My Story- Day One

It is finally my turn. I now officially have a story! You know the story I’m talking about. The story that all mothers feel obligated to tell every expectant mom when she is nine months pregnant and feeling anxious and overwhelmed from the imminent body splitting torture she is sure to endure. I now realize that these women do not intend to scare anyone or sound like a know-it-all. But the story is like their own “Red Badge of Courage”.  Labor and delivery is part of the initiation into motherhood and the story is brought out like a war trophy  when reminded of the hard fought and most of the time, won battle.  Maybe if I write this all out for the world to read I won’t feel the urge to tell it every time I see a preggo ready to pop. But then again, probably not. For it is  an obligation, nay, an honor to tell the story of the few most precious days of my life!

On January 26th, 2009 I went in for my doctor appointment. I had the non-stress test as well as an ultrasound / biophysical profile and a regular OB appointment. During the non-stress test, the baby was not very active and needed stimulation to wake up. The nurse rubbed the very visible bump on the right side of my belly which must have been the baby’s back or butt. When rubbed, the baby moved dramatically but not much else activity was recorded. This was very unusual for my non-stress tests. After that test, I went in for the ultrasound. At the previous US only three days earlier, the baby weighed 9lbs 15oz and the amniotic fluid was at a lower level of 7.8. This time she did not take measurements but did check the fluid which was at 7.0. During the OB appointment the nurse practitioner, Megan, said that it wasn’t safe for the fluid to get any lower. She checked my hooha, which was not dilated at all and left to talk to the doctor. When she came back she informed me that they were putting me into the hospital that night at 5pm but because my cervix was not induce-able they would be doing a 12 hour round of cervidil and then induce at about 5am. The doctor came in shortly after to explain the process again. She could tell that I was extremely nervous and suggested that I opt for the c-section because there was a good chance that I would need one anyway. She had previously told me this but I pushed it out of my mind. (I should have just trusted my doctor) I told her that I wanted to at least try to have a natural birth and she said that as long as the baby and I were healthy enough to do so she would respect that decision. She sent us on our way.

We went to Chicago’s Pizza to eat lunch since we had been in the doctor’s office for the last four hours and were starving. It was a pizza buffet which is really kind of like a dream to me, but I could barely eat. The reality was setting in that this was the last time that it would be just “us”.  I also had never really thought of the hospital stay and what was all going to happen there. I had never stayed at a hospital and certainly never been poked and prodded as much as what eventually happened. I think because I had no frame of reference and no idea what to expect, I began to freak out a little. Jimmy brought up something about what we would do with our dog for the next few days. I began to cry…in the middle of the restaurant…in the middle of the day. I didn’t want to leave my puppy and I began to think “what have we done to Jenkins!” He was going to be all alone and missing us and then when we come back, all of our attention will be on the baby. I decided at that moment that I was done with this whole baby thing and I was just going to go home and cuddle in bed with my puppy and hubby for the rest of the week.  If Jimmy had not been pushing me along, I think that is what would have happened. I guess I would have had to have the baby sometime but not that day and I was not going to the hospital.  We left the restaurant and went to clean Jimmy’s car out.  We went home and finished packing up. Well really just Jimmy, I had my bags packed like a good mommy-to-be. We called Becky and Nick Lyons to see if they could watch Jenkins that night. They said they would pick him up after they left the gym later on in the evening. This was good because it wasn’t like I was really saying goodbye to him…just see-ya-later. (Yes, I am ate up over my dog!) We left a little late for the hospital but seemed to get there in time.  They seemed all too accommodating to get me there and commence with the needle time torture so even if we had been late it probably wouldn’t have mattered much.

When we got there they already had my paperwork ready to go. Just a few signatures and I was officially a prisoner subject to whatever they wanted to do me.  I think I might be a bad patient. Although I am mostly cooperative, I am unnaturally skeptical of everyone and their intentions. We waited in the empty waiting room for about ten minutes with all of our bags and watched Charlotte’s Web on the TV. It wasn’t the cute cartoon version that makes you think of a long ago childhood innocence. It was the creepy one with that strange little girl and all of the live animals that they want you to believe are really talking. Do they take me for a fool? Those animals aren’t speaking and the pig isn’t really flipping around. Its just weird. Anyway, the nurse finally called us back and led us to room 2018.  She gave me a gown and told us to get comfortable. Uh huh lady, I’ll get right on that as I slip into this paper thin drape which is tied around my neck like a noose and hangs open for the entire world to see whatever they want.  I put the stupid thing on and laid in what was to become known as the slab of agony.  My first nurse made her way into the room with awkward glances and witty yet snide remarks that were socially inappropriate. She was to become know as the hurler of anguish as nothing that they could do to me in the hospital for those six days could come close to the pain that she was about to shower down on me.  She put the fetal monitors around my belly and started getting my IV ready.  Now I don’t hate needles on their own, but I don’t like to see them in action or before they are used on me so I politely turned my head away as every wuss does when faced with a pointy object.  As I heard the unwrapping of what seemed to be the most well packaged needle ever, Jimmy stepped up to my side and took my hand. At that very moment, I knew that this was going to hurt real bad. You see, Jimmy is usually very laid back in the doctor appointments and usually isn’t too concerned about my procedures.  When he stepped up to comfort me, I thought that he had seen what must have been a sword come out of that packaging and someone who was all too thrilled to stab me repeatedly with it. I think it took this nurse ten minutes to get the IV in right. The entire time I was thinking, “OK, you can hold on a few more seconds, she HAS GOT to be done soon.” But she just kept on going.  This marks the second time I cried that day, oh, and a few yelps and howls came out.  Finally, after wrapping my entire wolf man-like hairy arm in heavy medical tape, she released her sadistic hold on my arm. I expected the pain to subside. But it was as if she had cast a spell on me because the pain not only did not subside, it got worse without her even touching me. I even asked her while staring at my arm if she had taken the needle out.  The pain ended up staying for at least two hours. I can tell you honestly besides the contractions, this was the worst pain I experienced the entire time in the hospital.  You might say what about when they sliced open your belly, or when they gave you a catheter. No, inserting the IV(once again other than the contractions) was the worst of it. If I had known that from the beginning, I think I would have been a lot more relaxed since the almost worst of the pain was over within the first hour.

