiple pregnancy. Pregnancy does not like my body, although I loved being pregnant.
OK seriously, lying down now!
In a nutshell, Isabella Maria was born on July 13, 2010 at 4:27 AM emergency c-section. Before I go any further, let me paint a picture. The night before the induction I couldn't sleep. I was too excited. And I couldn't sleep all that day because I kept having visitors, plus I was excited, plus the cramps made me uncomfortable. So by the time all this excitement starting happening, I was spent! They induced me with Cytotec pills to ripen my cervix, which worked somewhat. They started at about 8:30AM and by 3:00AM the next morning (after having some pitocin too) I was dilated ALL THE WAY to 1.5 centimeters. Fun. Contractions suck, but I was lucky. Mine never got worse than period cramps. But it was period cramps that I had essentially all day, which never let up and it became extremely irritating. That and sleep deprivation made for a bitter Andrea.
Around 9:00PM they started the pitocin and Izzie almost immediately started acting different. Her heart rate went way high, in the 170-180 range. She is usually 130-150. It was like that for hours. They had my laying on my right side and gave me fluid resuscitation and 100% oxygen to try to make it better. The nurses assured me that sometimes babies react like this to pitocin and that it was OK. I was terrified. All I kept thinking was I went through so much work to get here, I am AT the finish line, you better not kill her now!! At about 11:00PM they gave me my epidural. When I say "they", I actually mean my co-worker Brady. lol. He was great. Great bedside manner. I felt very comfortable with him. Shortly after the epidural was when I had to lay on my right side, which may have contributed to future problems that I'll get into later.
The epidural went into a vein before it went into the right place, so I wonder if some of the meds (one of which was fentanyl, a potent narcotic) got in my blood stream. I am sure if that happened it was a minute amount. But if you add epidural plus the aforementioned sleep deprivation I felt loopy. Like, dreaming while awake, hallucination loopy. I kept waking Aaron up because I felt like I was dying whenever I started to fall asleep. I remember one of the "images" I had in my mind (my awake dreams, for lack of a better expression) was a combination of Will Ferrell and a teddy bear. Really? WTF!
My doctor came in later to check me and I told him I was scared that I did something wrong to cause this. Then I confessed that I had eaten feta cheese during my pregnancy (LMAO, looking back now he probably thought I was INSANE) and that I briefly had a tick on my neck (EEEWWW) over the weekend. I distinctly remember asking him if I could have gotten a "freaky tick disease" or a "feta cheese disease". Then I laughed because feta cheese disease rhymed. He laughed too. He probably wanted to smother me with my pillow. And I don't blame him. LOL. He assured me that the feta cheese in the US is pasteurized so it was OK, and he thinks the brief tick encounter was OK and in no way contributory to my situation.
He then checked me and saw that after all the meds I was only dilated to 1.5 cm, and with the way Izzie was acting he didn't think it was safe to try to go vaginally. I agreed, and we went ahead and did the c-section. By this point I was exhausted. To put it into perspective, they had to prep shave me (yes down there) and I slept through it. Then my manager wheeled me into the OR (did I ever mention that the hospital where I had Izzie is also the hospital where I work, and I work in Day Surgery? So the people in the OR are my co-workers? Yeah. Fun, huh? My boss and other co-workers saw my junk. Sigh...) I was half awake through a lot of the OR preparation but I remember telling them I could feel my legs and move them, despite being given a spinal dose of meds through my epidural. They said it was OK and that I would kick in soon. I said OK. I also remember being able to feel being prepped with the cold iodine solution.
Next thing I know Aaron is next to me, the blue sterile sheets are up and we're starting the c-section. I said "Ooh, I can feel that". They told me "Yes, you will feel a lot of pressure." But after a few seconds I was like, "Ow, ow ow, it hurts." I kept grimacing and complaining. I felt a hot burn at the same time that I heard the cautery machine go off and knew something was up. I told them I felt burning. They also used utensils like shoe horns to keep the incision open, and I felt it stretch my skin and click into place, complaining while it was going on. I was told if I kept having sensation that I would have to be put under general anesthesia. I told them to keep going because I wanted to be awake, and I wanted Aaron to see his daughter be born. Then I felt pain on my left side and said OUCH!. One of the doctors asked me what I felt, and I told him that he pinched me. No one said anything for a couple seconds, and then I was told again I might have to go under. I told them if they were almost done to just go ahead and do it. It wasn't painful as if I had no medicine at all, it felt like what I imagine it would feel like if I had been operated on my leg or hand after it fell asleep from being laid on wrong. The pain was not as bad as if I was just cut without warning, but it still was not fun. They told me they had only made the skin incision, nothing else had been done yet. So there was no way I was going to be able to make it without being put under, unless I was into severe pain (which I am NOT). I remember telling my boss I was scared, and I think she held my hand. They put the mask on me, pushed on my throat so I didn't vomit and get it in my lungs, and I was out shortly thereafter.
Next thing I know, I wake up to "You have a beautiful baby girl!" from Brady. I try to talk but have an oral airway in my mouth in case I needed to be reintubated. I later learned that I am just FULL of surprises. I was difficult to intubate. They gave me the propofol to knock me out and then couldn't get the ET tube in. They had to use 2 types of blades before they could get my airway in. The prolonged time to intubate me made it so that Izzie was exposed to my medicine, and she was sleepy when she was born. That made her Apgar scores 6 at 1 minute and then 9 at 5 minutes. Turns out she also had the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck twice, which was why I wasn't dilating. She was otherwise fine. Poor baby!
