As the Belly Grows...

I admit, very few people consider me "old" but that doesn't make me feel any younger.  Don't get me wrong, I LOVE being pregnant.  The kicks and wiggles, the belly bump and yes, even the boob pain makes me feel a part of something so far beyond myself it is awe inspiring.  Still, I must admit I feel as if I am repeatedly taking a beating from a Mack truck.  It is all worth it though I may whine a little and rant a lot.  When I see that beautiful face nothing that has happened in the last nine months will matter much anymore. 

Just the other night I realized that with only 4 1/2 weeks left, I am SO not prepared!  I have no hospital bag set up, have yet to preregister at the hospital,  there is no designated "baby space" aside from the crib I made Jason put up last week and I have not yet talked to the kids much about how their lives will change around here with a fragile little baby around.  I need to get my shit together. Good Lord!  I don't even have an infant car seat!!  Is this what happens when you get knocked up for the third time?  Do you drop the whole boyscout motto of "be prepared?"  With the first, I was a nutcase about having everything set up.  With the second I was just slightly less nutty (probably because I already had most of what I needed), yet here I am a few weeks away from introducing this new life to the world and I haven't even gotten my room reorganized so that we can put up a co-sleeper!!  Hang on while I smack myself!

Ok, better.

At least the girls' room is organized and decorated in Felicia's pinks and our new angel's purples.  That is good, right?  Another high point, I have not killed anyone yet.  (Husbands don't count, do they?)  Can I really make it through three whole pregnancies without knocking someone out?  An amazing feat for sure.  Though, I must admit there have been a few people who I have come across in the last few months who deserve a good whoopin'.  Hmmm, I am proud of me! 

All that aside, I am amused by how the kids are taking the whole pregnant mommy thing. 

Kenny gets upset because he can't cuddle with me like he used to.  "Mommy, is it June yet cause we have to get the baby out.  Your belly is so big it is pushing me off the couch!!"  Boy, do I feel pretty.  One of my favorite Kenny-isms, "Mama, when the baby comes out she can sleep with me so you can sleep gooder in your bed in case another baby wants to grow there."  LMAO  I just about passed out laughing at that one.  While we were at the ultrasound, watching the baby images on a large flat screen tv...,"I like the baby shadows but I am bored, can we change the channel to SpongeBob?"  Nothing we came up with convinced him that the channel couldn't be changed. 

Felicia takes things a little different.  She is possessed with "mommy's baby" in my tummy.  She will suddenly stop what she is doing and run up to kiss my belly.  Sometimes she will rub my belly and say, "Hi baby."  It is so damn sweet!!  You ask her where mama's baby is and she instantly replies, "In the Tummy!"  She got a baby with a bottle for Christmas and recently has discovered the joy of feeding it and walking it around.  However, when she is done with it she drops it on the floor or tosses it in the corner and moves on to her My Little Ponies.

I am happy we are adding to our little family.  However, I am scared shitless (go ahead and insert a hemorrhoid joke here)?  Is the world ready for THREE children raised by the likes of me?

Are you Kidding ME!

I had hoped to keep my blog going on a more consistent basis for this pregnancy.  Not only am I hormonal, but I have two sweet little shadows who could fill enough story space to write a book.  Instead, not long after my last post the crap hit the fan...and the carpeting. 

So, we found a house in town.  A great place.  We gave the owners the deposit, set ourselves to move in.  We had one concession.  Replace the carpeting.  February 13th we picked up the keys and headed over with a truck load of stuff.  We dumped it in the garage and proceeded to make more trips.  Eventually I made it in the house.  THEY didn't replace the carpet.  When I called the owners they swore up and down that the carpet was sanitary, safe.  We stayed one night.  We didn't unpack a damn thing.  We slept on the couches, curled around each other.  Kenny and I both got sick. 

The next morning while shoving things into my truck to head back to our old place a neighbor came to introduce himself.  We asked him about the previous tenants.  He informed us that they used to lock their FOUR dogs in the house for FOUR OR FIVE days at a time while they left town.  No wonder the carpet was so gross.  No wonder Kenny and I got sick....asthmatics can't take that crap.  Literally. 