Next, the Nurse Practitioner, Cher came in to do a quick ultrasound and insert the cervidil. She literally placed the wand on my belly for a matter of ten seconds or less and said yep the head is down. She did not tell me at that point that she thought the head was facing front. I found this out the next day from another nurse. I really still don’t think that it was true because earlier in the same day at the doctor’s office the tech said that the baby was still facing the back like it always had been. Cher started to get the cervidil ready but she was supposed to be leaving at 6 for the day so Dr. Bighands came in to relieve her. They debated for a few minutes about if Cher would finish the job or go ahead and go. Because they were both being extremely too polite to each other, in my opinion,  they couldn’t come to a decision. They asked me. I have to explain that I have never had a male OB/GYN and for a good reason. It makes me uncomfortable. Almost as uncomfortable as trying to pretend that what was going on in that Charlotte’s Web movie was real.   So I wanted to holler out,”You are a man. I let a man in there once and look what he did to me! There is no way I am making that mistake again! And have you seen your hands? They are enormous. They aren’t even proportionate to your arms. You can go on with your badself and find another fool down the hall but it ain’t gonna be me!” But instead I gave the typical female response and said, “I don’t care.” Now I know why lieing is a sin. Sin hurts, and this sin hurt more than I can bare to recall. After a few jokes to lighten the mood, Cher left me in the care of these two terror beasts.

Doctor Evil and Nurse Misery began doing seperate medical histories so that I was answering questions from both of them. Please understand, all of this happened so fast that I was still in shock not only from the whole ordeal yet to come, but also from the IV torture.  Doctor Gorilla Paw confirmed with me that this was my second pregnancy to which I said calmly yes at the same time Jimmy hollered, “What? No!” The doctor looked at us as if to say “Do you two need some time alone?” Jimmy was befuddled and started wondering if I had a secret love child somewhere. He did not realize that the miscarriage I suffered five years earlier was still a pregnancy. The next question had me a little befuddled(and folks these aren’t hard questions). I somehow implied that I was on drugs while I was pregnant. Everyone became very concerned and Jimmy was trying to clear my mistaken answer before the cops and CPS were called. I thought she was asking me if I had ever in my 27 years of life taken recreational drugs. She apparently was asking me if I was a deadbeat mom to which my answer was a sheepish yes.

So Doctor Fist put in the cervidil, which is really like a string with medicine on it. He put the medicine part in my cervix and then the string just hangs out like a tampon string. It really hurt(remember sin hurts I should have just told the truth). It seems like every time they checked me or did anything in there, it hurt much worse than at the doctors office.  I thought the thing was just going to come out and then I also had all the monitors on my arms and belly, so it was really hard to move much. Soon after the Twins of Torture left, my father-in-law came in. At this point, my blood pressure was through the roof. Every few minutes the when the machine would take my blood pressure, I would set off the alarms and a nurse would have to come in and shut it off. It eventually got so high that they quit telling me what it was. Everybody kept telling me to calm down. If calm or comfortable came out of one more person’s mouth I think I would have started stabbing people through their eye with a dum-dum sucker.

When I got to the hospital, not before, they informed me that I would only be able to eat those Dum-Dum suckers, jello, popsicles, and juice until midnight and then after that nothing. So after I barely ate all day, I was now looking at not eating until after I had this baby which I was thinking would not be for another 24hours. Visitors would come into my room and get all bright eyed when they saw the Dum-Dums  and say all goofy, “oh look suckers, can I have one, what flavors are there?” as if I was sitting on my front porch on Halloween night handing out candy. People, just because there are suckers in a room doesn’t mean you have to revert back to first grade and get all loopy. Focus please, something is about to be ripped from my insides.