After surgery I needed oxygen for longer than was expected, but I was OK. Turns out I was a difficult intubation because, for lack of better explanation. I am fat and more so because of the pregnancy, have a short neck and a big fat tongue. Now am I or am I not the EPITOME of sex appeal? LMAO. (I would like to use this opportunity to say now that I gained a total of 10 pounds during the pregnancy and now am 25 pounds less than I was when I got pregnant so HA! I wasn't that fat, just unfortunately shaped. Not sure if that makes it better...)
I woke up in the PACU to my manager being my nurse and my coworkers seeing me. It was nice to see friendly faces, even though I was stoned. It must have been weird for them to see a coworker in the place where usually strangers are. But everyone was great. After I was extubated I sounded all hoarse and had to cough, which sucked because I felt like if I coughed I was gonna shoot my uterus out. I remember telling my coworkers that I sounded like a sorority girl that drank and smoked too much. LOL. I shouldn't have been allowed to talk after all those meds!
Then FINALLY I got to see my baby. She was so little and cute. Aaron was holding her. She was all wrapped up in a blanket with a little hat. She looked just like her daddy! Now she looks more like me, but not in the beginning! :)
OK so much for not blogging much. Izzie has been asleep for the last hour and I am going to quit being a fool and go lie down until it's time for her next feed.
In short, Isabella is wonderful, healthy, beautiful and a joy to have. She was worth every poke, prod and tear. I would do it for her all over again without hesitation. I suppose I will do it one more time so I can have a second child. But two is my max, unless I get a multiple pregnancy. Pregnancy does not like my body, although I loved being pregnant.
OK seriously, lying down now!
Monday, July 5, 2010
Final Thoughts on Pregnancy
In a week from today I will be in the hospital being induced so I can have my little girl. Time has FLOWN by! I know I thought it would take forever to get here, and now I can definitely say that I was wrong.
It's kinda funny how many emotions I am experiencing right now. I am SOOO excited to meet my baby, see what she looks like, kiss and hug her, etc. I am scared for the labor. I am scared of the responsibility of being another person's eyes and ears for the next however many years of her life... because I am petrified of hurting her. I have wanted this for so long and have finally been blessed with it, but still I am nervous about it. I am a little sad too, because in a way I don't want the pregnancy to be over. I mean, I know I can't live this way forever (and I certainly don't want to either, haha!) but I will miss having her so close to me. I imagine what it will be like when they take her away to weight and measure her, and give her a quick health assessment and it makes me sad because I want to have her with me for those first few minutes. As of right now I know her better than anyone else in the world. Part of me doesn't want to share that. One day I will be her lame ass mom who is embarrassing and so mean and doesn't get it... but right now we're like a little team. I know there will be years of me being cool, and fun, and the best cook ever (poor unknowing soul, haha) but I dread the day when she would rather talk to her friend than her Mom. Am I ridiculous or what? I am literally crying while I type this. Stupid emotional cow. LOL.
It's kinda funny how many emotions I am experiencing right now. I am SOOO excited to meet my baby, see what she looks like, kiss and hug her, etc. I am scared for the labor. I am scared of the responsibility of being another person's eyes and ears for the next however many years of her life... because I am petrified of hurting her. I have wanted this for so long and have finally been blessed with it, but still I am nervous about it. I am a little sad too, because in a way I don't want the pregnancy to be over. I mean, I know I can't live this way forever (and I certainly don't want to either, haha!) but I will miss having her so close to me. I imagine what it will be like when they take her away to weight and measure her, and give her a quick health assessment and it makes me sad because I want to have her with me for those first few minutes. As of right now I know her better than anyone else in the world. Part of me doesn't want to share that. One day I will be her lame ass mom who is embarrassing and so mean and doesn't get it... but right now we're like a little team. I know there will be years of me being cool, and fun, and the best cook ever (poor unknowing soul, haha) but I dread the day when she would rather talk to her friend than her Mom. Am I ridiculous or what? I am literally crying while I type this. Stupid emotional cow. LOL.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Updates on Kiki
On July 12th I will be getting induced, providing Isabella does not make her appearance on her own before that. That is only 36 short days away! Holy crap! Don't get me wrong I can't wait to meet her, and I can't wait to not be in pain anymore, but seriously... this shit is REAL! LOL. In reality I know it has been all along, but now its coming down to the crunch time. It's really going to happen... and its going to be sooner rather than later. I am going to be in some serious pain very soon. Whether it be ripping vaginal pain or lower abdominal incisional pain... there is no way around it. She's coming out, and it is not going to tickle. But even though I haven't actually even met her yet, I already love her and know that is is worth it any pain that's coming my way. I compare this in a way to when you're getting something waxed and the beautician sticks that warm stuff on your skin and attaches the paper to it. Well, you can't walk around with that thing on for the rest of your life. You have officially hit the point of no return. So even though you knowingly walked into the salon requesting this be done... you still think "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuccckkk..." in those moments before she holds your skin taut and RIP! off it comes. But the funny thing is the labor should really be the least of my worries. After that's done, I have a brand new infant who is solely dependent on her father and me. I am a nurse, so I know how to not kill people, (thank sweet baby Jesus) I just hope I don't screw her up in some way. Whenever I make comments on facebook about my concerns people sound pretty convinced that I will indeed not kill or maim my baby. The reassurance is nice. But no matter what people tell me, I am sure I am going to worry. I mean, how can you be a first time parent and NOT worry? It's the biggest, most important job you ever have... I hope that apprehension is a sign of taking it seriously.