Long story short, we are back at the old place.  We are staying.  I don't want to go through any of that again. The landlord here accepted us back with a huge sigh of relief and open arms.  We spent too much money (lawyer, environment testing etc) just to get our deposit back and have the rental agreement voided.  It was crazy.  The owners kept insisting there was nothing wrong with the carpet!  I gave them the proof and they shut up fast.  These people who got all gooey over my kids honestly thought it would be safe for them and for a BABY to crawl around on that toxic mess!

So, here we are in the latter part of April.  I am still trying to put my house back together and prep for the baby.  I am nesting like crazy.  My sciatic nerve is making my right leg go numb and my back is killing me.  However, this little angel in my tummy is just dancing away everyday.  She loves to move.  I can't help but smile every time I get one organ or another sucker punched by the little boxer.  

We are having a girl (just in case I didn't mention it before) and she is growing strong.  It is me that seems weak.  This old body is groaning and moaning as my baby belly grows bigger and bigger. Now that things are settling down I should be able to get back to my blog.  If anyone is still interested. :)

Wiggles and Urges

As of today I have officially been knocked up for 19 weeks.  I have made it to the halfway point of pregnancy and things are getting a lot better.  Well.  Kinda. 

See, next week I will be going off to meet my third Obgyn.  Doctor "Hole in the Head" who I saw at first pissed me off. No one treats me like some fainting flower.

I moved along the line to Doctor "Ice Cold Bitch" who is only walking normal today because my husband was there to stop me from breaking her legs.  This woman actually questioned my love for my baby just because I questioned a procedure she suggested I undergo.  In one conversation that lasted all of 6 minutes she referenced "if you really care about the baby," or "if you want to have a healthy baby"...etc about 9 times.  Then, she had the nerve to ask me why my hands were balled into fists and why there were tears in my eyes as she again accused me of not caring about my unborn child.  That is when I started to spring for her throat.  Jason, being a rather intelligent being for a man, was smart enough to come hug me and at the same time keep me pinned to the edge of the table.  I fought him.  I saw red.  I had the plan all worked out.  Easy, maim the witch and then blame it on hormones.  But alas, I settled for a few choice words that ran along the lines of "No arctic bitch is gonna taint my child by being in the room when said child comes into this world."

So on to Obgyn #3.  Hmm.  We shall see how he treats and reacts to someone like me. 

I am happy to report that the panic and anxiety is fading and this little wonderful angelic creature is dancing like crazy in my tummy.  Cherry Slurpee's seem to be the favorite.  :)  I can't help but relax and grin and just thank my lucky stars every time I am blessed with the flutters and wiggles. We ordered the home Doppler thingie and I listen to that perfect little thump-ity every chance I get.  Even the kids get excited.  Well, Kenny does.  Felicia looks at me like I am giving myself up to be a science experiment every time I pull the thing out and turn it on. 

I won't go into details....I am sure you don't want to know them....but I was worried about the lack of um.."urge" that I seemed to be addicted to during the first two pregnancies.  That "urge," although later than I expected, are more um...um....well....um....Potent than before.  I am sure you understand.  ;)

Things are otherwise well in our little house. We will be moving to town the middle of February.  It will be good for everyone of us to not be so isolated out here.  The house is bigger and there is no real traffic so I think it will be a good thing.  Besides...I will be closer to those Cherry Slurpee's. 

Pride, Frustration and Thump-ity

I have never pretended to have the best self esteem.  However, I do have pride in a few things.  I consider myself a strong person, a smart person (ok, the kids have stolen some of my IQ points) and a fairly decent mom.  So I ask myself what the hell is wrong with me?  Why can't I give up this stupid anxiety and these fears of dying and leaving my kids without my love?  There is no explanation that I can accept.  I have heard theories from various people, doctors, family and friends but these people don't live in this body.  They have no idea how frustrating it is for me to lose the strength in my convictions, in myself.