After Jim left, Jimmy went to get something to eat because I didn’t want him eating in front of me.  While he was gone, I ate some jello and watched 24. I finally got a new nurse. Nurse Death-Is-At-My-Fingertips was finally gone. When Jimmy came back, he had his haircut but still had his ’70s porno stache. Both of which I had been begging him to cut / shave off. We started getting ready for bed and I realized I was not going to be able to sleep. The labor and delivery bed was not meant to sleep in. It was meant to assist in bringing on the pain of childbirth. The nurse said that the doctor had ordered me some Ambien. What? Are you serious? Most pregnant ladies don’t take any kind of sleeping aids for the better part of nine months and you want to give me Ambien? Ok…knock me right on out…that would be fantastic! We got ready for bed, me in this terrible bed with bars all through it, and Jimmy in a vinyle covered recliner that wouldn’t stay reclined because it was broken.  I fell right to sleep like I usually did, but then was up an hour later at 1am. I could tell that Jimmy was also having trouble sleeping because I could hear him squeaking in what sounded like a plastic shower curtain covered chair all night. I dozed in and out for the next hour but by 2am I was up the rest of the night. Do you know how hard it is to sleep with every machine in the world strapped to you and something hanging out of your you-know-what? Everytime I moved, the monitors got out of place and the nurses would come back in and try to quietly move them back into place. No need to be quiet sister, I’m not sleeping anyways. I also had to get up to pee every 45 minutes or so even though I hadn’t been drinking anything. I got up so often that the nurse just showed me how to unplug all of my cords and how to plug them back in myself so that I didn’t have to call a nurse everytime I wanted to use the bathroom.  On top of that, you have women all around you screaming out in labor, saying some pretty nasty things and as much as I didn’t want to listen, I had to, as torturous as it was, because when you heard the screaming stop and the baby start crying…sniff,sniff , well lets just say it was an awesome sound.  Then there was all the chair noise from Jimmy trying to hold his chair in place and the tossing and turning. At one point, I looked over at him, and he was face down on the chair trying to hold it open with his body. He is an inventive fellow and he never gave up. I will at least give him that.

I never got back to sleep. I had no idea what this next day would hold for me and was actually quite anxious and scared about the whole thing.  But as I watched the sun rising, I knew one thing that made all of my worries seem meaningless, that every passing minute brought me closer to holding my baby in my arms.

Stay tuned for day two…

Share and Enjoy:
  • Digg
  • del.icio.us
  • Facebook
  • Google
  • StumbleUpon
  • TwitThis

Announcing Our Beautiful Baby Boy

The birth announcement of James Timothy is also available online. Here are the instructions to view it.

Go to www.cradlememories.com
Click on Online Nursery
Click St. Francis Hospital South
Choose the date January 28th 2009
Click on James Timothy
ID number is 23730263
Now isn’t he the most beautiful baby boy ever!
Enjoy and feel free to share with anyone who would enjoy it as much as we do!
James and Angela
Share and Enjoy:
  • Digg
  • del.icio.us
  • Facebook
  • Google
  • StumbleUpon
  • TwitThis

What I have realized about the ninth month of pregnancy…

Here are some of my observations. I hope they help in your journey.

Now that your belly has grown so much that the skin around it is stretched to the limit, your body must find other ways in which to look ridiculous. At this point, you already have the stretch marks, the baseball size nipples, the classic pregnant dumpy butt, and a black line running down the middle of your torso. What else is there? Don’t you fret…your body will come up with inventive ways of reminding you that your body is no longer your own. It could be what my mom so delicately referred to mine as sausage feet. If you have never seen these, just imagine a giant sausage with five little sausage wieners on the end. Sounds yummy right…well only if you like the pungent odor they give off at all times. The sausage syndrome also usually affects your hands at some point. Same thing as before just longer sausages. The sausage syndrome usually bans you from wearing any attractive shoes, wedding rings, or jewelry and gives you a case of the clumsies. It also impairs your ability to type, play piano, point, or tickle effectively. Therefore rendering you into a overgrown two year old in ugly shoes! This does not go over so well as you have been trying to convince people for months now that you are just as capable and competent as you were 9 months ago. Unknown to you… it is not working.  Adding more insult to injury, your body cruely decides that your face is just a little too normal looking. Your nose will begin to double in size just about every time you look in the mirror. This comes at a time when you thought you had figured out how to hide all of the other bodily misfortunes. Now you have to figure out how to hide something that is smack dab in the middle of your face. Oh but once you figure that out… your nose will also turn bright red just so you know that you are not in control of how you look anymore.