I keep having dreams about her. Usually its a baby whose face I do not see, but I dream about holding her. I've had a few labor dreams too, where I go to the bathroom and see blood and know that I am ready to have her, but the pain hasn't started yet. Kinda funny that my brain is not filling out the blanks for me. You'd think my subconscious would try to answer the questions in my mind. Instead it is reiterating to me the things I do not know yet. Like, yep, there is a baby in there. And we don't know what she looks like. And yep, you're gonna have labor pains. But I can't tell you what its going to feel like.
We are just about done preparing for her arrival. This past week we have rearranged the computer room to fit a twin sized bed in there for when our Moms come to visit. We also got the house sprayed for bugs (again) because apparently there is a big flea and tick problem here (yuck) and I don't want to deal with it. So they sprayed the house inside and out. Bear and Harvey are on a pill called comfortis that kills fleas that they take monthly like the heartworm medicine. They are also sporting some new flea and tick collars AND are getting another flea bath on Wednesday. I don't think they have fleas but I also don't want to later discover that I was wrong. The baby's furniture is all put together, clothes are washed, dried, folded and put away, and today I will be cleaning and making her bed. I know her mattress is clean because it is brand new, but it still has to be wiped down with some bleach wipes or else I won't quite be comfortable. I suppose this is all nesting? Now all that is left before she gets here is I would like to rent a carpet cleaner and give the carpet a good once over and get our cars detailed so they are clean for her ride home. Oh, and the birthing class on June 19th, and putting her carseat/stroller combo together soon. My Mommy bag and her diaper bag are both packed too, so we are pretty much ready to go.
We STILL don't have a middle name picked out. Aaron is too damn picky. I like Renee, Joy, Maria, Rose, Grace (but am trying not to steal family names) and Marley. I kinda like Eden and Gianna, too. Aaron hasn't been crazy about any of these, of course. He likes Christine. So do I, but we still aren't completely sold on it. Ugh. The kid HAS to have a full name before we take her home. So that is another thing we are working on.
Until she is born I have to have non-stress tests every Tuesday and Friday, just to make sure everything is OK. I also have weekly doctor appointments and will be having ultrasounds every 2 weeks to check my amniotic fluid index. If she has plenty of amniotic fluid then that is a sign that the placenta is functioning properly. Apparently women with gestational diabetes tend to have problems with the placentas "stroking out" as my doctor put it, and the babies "start dying toward the end of the pregnancy.". So needless to say, bring on the ultrasounds. :)
I am SO incredibly thankful that I could get pregnant, and this has been the best experience of my life, hands-down no doubt about it. But I am beginning to understand why women look forward to the pregnancy being over. I am swollen, my feet and pelvis are sore, I am tired, and I pee constantly.
Last night I think the baby was on my bladder, because I had to pee SO BADLY and it took forever to empty my bladder. I think I could have spit faster than the stream of urine I was able to produce. In the middle of it the stream actually stopped twice and then restarted. It was tortuous! LOL I woke up from falling asleep to TV on the couch, hobbled to the bathroom with only one eye open because I fell asleep in my contacts, and peed for what seemed like an eternity. It felt so unfair- there was SO much in there and my body was so reluctant to let it go. I leaned forward, backwards, sideways, all trying to move the baby off my bladder and let it out. No luck. And of course I didn't close the bathroom door because I was half awake and there was a sense of urgency, so I had to do all this while petting Bear. He loves it when we pet his butt, so I had to pat his ass while trying to relieve the discomfort. I am laughing out loud as I type this now because I can see the humor now that my bladder is empty and both eyes are open... but at the time it was bad sensory overload. LOL. It reminds me of something that might happen on "Everybody Loves Raymond".
I hear the couch calling me. It is time to get off this computer because my feet are swelling more as I sit here, and I feel crampy. Time to relax some more.
I keep having dreams about her. Usually its a baby whose face I do not see, but I dream about holding her. I've had a few labor dreams too, where I go to the bathroom and see blood and know that I am ready to have her, but the pain hasn't started yet. Kinda funny that my brain is not filling out the blanks for me. You'd think my subconscious would try to answer the questions in my mind. Instead it is reiterating to me the things I do not know yet. Like, yep, there is a baby in there. And we don't know what she looks like. And yep, you're gonna have labor pains. But I can't tell you what its going to feel like.