Over the last couple of weeks I have been able to hold the anxiety at bay, for the most part.  Today, the bay flooded.  Tomorrow is my appointment at the OB where I get to drink that icky glucose crap so that the doctor can tell me my chances of getting gestational diabetes.  I am scared.  I won't lie.  I am very afraid that the numbers won't come back in my favor. Dealing with the situation, whatever the outcome is something I am confident I can handle yet I fear the diagnosis anyway.  So many things are different with this pregnancy as opposed to the previous two.  I am not losing weight, I am freaking out like a nutcase, I have no aversions to foods, I am not getting that "happy" feeling and my energy has not increased.  Either something is...or I have convinced myself that something is wrong. 

If I hear "Every pregnancy is different" one more time I am gonna get my BB gun and start shooting off people's toes!!  I understand that every pregnancy will have it's own way of progressing and affecting the mommy...but in my case, EVERYTHING seems to be different.  Urgh!!  I am so frustrated. 

Right after Christmas I ordered the home doppler monitor thingie so we can hear the baby's heartbeat at home.  It came in the mail last week.  I ripped open the package and tried to find the baby...to no avail.  I spent the afternoon freaking out (which has become normal)!  Later that night, after spending the evening as a zombie, Jason urged me to try again.  I did.....guess what.  I heard it.  That sweetest sound of sounds.  Thump-ity thump-ity thump-ity....  Baby's rate was a perfect 150.  The tears rolled out of my eyes as I clung to the speaker thanking God.  Inside my belly is a strong little heartbeat, a beautiful heartbeat that I am responsible for.  I am blessed.  Frustrated but very very blessed. I am looking forward to a Saturday morning of tickle fights and cuddles on my bed surrounded by THREE angelic critters and love. 

Stunning

Ahh, I am sure that any readers believe me to be a lazy blogger.  Well, ok, I have gotten a little lazy but that does not explain my absence over the last two months.  Sometime in mid September I got myself knocked-up.  Pregnant.  With child.  In the family way. 

Are you screeching with excitement yet?  Well, don't start celebrating the opportunity to follow along live as I go through another nine months of hormones, attitude and sweet stories.  At least not yet.  So far this pregnancy has been a bit tough.  A lot tough. 

Around the time this bun was put in the oven, I started to have anxiety attacks....soon to morph into full on panic attacks which brought the EMT's to my house many times, not to mention prompting me to visit many moronic doctors who deserve to have their stethascopes shoved where the sun doesn't shine.  My family spent the majority of October in a state of chaos and frustration.  I honestly thought I was going to die.  Regardless if the "pains" or "concerns" were in my head or true in feeling...not one of those so-called educated bags of self-rightous gas ever thought to perform a full blood test or even a simple urine test to check out every possiblity even after I asked, begged and insisted. 

It was my sister who told me to take a pregnancy test just as a precaution to rule it out before my next appointment which was sure to result in yet another medication.  I did.  That damn stick turned colors before all the urine was soaked in!  Does that mean I am SERIOUSLY pregnant?  I took two more tests.  Yep.  Pregnant.  Knocked-up.  With child.

Needless to say, the next doctor's appointment was a bit different than I had originally planned.  I wanted to walk in and strip down and scream, "Fix this Crap!"  I am not a "panicker" nor am I a victim.  I felt like the biggest freak on the planet.  How can I not have control over this stuff?  Why was I freaking at every little twitch as if it was a stroke or heart attack? Is "pregnant" the real cause? .  So, I walk into the doctor and told him I was pregnant.  He had me pee in the cup and confirmed it.  Medication was changed....the doc, the nurse and my husband were all quite excited.  As for me, I was still scared and worried that I was losing my mind.

Of course I am happy to have another sweet little angel to raise.  Of course I love to nibble baby-feet and listen to that saintly heart thump along. There is nothing more beautiful and humbling than to be honored as the one to bring that spirit and soul into the world. But, I am scared. 