If you have never felt severe anxiety before, you are in for a treat this month.  There really is nothing like the feeling of not being able to breathe, the can’t calm down feeling of being on speed for no other reason except that you are 9 months pregnant. As soon as you hit 36 weeks, it suddenly dawns on you that you could have this baby at anytime. But nothing is ready. You’ve spent your time writing blogs rather than getting the house ready or learning how to use the car seat. You can’t have this baby right now, but you want it out sooo bad! You can’t wait to hold it in your arms, but you won’t have any clothes to change the baby into because you don’t have all the clothes washed in that fancy baby detergent yet. So your loving husband tells you that the internet says just to not worry about anything when you are feeling anxious. Thanks internet you are a huge help! (Sorry I did not mean to mock you great and powerful internet…I love you) You just try to lay down and sleep because you have been day dreaming about this moment when you could lay in bed since you woke up this morning and your mind and body are so exhausted that you don’t have the strength to do anything on your to-do list. Your eyes get heavy, your body goes limp and you are soundly asleep. Peace…comfort…crazy dreams abound! Your eyes fly open, you are in pain from your torso down from laying in the same position for what must have been at least four hours. You have to pee, bad! You wrangle yourself out of bed. Battling pain in your pelvic bone, hips, sciatic nerve, back, and bladder. You make your way through the dark maze of a room all the while supporting yourself on any stable thing along the way. You finally make it to the bathroom only to realize that your caring husband has left the seat up again. The last thing you want to do is handle a nasty toilet seat and it would be actually impossible for you to bend over at this point to set the seat down gently. So you tip it with your finger so that it falls and smashes into the toilet base. There is a loud slam as well as cussing from the dear husband who caused this in the first place(the pregnancy and the toilet seat up situation). After hearing his whining under his breath, you must whine back under your breath and explain his fault in all of this.  You finally get to pee but it is not like anything substantial happens because your bladder is squeezed to about the size of a Dixie cup under the weight of your gigantic child. You can’t even have a sense of accomplishment by having a really good pee from this feat you have just been through.  You start back to bed. Your body is not as stiff as before, but still sore. Rounding the corner, you see that a 95lb fur ball has just made himself very comfortable in your side of the bed on top of your blankets and pillow fortress. Fighting with him gets you nowhere so you pick up the water bottle and squirt him. But you miss and hit your warm pillow instead. The monster runs away and you wiggle yourself back into bed fixing all of your pillows and blanket the way that you like. Right before you close your eyes you look at the clock and realize that you had only been sleeping for forty-five minutes and at this point you know from experience you will be waking up every hour to pee or just to worry about things. There should be about 6 more trips to bathroom just like this except that one may be interrupted by a trip to the garage where you will stand half naked in order to cool yourself off. There will be no REM cycles tonight. You will be even more tired tomorrow morning when you wake up 15 minutes before the alarm goes off.   Thus anxiety sets in again and you realize that this baby must come out even if your baby bottles have not been sterilized yet.

At this realization, you practically beg your doctor every week to check you. This entails doing something that is uncomfortable to say it mildly. For the past four months you have banned all checking in any form in the bedroom and you are now begging to know if anything has changed or progressed. When the doctor looks at you and sadly shakes her head you know what you must do. You must have sex every night(or morning they all kind of blend together now) until this baby arrives! You must walk 4 miles a day. You must get a pedicure, drink Castor oil, eat spicy food, and clean behind your refrigerator. If someone told you to sing the PeeWee Herman theme song everyday at 3:15 and 7:29 on the dot, you would do it. From week 36 on you will be on an important mission. Get it out!

Whistlers! Who do they think they are!?! I have not had to stare down any gum chewers lately but I have had to put some whistlers in their overly annoying place! At nine months pregnant, I just plain don’t feel good. Walking is a challenge, concentrating and remembering(lets not even mention comprehending) is like an Olympic sport, and not peeing my pants everytime I stand up is an acheivement I can be proud of at this point. I’m accomplishing all of these things at once when along comes a whistler. I can hear them a block away. They are practicing all of their fancy runs, and jovial flips and twists in the melody. They are changing up the tempo here and there for a little excitement. All the while they are getting closer and closer, blowing that hot breath down my neck just to let me know that I am not moving fast enough.  Why do they whistle so loud? And then there are those whistlers who whistle through their teeth. Are you kidding me? Is this like a different league? Come on people whistling is not a skill, it was not a team or club in high school and it is not fun to listen to. Do not assume that I don’t whistle at all.  I just have the common decency to do it in the privacy of my own home where only my husband and dog will be annoyed.  I have come across many whistlers during the Christmas season. One came upon me last week out of surprise. I was succeeding at so many things.  I had remembered where my car was. I was not crying. I was not peeing my pants. All of a sudden the guy who was walking closely behind me broke out whistling. I jumped, the baby jumped, and I immediately asked myself, as I often do, “did my water just break?” No it didn’t. It was just some jerky whistler thinking that he sounded so smooth while whistling that it was worth combating my peace in order for me to hear him. I now have a defense against such rude people. I whistle my own song. Usually it is one that I am making up on the spot and it is usually just as loud or louder than the original whistling. It is just as fancy and annoying and can be quite irritating if I do say so myself. The outcome of this whistling warfare has almost always ended with the other person abandoning their gay old song and coming to realize just how annoying it can be when someone who was not asked to perform does so anyway. I said almost always because it has always worked on strangers. My husband is another story. Although I have never told him my defense, he has figured it out on his own. When deployed, he brings down my defense by getting louder and more annoying than I can possibly be. I usually give up but sometimes I win too. The dog gets very confused.

I guess in all, my philosphy for this pregnancy and advice for the 9th month is the same as my philosophy for going down the stairs. Because I can no longer see my foot nor the step it is trying to walk down, instead of never going down the stairs, I repeat to myself with every step something to keep me from freaking out (yes I do now have to  verbally encourage myself to do ordinary tasks.)  So I say out loud, “Just step out and hope for the best.”

And now for some good old fashioned funnies. I can relate to these guys so much right now. This is what happens when I try to follow simple instructions as well.

Share and Enjoy:
  • Digg
  • del.icio.us
  • Facebook
  • Google
  • StumbleUpon
  • TwitThis

One shot around!