We are just about done preparing for her arrival. This past week we have rearranged the computer room to fit a twin sized bed in there for when our Moms come to visit. We also got the house sprayed for bugs (again) because apparently there is a big flea and tick problem here (yuck) and I don't want to deal with it. So they sprayed the house inside and out. Bear and Harvey are on a pill called comfortis that kills fleas that they take monthly like the heartworm medicine. They are also sporting some new flea and tick collars AND are getting another flea bath on Wednesday. I don't think they have fleas but I also don't want to later discover that I was wrong. The baby's furniture is all put together, clothes are washed, dried, folded and put away, and today I will be cleaning and making her bed. I know her mattress is clean because it is brand new, but it still has to be wiped down with some bleach wipes or else I won't quite be comfortable. I suppose this is all nesting? Now all that is left before she gets here is I would like to rent a carpet cleaner and give the carpet a good once over and get our cars detailed so they are clean for her ride home. Oh, and the birthing class on June 19th, and putting her carseat/stroller combo together soon. My Mommy bag and her diaper bag are both packed too, so we are pretty much ready to go.
We STILL don't have a middle name picked out. Aaron is too damn picky. I like Renee, Joy, Maria, Rose, Grace (but am trying not to steal family names) and Marley. I kinda like Eden and Gianna, too. Aaron hasn't been crazy about any of these, of course. He likes Christine. So do I, but we still aren't completely sold on it. Ugh. The kid HAS to have a full name before we take her home. So that is another thing we are working on.
Until she is born I have to have non-stress tests every Tuesday and Friday, just to make sure everything is OK. I also have weekly doctor appointments and will be having ultrasounds every 2 weeks to check my amniotic fluid index. If she has plenty of amniotic fluid then that is a sign that the placenta is functioning properly. Apparently women with gestational diabetes tend to have problems with the placentas "stroking out" as my doctor put it, and the babies "start dying toward the end of the pregnancy.". So needless to say, bring on the ultrasounds. :)
I am SO incredibly thankful that I could get pregnant, and this has been the best experience of my life, hands-down no doubt about it. But I am beginning to understand why women look forward to the pregnancy being over. I am swollen, my feet and pelvis are sore, I am tired, and I pee constantly.
Last night I think the baby was on my bladder, because I had to pee SO BADLY and it took forever to empty my bladder. I think I could have spit faster than the stream of urine I was able to produce. In the middle of it the stream actually stopped twice and then restarted. It was tortuous! LOL I woke up from falling asleep to TV on the couch, hobbled to the bathroom with only one eye open because I fell asleep in my contacts, and peed for what seemed like an eternity. It felt so unfair- there was SO much in there and my body was so reluctant to let it go. I leaned forward, backwards, sideways, all trying to move the baby off my bladder and let it out. No luck. And of course I didn't close the bathroom door because I was half awake and there was a sense of urgency, so I had to do all this while petting Bear. He loves it when we pet his butt, so I had to pat his ass while trying to relieve the discomfort. I am laughing out loud as I type this now because I can see the humor now that my bladder is empty and both eyes are open... but at the time it was bad sensory overload. LOL. It reminds me of something that might happen on "Everybody Loves Raymond".
I hear the couch calling me. It is time to get off this computer because my feet are swelling more as I sit here, and I feel crampy. Time to relax some more.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
What a couple of weeks!
I have meant to blog several times in the last few weeks and have just not found the time/motivation to do it. So much has gone on!
Last Saturday my real estate agent called me and told me that my mortgage lender was ready to go through the short sale, as long as I sign a $20,000 promissary note. I would have to pay it over the next 15 years. That money could be a college fund for Isabella, or buy the new car I need, or it could be well spent in day care, diapers, etc. It is just not an option to pay these people that kind of money in this kind of economy. So needless to say, I am currently exploring other options and have seen a lawyer. I have another appointment with him on Wednesday. This likely will not end well. That's probably all I will be willing to discuss in a blog due to the nature of the situation along with my very hurt pride.
This past Tuesday Aaron went to work, just like every other morning. At 6:00AM my phone rang, it was Aaron. He called and told me that his car was pretty much fucked, that he was driving behind a truck and something fell off the truck and hit his car. His car made it to the side of the road and then stopped right away. So, I called work and drove out to get him. When I got there I just about died. In my head I imagined a F-150. No, it was an 18 wheeler. Apparently the guy driving the truck had his breaks fixed the day before, but the asses who did it did not tighten any bolts. Four of the bolts holding the tires on were completely stripped, and he had 4 blown tires. And the thing that fell off this guy's truck was apparently a part of his break or rotor, was about a foot long and about 4 inches wide of pure metal. Thank God it went under his car and destroyed his motor rather than through his wind shield and ruined his skull. A distance of a few feet is probably what made the difference between life and death for him. Not even being over dramatic here, if that thing hit him in the face going 70 miles an hour, he would not have survived that. Good Lord. I wanted to fucking strangle the truck driver, even though it wasn't really his fault I guess. He should have been more apologetic. He should have been kissing our asses. Providing he is telling the truth and it was a shop that did his breaks I know there is no reason to really blame him... but it was his truck that could have killed Aaron. I wanted to take a baseball bat to his face.
On the bright side, Aaron is fine. On the bright side again, I put rental coverage on Aaron's car insurance policy about a month ago... and thank God I did. He has had the rental since Tuesday, which we would have not been able to afford otherwise. I don't know if they have even started working on the car. State Farm is not sending an estimator out there to look at it until probably tomorrow. Not going to work is not an option for him, neither is it for me to not to go to work. Since we have no one here to depend on, I am glad we spent the few extra bucks per month on the insurance. I HATE not having friends or family here to depend on when shit hits the fan. But I digress, that is a whole different paragraph all together.