Scared-I don't have what it takes to be a good mom to THREE!  Scared-that my body isn't good enough to do this again.  Scared-that the anxiety I experienced before I knew about the life I was growing was a precursor or warning of horrible things....and those things would be my fault. 

I am pregnant.  Questions answered, anxiety should stop, right?  No, it didn't stop because (I think) these episodes have a lot to do with hormones and my emotions.  Oh, must not forget the fact that they GOT WORSE after Doctor "Hole-in-the-head" told me to take Benadryl to calm my anxiety!!!   DUMB ASS ME tried it and it seems that the mix of new medications, hormones, and my bad reaction to Benadryl not only pushed my panic attacks up a level....I developed a full body rash that is still killing me. 

Off I go, back to my regular doctor.  Screw these idiots who treat me like some "poor emotional pregnant girlie girl."  I am not some fainting flower.  I am not imagining this rash, nor am I trying to goad attention.  My regular doctor took one look at me and said, " Let's find an answer."  He ordered blood tests and gave me steroids.  STEROIDS!!  The baby!!  It took a week of talking to his nurse, among others, but I am now relieved to find that there is minimal threat of the steroids hurting the baby....my stress and high blood pressure from the stress would do more damage.  Ok, I get it.  Choose the lessor of two evils.  I am doing better. 

Tomorrow I will be off to a new OBGYN.  She will get my "new doctor" lecture....and I hope beyond hope that we will get to the bottom of this and baby and mommy will spend the next 7 months chasing rainbows and butterflies.  By the way, I am 10 weeks along today and I really really do want everyone to CELEBRATE!

Conversations with Kenny

Over the last week or two, I have noticed that my sweet little son has been more and more creative in answering questions or during general conversations. I started to keep track.  Here is a sampling:


CONVERSATION 1
ME:  Kenny, want to sing me one of your songs?
KENNY:  I can't
ME:  Why not?
KENNY: It is compli-crated
ME: Try to explain it to me.
KENNY:  You are not enough people, mama.
ME:  How am I not enough people.
KENNY: I can't sing unless I have a audio-ence.
ME:  But you can sing to both Sissy and I, that is two people.
KENNY:  That still isn't good, Mama. 

Then my adorable son shrugged his shoulders in sadness (as if his horribly stupid mother will never get it), sighed and walked away.

CONVERSATION 2
I had just returned to the living room after my shower. Felicia was still napping.
ME:  Kenny, did you throw these blankets on the floor?
KENNY:  No. Sissy did it.
ME:  How did Felicia do it? She has been taking a nap all afternoon..
KENNY:  Well she did it when you were in the shower.
ME: Are you lying to me?
KENNY: No. I am a big boy.

Believing I would stump him, I confidently asked,

ME:  How could Sissy come in here and throw the blankets on the floor when she is sleeping?
KENNY:  This is how it happened, Mama

Can you see the shock in my face at that line!

KENNY:  You got in the shower and made a lot of noise and it woke up Sissy.  She crawled through her stripes (I am assuming he means the bars) on her bed and came in here, she pushed me down cause I told her 'no no' and she got on the couch and pushed the blankets on the floor.  She went back to sleep.

I honestly stood there shocked.  My God this kid just told me the most detailed lie I have ever heard come from the mouth of a 4 year old.  Before I started to laugh, I sent him to his room for a time out...then I laughed my ass off!

CONVERSATION 3
ME:  Kenny, please stop putting your hand on my boob when you come over to give me a hug!
KENNY:  I have to, Mama.
ME: No.  Put your hand on my shoulder or arm.  Don't just grab my boob when you come to give me a hug or to get my attention.
KENNY: Mama, I have to touch your boob.
ME:  Why?
KENNY:  Cause boobs stick out farther than your shoulder!
ME:  (trying not to laugh) I know baby, but please try!
KENNY: ok.

I remember.....

September 11.  I remember too vividly.
Please read my other blog.
VentRantBreathe
Please Remember with me