I have to start out by saying I heart my BFF! She is the one human who I can honestly talk to about things deep within my heart without feeling judgment or having to sugarcoat those scary thoughts in your mind. It has been that way since we were very young. Neither of us has a blood sister, but she is my sister by choice(and without all the sibling rivalry). Needless to say, she is very inspirational to me. Today when I got to work, I had a message in my in-box waiting for me from her with a video attached.(Of course I didn’t watch it on company time nor did I check my personal email from my work computer. Who do you think I am?) It started my day off on a perfect note. I feel energized and ready to live December 12th, 2008 in recognition that I will never again see another December 12th, 2008.  Here is the link.

The interview

I’m not going to write a bunch of grandiose comments about what I thought but I will add a few statements and I would love to hear what you took away from this. This video inspired me to live in the present. I don’t want to rush into the next phase of life like I have before. There is no point in comparing myself to others because I am unique and unlike anyone else no matter how hard I try to fit into civilization. To me, living life to it’s fullest doesn’t mean having a million experiences. You will never see all that could be seen, or know all there is to know so the idea leaves you defeated at the end of your life. For me, to live life to it’s fullest is to take what I have and make it beautiful. I want to have rich relationships with old and new friends and  treasure and enrich the traditions and culture that I already live in. I want to produce great things out the callings that God has placed on my life.  When I look at my life in the present, there is so much that could be built upon and made more full.  I don’t need to go out and search for more, wasting time on things that will only go so far.

A popular song by 33 Miles right now says “You only get just one time around, You only get one shot at this, One chance to find out the one thing that you don’t wanna miss.”

What is that one thing you don’t want to miss? What is one thing, when it is all said and done is going to matter more than money, more than reputation, more than your lives resume?

Sorry, I didn’t mean to get so deep on a Friday morning! Have a great weekend!

Share and Enjoy:
  • Digg
  • del.icio.us
  • Facebook
  • Google
  • StumbleUpon
  • TwitThis

20 Reasons to have a baby (or not)

Because it is the next logical step in your ever so boring planned out life. Don’t worry, a baby will bring you tons of excitement oh and ruin all of your plans.

Because you have just turned 16 and told that you can no longer play with dolls.

Because you want to be just like your parents.

Because you don’t want to be anything like your parents.

Because you need more money from the government.

Because you think that Justin Timberlake was talking about stretch marks when he declared that he was bringing sexy back. If that is the case, you are going to be bringing a butt-load of sexy back.

Because you are tired of walking the dog and mowing the grass.

Because having a baby will make your spouse/significant other/ partner/ bf/ gf love you more and want to stay with you forever.

Because you have a really cute gynecologist and this is your way of making a move.

Because you never really liked your belly button and this might be cheaper and more effective than plastic surgery.

Because you are going to need someone to change your diapers when you get older and lets face it, nobody likes you that well.

Because you secretly miss watching the Disney channel and need a good excuse to watch cartoons for hours on end.

Because there is a lot of unconditional love out there to be had and you want to get in on some of that.

Because your un-childed friends become ever so supportive as evidenced by mooing into microphones while staring at your belly. (You know who you are)

Because you miss the thrill of sneaking around to make nookie.

Because you really like it when someone asks you “why?” after every thing you say.

Because you miss momma’s home cooking and if you become a momma you will always be able to cook better than anyone else in the world.

Because you are always right, never make mistakes, and should be perceived as so for at least another 15 years at which point you will be wrong about everything and can’t do anything right.

Because you have always seen keys and cellphones as something that should be banged around and put in your mouth and you want to be around others who feel the same way!

All because two people fell in love. (and can’t get out no matter what you try, kinda like quicksand)

Share and Enjoy:
  • Digg
  • del.icio.us
  • Facebook
  • Google
  • StumbleUpon
  • TwitThis

You never really lived until…

You’ve been punched in the bladder

Massaged your own butt while grocery shopping because your sciatic nerve was being pinched and you had to get the shopping done.

Made an art out of building a fortress of pillows around your ever expanding body. Any one who messes with these pillows must be hurt badly in order to be taught a serious lesson!

Rested your hand on your belly only to have something from inside kick you in the exact spot as if to say “You are invading my space lady!”

Yelled back at your belly after the above mentioned wrestling match, “No, you are invading my space baby and I will rest my hand anywhere I feel like it.”

Stood in the 20 degree garage in your t-shirt and underwear in the middle of the night in order to cool off.

Learned how to stop balling on command so as to not freak out the people in Best Buy with your hormonal antics.

Looked at the cute little panties you used to wear and laugh. (Those are what got me into this mess in the first place.)

Been told that at seven months pregnant you look so big as if you could deliver tomorrow and had to grin and bear it because they brought you a present to your shower.

Begged your mother to make chicken and noodles for you even though I could make my own or go to 5 other restaurants to get it just because you had to have mom’s chicken and noodles.

Told someone not to bother buying a gift bag for the shower gift because I had plenty that I could give them.

Thought “all I wanted was a back massage” nearly everyday for 9 months.

Got creeped out with the fact that parts of your body which used to be used for fun are now going to be used as a factory … a strictly business factory.

Started confessing that you have no idea how to be a mother and asking for forgiveness from every mother you have every secretly judged or thought you could do better than. (Seriously leaving your kids in the car while you party might be the way to do it…I have no idea!)

Thought that you could emotionally handle the high risk status since it meant that you could be put on bed rest.

Made final choice on baby names by shouting them out the back door just to see how it sounded.

Started ignoring any advice all together because apparently all problems can be solved by eating crackers.