We have been calling our landlord for the last three week days in a row asking him to send someone over to look at the house. It was very poorly built and flies are able to crawl in and out at their convenience through our shitty, cheap, substandard windows. With a baby coming in 8-9 weeks, I am not cool with flies. Well I am not anyway, but I swear I am going to have a shit fit if I find a fly on my baby's bottle or binky. But I am sick of his bullshit and empty promises, so last night I went and bought caulk for the windows and door sealant for the uneven, shitty, substandard doors. It cost about $27, and I think I will subtract that amount from my next rent check and include the receipt in the envelope to give him the proof. Id that too ballsy? I think not. I think I am sick of this damn house. I think I am sick of asking for things and not getting them. I am sick of being fucked with. I definitely feel like a ticking time bomb over here.
The day after Aaron's car incident he was putting together and baby's bedroom furniture and hurt his back. So there the nursery is, filled with boxes, wood and other crap and most definitely NOT ready for an infant. It is stressing me the hell out! I want the room done! My baby deserves to have her room pretty and ready for her and there is nothing I can do about it. Aaron is working nights this month and is done about 12 hours for each shift he works. Damnit.
Between the car and the house(old house AND new house... PS there are several details I left out of this blog regarding the old house situation because I don't know exactly who reads this and who doesn't... ) I have been under a large amount of stress. Which brings me to the next dilemma. Since there is no explanation why it happened I am wondering if the stress has brought it on. This past weekend we have had storms, including some hail. Aaron called me at about 2AM and told me to pull my car into the car port so my car did not get hit with hail if we had any. So I went out there quickly, half running because it was drizzling and only one contact was working (fell asleep in them again) and I couldn't really be on snake/tarantula lookout. (They may not be in my yard, but I do NOT want to risk it. YUCK.) I pulled my car up and went inside to go back to sleep. I made a pit-stop at the bathroom and noticed a spot of bright red blood. It was about the size of the tip of my pinky finger. So no it was not big but it was enough to scare me. So I called the OB department at the hospital where I worked and they told me to come in. I was there for a couple hours and they sent me home saying everything was fine and they don't know what the bleeding was from. But I was not in labor, having had no contractions in the 2 hours I was on the monitor. The baby looked fine, I was fine besides being a little dehydrated. I had no ketones in my urine, which is good because ever since the gestational diabetes started I have had ketones. So hopefully that means I am on the road to having more controlled sugars and will stop losing weight. (So far I have lost 8-10 pounds, which the doctors are not happy about.)
On top of all this, the homesickness is just as bad now as it was when we first got here. It is not getting easier. Sometimes I think it is getting harder. Every time my tummy moves and no one is there to see it or feel it, it reminds me we are here alone and have no support system. When Isabella is born she is not going to know her family. She won't recognize her own grandparents when she sees them, not to mention her aunts, uncles, cousins, etc. It breaks my heart. I blame part of the reason why I am not as close to my family up in Michigan to being in England for the first few years, so no one was able to bond with me as an infant. All the other cousins were born and raised up there, and they are all closer to each other than I am. Don't get me wrong, we all love each other, I just didn't grow up up there and there is a difference. I don't want her to miss out like I did because she is so far away from her family, too. I feel like it is starting to affect me. I feel myself pulling away from potential social situations, which kinda scares me. Being a nurse I know the signs to watch out for regarding depression and I sometimes wonder if that is starting to happen to me. I have no idea how it couldn't really... I am isolated most of the time. I rarely see Aaron, and I never see any one else unless I am at work. And I am not particularly close to any of them. They are nice, but they are not my people. It's too different here. I want to go home. I can't say that enough.
I was on the phone with a very close friend tonight who was telling me about how it was so hard for her to juggle all the things she wants to do in her weekends, and how there is not enough time in the day to do all the social things she wants to do. I found it incredibly hard to feel sorry for her. Telling me that is like complaining to a starving person that you burnt the roof of your mouth on your sandwich. Oh, poor thing has so many fun things to do that there is not enough time to do them all. The highlight of my weekend was putting clothes on and going to Wal-Mart. I am not kidding. Well that and seeing Aaron and sitting with him for that half hour before he goes to sleep. That's when I get to cook for him. Yay. Not that I don't want my friend to tell me about her life, but damn. lol. I do want to hear about it. But hearing about all the fun people are having without us just makes me feel forgotten. But I wouldn't want people to not do things because we're not there. I don't know... I can't explain it. All I know is it is probably a lot of selfishness and self pity on my part. But at least I can admit it. I make no promises that it will change. Not till we come home again.
OK reading what I wrote is actually making me feel worse so I am going to quit while I am ahead! lol. I have to be at work at 5:45.... so I better get ready for bed.
Last Saturday my real estate agent called me and told me that my mortgage lender was ready to go through the short sale, as long as I sign a $20,000 promissary note. I would have to pay it over the next 15 years. That money could be a college fund for Isabella, or buy the new car I need, or it could be well spent in day care, diapers, etc. It is just not an option to pay these people that kind of money in this kind of economy. So needless to say, I am currently exploring other options and have seen a lawyer. I have another appointment with him on Wednesday. This likely will not end well. That's probably all I will be willing to discuss in a blog due to the nature of the situation along with my very hurt pride.
This past Tuesday Aaron went to work, just like every other morning. At 6:00AM my phone rang, it was Aaron. He called and told me that his car was pretty much fucked, that he was driving behind a truck and something fell off the truck and hit his car. His car made it to the side of the road and then stopped right away. So, I called work and drove out to get him. When I got there I just about died. In my head I imagined a F-150. No, it was an 18 wheeler. Apparently the guy driving the truck had his breaks fixed the day before, but the asses who did it did not tighten any bolts. Four of the bolts holding the tires on were completely stripped, and he had 4 blown tires. And the thing that fell off this guy's truck was apparently a part of his break or rotor, was about a foot long and about 4 inches wide of pure metal. Thank God it went under his car and destroyed his motor rather than through his wind shield and ruined his skull. A distance of a few feet is probably what made the difference between life and death for him. Not even being over dramatic here, if that thing hit him in the face going 70 miles an hour, he would not have survived that. Good Lord. I wanted to fucking strangle the truck driver, even though it wasn't really his fault I guess. He should have been more apologetic. He should have been kissing our asses. Providing he is telling the truth and it was a shop that did his breaks I know there is no reason to really blame him... but it was his truck that could have killed Aaron. I wanted to take a baseball bat to his face.
On the bright side, Aaron is fine. On the bright side again, I put rental coverage on Aaron's car insurance policy about a month ago... and thank God I did. He has had the rental since Tuesday, which we would have not been able to afford otherwise. I don't know if they have even started working on the car. State Farm is not sending an estimator out there to look at it until probably tomorrow. Not going to work is not an option for him, neither is it for me to not to go to work. Since we have no one here to depend on, I am glad we spent the few extra bucks per month on the insurance. I HATE not having friends or family here to depend on when shit hits the fan. But I digress, that is a whole different paragraph all together.
We have been calling our landlord for the last three week days in a row asking him to send someone over to look at the house. It was very poorly built and flies are able to crawl in and out at their convenience through our shitty, cheap, substandard windows. With a baby coming in 8-9 weeks, I am not cool with flies. Well I am not anyway, but I swear I am going to have a shit fit if I find a fly on my baby's bottle or binky. But I am sick of his bullshit and empty promises, so last night I went and bought caulk for the windows and door sealant for the uneven, shitty, substandard doors. It cost about $27, and I think I will subtract that amount from my next rent check and include the receipt in the envelope to give him the proof. Id that too ballsy? I think not. I think I am sick of this damn house. I think I am sick of asking for things and not getting them. I am sick of being fucked with. I definitely feel like a ticking time bomb over here.
The day after Aaron's car incident he was putting together and baby's bedroom furniture and hurt his back. So there the nursery is, filled with boxes, wood and other crap and most definitely NOT ready for an infant. It is stressing me the hell out! I want the room done! My baby deserves to have her room pretty and ready for her and there is nothing I can do about it. Aaron is working nights this month and is done about 12 hours for each shift he works. Damnit.
Between the car and the house(old house AND new house... PS there are several details I left out of this blog regarding the old house situation because I don't know exactly who reads this and who doesn't... ) I have been under a large amount of stress. Which brings me to the next dilemma. Since there is no explanation why it happened I am wondering if the stress has brought it on. This past weekend we have had storms, including some hail. Aaron called me at about 2AM and told me to pull my car into the car port so my car did not get hit with hail if we had any. So I went out there quickly, half running because it was drizzling and only one contact was working (fell asleep in them again) and I couldn't really be on snake/tarantula lookout. (They may not be in my yard, but I do NOT want to risk it. YUCK.) I pulled my car up and went inside to go back to sleep. I made a pit-stop at the bathroom and noticed a spot of bright red blood. It was about the size of the tip of my pinky finger. So no it was not big but it was enough to scare me. So I called the OB department at the hospital where I worked and they told me to come in. I was there for a couple hours and they sent me home saying everything was fine and they don't know what the bleeding was from. But I was not in labor, having had no contractions in the 2 hours I was on the monitor. The baby looked fine, I was fine besides being a little dehydrated. I had no ketones in my urine, which is good because ever since the gestational diabetes started I have had ketones. So hopefully that means I am on the road to having more controlled sugars and will stop losing weight. (So far I have lost 8-10 pounds, which the doctors are not happy about.)
On top of all this, the homesickness is just as bad now as it was when we first got here. It is not getting easier. Sometimes I think it is getting harder. Every time my tummy moves and no one is there to see it or feel it, it reminds me we are here alone and have no support system. When Isabella is born she is not going to know her family. She won't recognize her own grandparents when she sees them, not to mention her aunts, uncles, cousins, etc. It breaks my heart. I blame part of the reason why I am not as close to my family up in Michigan to being in England for the first few years, so no one was able to bond with me as an infant. All the other cousins were born and raised up there, and they are all closer to each other than I am. Don't get me wrong, we all love each other, I just didn't grow up up there and there is a difference. I don't want her to miss out like I did because she is so far away from her family, too. I feel like it is starting to affect me. I feel myself pulling away from potential social situations, which kinda scares me. Being a nurse I know the signs to watch out for regarding depression and I sometimes wonder if that is starting to happen to me. I have no idea how it couldn't really... I am isolated most of the time. I rarely see Aaron, and I never see any one else unless I am at work. And I am not particularly close to any of them. They are nice, but they are not my people. It's too different here. I want to go home. I can't say that enough.