Thought of sex as home invasion

Tried to rig your razor to the end of your toothbrush so that you could once again reach you entire leg without getting dizzy and falling naked out of the bathtub.

Gagged and or vomited every time you brushed your teeth which then creates a vicious cycle in which you are finally defeated and leave with the nasty mouth and stinky breath you aimed at destroying.

Attempted Pilates type positions for the first time in your life in order to remove what feels like a gigantic pointed foot that has been lodged in you rib and are convinced is just moments away from puncturing a lung with it’s eagle-like talons.

Can anyone add anything pregnancy related to this list? I need some laughs!

Share and Enjoy:
  • Digg
  • del.icio.us
  • Facebook
  • Google
  • StumbleUpon
  • TwitThis

You crazy pregnant lady, no one stole your make-up!


Well, I know I haven’t blogged in a while and you all are in desperate need of crazy pregnant ramblings so here you go. I know that these blogs are open to the whole wide world (isn’t that what WWW. stands for?) to read, but I like to write this stuff for myself. Since I have acquired the disease of pregnancy insanity, I will lay awake at night thinking crazy thoughts and dreaming about nonsense. I guess it just helps to write it down and be done with it rather than let it drive me crazy for hours each night. Here are some of the more serious things I have been pondering lately.

Just because my pregnancy hasn’t been a time full of rainbows and unicorns doesn’t mean I’m a terrible woman or am going to be a horrible mother. I think a lot of the stress has come from me and the expectations I put on myself. I always thought that there couldn’t be a more happy time than when you are pregnant. But I have found it to be scary, overwhelming, and isolating. In the beginning, I worried non-stop about the health of the baby. I prepared myself for the news that I would lose the baby even when the doctors were telling me the contrary. I was so filled with fear that I didn’t even tell those people that love me and want the best for me that I was pregnant for a long time. I suffered from terrible morning sickness but irrationally thought that I had to hide it from them so that they wouldn’t worry and I wouldn’t hurt them by losing another baby. I feel now that this secrecy among other things isolated me from my friends and family. The overwhelming part came when I realized that this is actually going to happen and I don’t think that I am ready. But who is really ever ready? We wanted this baby, we planned and prayed for this baby, and we have built a loving home and marriage over the past seven years in which to nurture and raise this baby. But are we ready? Of course not! We’ve never had a child before and we really have no idea what we are in for. But I think I have come to the conclusion that I don’t care anymore what pregnancy is supposed to look like, my reality is what it is. Crazy or not, hormonal or not, ridiculous or not, I am going to enjoy this time. I have probably cried more in the past 6 months than I did in my first 6 months of life. But I have also laughed harder and more than any other time in my life. It is the big belly laughs that I can’t control and my face gets red and my stomach muscles start to hurt so I have to try to stop myself from laughing. It is really bad when I am by myself at work and this happens. I going to stop telling myself that I am just being stupid when I get hormonal, I’m going to trust in God more and stop trying to control everything that overwhelms me, I’m going to stop being frustrated with myself when I am too tired to stay up with friends on the weekend, I’m not going to be ashamed of rubbing my belly like an old beer-bellied man in public, I’m not going to be embarrassed about how many times I have to use the restroom during one hour long meeting, and I am going to gain as much weight as I want to!

Luckily, I have a husband who loves me in spite of me and because of me. We’ve always had a relationship with each other where we can look beyond what others can’t. Even with his warts and all, I thank God that he gave me a perfect match in Jimmy. I love him more than the day we were married, more than a year ago, more than a month ago. I want to be around him and miss him when he is not around. I hate girl’s night out and will rarely go somewhere that Jimmy isn’t invited. It might sound clingy and overbearing but I’m pretty sure he feels that same way about me (and the dog). It works for us! We are best friends (I still love you Becky) and that is how I envisioned marriage to be. Now that I am crazy, he has actually been pretty cool with it. I guess men really are attracted to crazy women. We haven’t seen eye to eye every time on the furniture and the baby room but he does his fair share of the cooking and cleaning and supports me in my bout with insanity, so I have very little to complain about right now. Oh, and I don’t think he has said anything that slightly resembles moo in a long time so I haven’t had to plot ways to kill him in awhile.

Now for some examples of craziness:

I have been getting a kick out of watching funny youtube videos lately. I checked this one out and found it fantastic.

I especially like the part when he tells the drunkard “you’ve got to stop doing this” as if he was doing it on purpose. So I sent the link to Jimmy for his viewing pleasure and asked him what he thought about it later that day. Just by bringing up the subject I started to laugh uncontrollably. He apparently did not find the humor in the video and simply told me that it was an old video that he had seen before and it wasn’t that funny. I finished my laughing fit and found something else to talk about but later that night I found myself pondering for the majority of an hour t.v. show how he couldn’t think it was funny. Seriously, it is hilarious. What is wrong with him and what exact part of that video isn’t funny? How could I be married to someone who didn’t think it was funny? For real, 45 minutes, this is what I thought about.

We went to another outstanding Third Day concert a couple of weeks ago and wore our Gomer fan club T-shirts. We even got to go backstage and meet the guys after the concert. When they asked us if we had anything we would like signed, Jimmy rationally pulled out the new Third Day CD and had them sign it. I could not follow along with acting like a normal person in front of these rock stars so I asked them to sign my baby bump. My thinking was that this was the babies 2nd Third Day concert and I know it is already a fan. They all signed the bump on my shirt of course but out of about 50 fans I think I had the craziest request.