I was on the phone with a very close friend tonight who was telling me about how it was so hard for her to juggle all the things she wants to do in her weekends, and how there is not enough time in the day to do all the social things she wants to do. I found it incredibly hard to feel sorry for her. Telling me that is like complaining to a starving person that you burnt the roof of your mouth on your sandwich. Oh, poor thing has so many fun things to do that there is not enough time to do them all. The highlight of my weekend was putting clothes on and going to Wal-Mart. I am not kidding. Well that and seeing Aaron and sitting with him for that half hour before he goes to sleep. That's when I get to cook for him. Yay. Not that I don't want my friend to tell me about her life, but damn. lol. I do want to hear about it. But hearing about all the fun people are having without us just makes me feel forgotten. But I wouldn't want people to not do things because we're not there. I don't know... I can't explain it. All I know is it is probably a lot of selfishness and self pity on my part. But at least I can admit it. I make no promises that it will change. Not till we come home again.
OK reading what I wrote is actually making me feel worse so I am going to quit while I am ahead! lol. I have to be at work at 5:45.... so I better get ready for bed.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
What's been going on
These last couple weeks have been very busy. The days were filled with preparation of going to Michigan for our first visit home since we moved, as well as doctor's appointments, Aaron's car breaking down and trying to find someone in Uvalde who knows what to do with a Mazda, so on and so forth. It was busy, fun, and now wholly depressing since we are back home now and back to the regular grind. I am SO SICK of being ALONE. I miss my husband and our friends and family! Being in a house by myself is NOT how I like to spend my time. I am too social for this life I have now! People tell expectant couples to "live it up" before the baby gets here... but I would like to know how the hell I am supposed to do that when I am in a little town where I only know my co-workers, and they have full lives without extra time to entertain my sorry ass? In addition to this, Aaron and I rarely get to see each other. I cried more about that on our way back to Texas than I did about leaving everybody. The thought of coming back to this empty house while Aaron works just broke my heart. People might think "Oh well go out and make some friends!" Well that would be easier if there was somewhere to go to do that, or if the people in my town and I could both be fluent in the same language. It's not always the case. (Granted yes most young people to my knowledge are bilingual or just speak English...) I want our friends. Our families. I don't want to substitute for other peoples' friends and families. Granted the few friends we have here are great, I am not referring to them. Anyway... I could go on bitching about this for hours. I refuse to call Texas "home" because there is no way that home should be this unhappy. If I talk about home, you can assume I am talking about Michigan. If I talk about where I am now, or where I currently work, sleep, etc., that is Texas. I have tried to be positive, no I am not talking myself out of being comfortable here, no it's not a self-fulfilling prophecy, if you think that it's just because you haven't been here yet! I wanna go HOME. Yes my job and house here are OK... but it's not home. I could have a mansion here and feel just as bad because there is no one to share it with. :(
Anyway... so more fun stuff, on April 20th I was diagnosed with Gestational Diabetes. Yay! A day before I start my vacation I learn I get to poke myself with a needle 4+ times a day AND will likely be on insulin! Waa-Hoo! Throw in only having one car, sitting outside waiting for my husband who got stuck in traffic on his way home from work to pick me and and me ultimately calling a co-worker to pick me up while weeping like a crazy woman, it was a great day. Fabulous. But on the bright side, getting my equipment was pretty easy, 100% free thanks to my insurance, and it didn't hurt nearly as bad as I thought it would. I made Aaron poke my finger for the first time, but after that I do it and its fine. I mean, I don't like it, but I will live. My numbers are high... fasting blood sugar should be less than 110 and this morning it was 133... even after a diabetic diet dinner (shit) but at least I am aware of it and am trying very hard (most of the time) to make the right decisions. It's not easy. I bought all this healthy crap yesterday after seeing the dietician. Basically the more fiber I have in my diet the more even my glucose will be. So I bought hippie wheat bread that has 5 grams of fiber per slice in it. It smells like wood, no joke. Opening the bag in the morning to make toast reminds me of being in shop class. But, no splinters yet so I will continue to eat it. She wants me to drink 24 ounces of milk a day which sounds LOVELY... I will happily oblige. Anything that is not water makes me happy!
Well I will blog more later, I have to get in the shower and get ready for my 11:20 OB appt. I have to shave and stuff. Since I am officially in my 3rd trimester I don't know what to expect. But I should at least be prepared in case he has to check my cervix. Ugh I hope not as he is a co-worker... LOL I don't know why I am worried about him checking my cervix when 1. he has already given me a pelvic exam and 2. he will be delivering my child and I will likely shit on his shoes. Ah well. The less amount of times he has to look at my genitals the happier I am.