I often wake up in the middle of the night sweating so much that I think sometimes that I may have wet the bed. I get so hot that nothing can soothe me. By the way, Jimmy is usually freezing; it is only me who thinks it is hotter than Fourth of July in my house. So if you come to my house on any given night around 2:30am you may find me standing in the garage in a T-shirt and underwear trying to cool my body off. But you would have to turn the lights on to see me because I stand in the dark as to not wake me up too much!

My paranoia has gotten the best of me. I usually put my makeup on in the car as Jimmy drives us to work every morning and more often than not I just leave my makeup bag in the car. One day last week, I went to get my makeup out of the car and noticed that it was not in the front seat where I had left it. I reached under the seat, looked in the back, and then accused Jimmy of intentionally hiding it from me after he had dropped me off in the morning. I think he heard his name being used in a not so loving way and so came to the garage to find out how he could help (yeah right). After almost convincing me that he did not hide it from me as a not so funny joke I realized that it must have been stolen because everyone wants used makeup out of a stranger’s car. I resigned to the fact that it had been stolen but was pondering how someone got into the car through locked doors and without breaking a window. I muttered something about buying all new makeup when Jimmy finally snapped me out of it by saying “You crazy pregnant lady, no one stole your make-up!” Immediately following, I found my makeup under the seat of the car where I had already looked.

Here are some doctor appointment updates for those of you that I have been too lazy to get a hold of. At the 6 month check-up I gained 8lbs in one month. Dr. lectured me, I cried, she was not phased by tears; I decided to watch what I was eating. My sugar levels in my blood came back too high, they tested me for gestational diabetes, but I passed. Baby’s heart rate was 148. My insurance provider and hospital had a sissy fight and I got to stress out for a month; they resolved their squabble; everything is back on track. At the 7 month check up I was informed that I am starting to go every two weeks. The doctor is concerned that my sugar levels are still high. Although my tests came back negative for gestational diabetes and there has been no sugar in my pee, she is considering me high risk and has requested that at my bi-weekly and then weekly appointments I do the hour long ultrasound bio-physical test. Bad news – she called me high risk, good news- I get to see my baby every week, bad news- I might find out what the sex of the baby is if I am seeing it so often, good news- who cares I get to see my baby every week! I lost two pounds this month. Last month I got a lecture, this month “I see that you lost a couple pounds which is, whatever.” Come on I deserve a pat on the back at least. All I get is a shot in the butt because I am RH-. So now I have gained 10 pounds with this pregnancy, but they only want me to gain 15 altogether. Blood pressure is good, pee test is good, and weight is ok. Baby’s heart rate was 146. My next appointment is a week from tomorrow. I will try to up date more after that.

For now, I will leave you with a few videos that seemed to make me laugh so hard that I cried. At risk of me ending up on strong anti-depressants you better find them funny too!

Share and Enjoy:
  • Digg
  • del.icio.us
  • Facebook
  • Google
  • StumbleUpon
  • TwitThis

The Ten Cannots

We might be learning these lessons the hard way in the near future. Lets hope not!

You cannot bring about prosperity by discouraging thrift.
You cannot help small men by tearing down big men.
You cannot strengthen the weak by weakening the strong.
You cannot lift the wage-earner by pulling down the wage-payer.
You cannot help the poor man by destroying the rich.
You cannot keep out of trouble by spending more than your income.
You cannot further the brotherhood of man by inciting class hatred.
You cannot establish security on borrowed money.
You cannot build character and courage by taking away men’s initiative
and independence.
You cannot help men permanently by doing for them what they could
and should do for themselves.

William Boetcker, 1873 – 1962

Share and Enjoy:
  • Digg
  • del.icio.us
  • Facebook
  • Google
  • StumbleUpon
  • TwitThis

Bullies in the classroom…not who you expect!

This weekend my home town, Indianapolis, is hosting the Fifth Annual Conference of the International Bullying Prevention Association.  More than 700 educators from around the world will be here in hopes of ending games of tag, kickball, and four square as these types of activities breed the bullying mentality into our young people.  I hope they get a chance to view this video where we can see the new type of bully. Maybe they will become as sickened as I was. This just convinces me that there is no better time than now to get my teaching license.

Share and Enjoy:
  • Digg
  • del.icio.us
  • Facebook
  • Google
  • StumbleUpon
  • TwitThis

Baby Expo / Do you really want to hurt me?

Baby expos….ahhh baby expos. There is nothing quite like being in a huge concentration of highly hormonal and insane women. But before you rush off this weekend to find an expo in your area, please take heed and read this carefully. First I must give you some background on my mother and why she would do this for me. Ever since I can remember, she has always been a very involved mother. She gets excited, sometimes overly so, about everything that goes on in her children’s lives. She was always a class or team mom. She attended every little league, sporting, band, girl/boy scout, etc… event. She made me sorority shirts when I was in school. She called me every week that I lived in England just to know what was going on in my life. When I was on my senior year spring break in Panama City she called me…which was weird but this was the conversation. “Hi mom.” …muffled crying sounds… ”Mom, what’s wrong?” …more crying… “I went to the doctor today.” (Oh no something is wrong with my mom!) “I’m going to have to have surgery on my foot during (one of the percussion contests in Michigan) and will not be able to go with you.” More crying “MOM, I thought something was really wrong with you. You scared the crap out of me.” Then I proceeded, in my own teenage way, to tell her that it was ok and I would forgive her if this one time she was not able to be there for me and needed to take care of her self. This may make my mom sound crazy but needless to say, because of her enthusiasm in my life I always knew that I was loved and cared for which is something that I hope I can convey to my children. So needless to say the upcoming birth of her most brilliant grandchild is something she has gotten excited about.