Anyway... so more fun stuff, on April 20th I was diagnosed with Gestational Diabetes. Yay! A day before I start my vacation I learn I get to poke myself with a needle 4+ times a day AND will likely be on insulin! Waa-Hoo! Throw in only having one car, sitting outside waiting for my husband who got stuck in traffic on his way home from work to pick me and and me ultimately calling a co-worker to pick me up while weeping like a crazy woman, it was a great day. Fabulous. But on the bright side, getting my equipment was pretty easy, 100% free thanks to my insurance, and it didn't hurt nearly as bad as I thought it would. I made Aaron poke my finger for the first time, but after that I do it and its fine. I mean, I don't like it, but I will live. My numbers are high... fasting blood sugar should be less than 110 and this morning it was 133... even after a diabetic diet dinner (shit) but at least I am aware of it and am trying very hard (most of the time) to make the right decisions. It's not easy. I bought all this healthy crap yesterday after seeing the dietician. Basically the more fiber I have in my diet the more even my glucose will be. So I bought hippie wheat bread that has 5 grams of fiber per slice in it. It smells like wood, no joke. Opening the bag in the morning to make toast reminds me of being in shop class. But, no splinters yet so I will continue to eat it. She wants me to drink 24 ounces of milk a day which sounds LOVELY... I will happily oblige. Anything that is not water makes me happy!
Well I will blog more later, I have to get in the shower and get ready for my 11:20 OB appt. I have to shave and stuff. Since I am officially in my 3rd trimester I don't know what to expect. But I should at least be prepared in case he has to check my cervix. Ugh I hope not as he is a co-worker... LOL I don't know why I am worried about him checking my cervix when 1. he has already given me a pelvic exam and 2. he will be delivering my child and I will likely shit on his shoes. Ah well. The less amount of times he has to look at my genitals the happier I am.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Just some random thoughts.
I was listening to my ipod a few days ago and a Marilyn Manson (love!!!) song came on, so I blasted it as loud as my ears could handle. It reminded me of driving to one of my high risk appointments in San Antonio. I found a radio station there that literally played one ass-kicking song after another, and I was BLARING it with the windows down. For a few minutes I didn't think about home, or being sad, or anything negative. I was just loving it! But I kinda giggled to myself when I got out of the car in case anyone happened to be watching. Out of the car with the blaring heavy metal comes an obviously pregnant woman waddling to her doctors appointment. hahaha. I bet it looked amusing.
Then I thought about it. When I have the baby, I won't be able to blare the music when we are driving together, it'll frighten her. Then for a brief moment I *slightly* mourned the loss of that part of my life. I know I will get it back again one day. I know it sounds and is trivial, but lately my jollies are few and far between. In Uvalde we really don't get a radio station that isn't Tejano or static 50% of the time. So when I actually get a radio station that doesn't play crap AND that plays songs I like, I like to play it loud. :) Obviously having my baby and not scarring her for life is worth not playing the radio loud (I am not 15 anymore, lol) but it did make me realize (again) that I will have to lose/neglect certain parts of my personality in order to cultivate another. But I already know that it will be well worth it. Even admitting this makes me feel selfish and horrible. But I guess it's better to realize the limitations of the life I am about to embark on now than to learn because I did something bad, right?
And I am sure that the Wiggles will be JUST as gratifying as the Lest We Forget CD. :)
On a completely different note... I went to Church today for the first time in well over a year. (Bad me.) But hey I went and I enjoyed it. It's an Episcopalian Church that is less than a mile from my house. It was so similar to the Church we were married in back home that it almost made me teary eyed! But I had a good time. Aaron is not a churh-goer, so I did go by myself, but I met my co-worker Shanna and her family there. They were all very nice. It was a good experience and I hope to go back again soon and try to go regularly.
After Eucharist we sat down while the rest of the people went up and we sat in the pews and had some quiet/prayer time. They started playing a song and the first few motes of it sounded like "What if God was one of us?" by Joan Osborne and I almost lost it! It took almost everything in me not to LMAO!!! :)
OK well I am going to attempt to do house work, but more than likely will end up watching TV. Hope you all have a great Easter!
Then I thought about it. When I have the baby, I won't be able to blare the music when we are driving together, it'll frighten her. Then for a brief moment I *slightly* mourned the loss of that part of my life. I know I will get it back again one day. I know it sounds and is trivial, but lately my jollies are few and far between. In Uvalde we really don't get a radio station that isn't Tejano or static 50% of the time. So when I actually get a radio station that doesn't play crap AND that plays songs I like, I like to play it loud. :) Obviously having my baby and not scarring her for life is worth not playing the radio loud (I am not 15 anymore, lol) but it did make me realize (again) that I will have to lose/neglect certain parts of my personality in order to cultivate another. But I already know that it will be well worth it. Even admitting this makes me feel selfish and horrible. But I guess it's better to realize the limitations of the life I am about to embark on now than to learn because I did something bad, right?
And I am sure that the Wiggles will be JUST as gratifying as the Lest We Forget CD. :)
On a completely different note... I went to Church today for the first time in well over a year. (Bad me.) But hey I went and I enjoyed it. It's an Episcopalian Church that is less than a mile from my house. It was so similar to the Church we were married in back home that it almost made me teary eyed! But I had a good time. Aaron is not a churh-goer, so I did go by myself, but I met my co-worker Shanna and her family there. They were all very nice. It was a good experience and I hope to go back again soon and try to go regularly.
After Eucharist we sat down while the rest of the people went up and we sat in the pews and had some quiet/prayer time. They started playing a song and the first few motes of it sounded like "What if God was one of us?" by Joan Osborne and I almost lost it! It took almost everything in me not to LMAO!!! :)
OK well I am going to attempt to do house work, but more than likely will end up watching TV. Hope you all have a great Easter!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