She found out about this baby expo and got me all excited about free stuff. If you read my twitter, you might remember the free stuff excitement. So the promise was that the first 1500 people would receive free gifts. I thought that I was in for a butt load of free stuff. I was sure that my mom and I could make it within the first 1500 people. The expo started at 10:00am and it was not like I was going to be out all night drinking the night before. So we made our way there and as soon as we got to the expo site, we saw a line that wrapped around the entire building. I surrendered to the thought that we would not be in the oh so precious first 1500 people that obviously didn’t have a life and therefore slept in front of the building all night to get my rightfully deserved free stuff. While waiting in this line with my mother, I began noticing not only the trillion pregnant women there, but also the gazillion children with them. Pregnant moms holding a squirming toddler and or pushing a stroller while holding their purse, a little girl purse, juice cup, a snack in her hand, a hot wheel in her mouth, and if I was a gambling woman I would say birth control in her bulging back pack. My sudden impending reality hit me. I will soon never be able to leave my house without a wheelbarrow. At one point the little boy in front of us was saying sit, sit, sit over and over again. But it did not sound like sit. It sounded like something that people say when they realized they left their cell phone at home on the charger as soon as they get to work. The mom was so embarrassed that she popped her son in the mouth and said something that didn’t sound like “I love you honey” into his ear. He started pointing to the chairs and everyone around suddenly felt badly for the poor innocent boy who had the horribly deranged mom who tortured him by not letting him sit down. But I thought, I would have probably done the same thing in that situation. Moms make mistakes, right?

We finally got to the front of the line and the woman who took my moms money told us that we were part of the elite, and uppity I might add, first 1500 people. But we would have to collect stamps on this card from specific vendors in order to get the fabulous prizes. Cool, whatever, no big pregnant deal. (Sorry it seems now a days big and pregnant just seem to go together) My mom and I began to get a grip on our surroundings. We got stamps at the dad’s lounge (which was really just a bunch of video games) and the breastfeeding / relaxation room. We spoke to the people from Gymboree and all was well. We decided after visiting all of the outlying rooms to get our brave on and face the giant pregnant mob in the two main ballrooms. Ok, first I have to pee….again. As we started through, I noticed that my bag was being filled with literature (pamphlets) and I thought to myself “gee, I need to save some room for the massive amount of free stuff that is going to come my way.”

We were getting a little hungry since we both forgot to eat breakfast in our quest to be the most elite and beautiful 1500 people in Indianapolis that morning. So we grabbed candy from the booths as we visited them. Near the front of the ball room there was a small food stand set up which sold $5 hotdogs, $7 wraps, and $3 bottles of water. Who in the pregnant world wants a nasty hotdog? Not I! I scoffed at this stand and thought about all the better options that this expo would be sure to provide for us preggos. My mom and I decided to just go and get lunch after we were done and were generously given our free stuff that we would need help to the car with because there was soo much to carry.(Including a stroller) We got all of our stamps except one which was a seminar. These seminars had been going on all day. The first one was from the Shower Diva. This is the only one I really wanted to see. But it started at 10:30am and was only a half hour. We were still in line at 10:30am AND we were part of the smartest people in the world first 1500. The planning in this seemed a little off. It was just striking noon and my mom and I were tired of being on our feet and being herded through a pregnant jungle with scary sounds and sights all around. We found on the schedule a seminar that was starting at noon, proceeded to the room, and were embarrassingly shot down in front of the entire expo. I think what they said was “Oh, sorry this seminar is full.” But what I heard them say was you have a chicken face and monkey brains, which is not a good thing, so you may not enter our beautiful and intelligent room. By the way, are those your feet that smell so bad?”

So my mother and I looked at each other like “what now?” The next seminar was not until 1:00 and lasted an hour. We really weren’t planning on staying that long and were getting really hungry. But we had our eyes on the free wonderful prizes. So we decided to walk through the hall and find something to eat while we waited. As we passed one room after another we started wondering where all the food was. They must have something at the end of the hall. If you live in Indianapolis, you are surely aware of the place where you go for conventions, which is also connected to a mall and a sports stadium that was recently deflated. (I don’t want to say the name of anything on here. I don’t want to end up on Judge Judy. I’m enthralled but terrified of her.) How can they not have food in this place? We soon reached the end of the expo area and no food was found. Hold the phone! You invite thousands of pregnant women into one space and there is no food. I am not the one with monkey brains here. I think that they just wanted to see pregnant women fight. I realized that I would have to make a choice. Leave the expo and find sustenance for myself / baby or stay for another two hours in order to receive my free fantastic prizes, which were sure to be a new nursery furniture set. I knew that I had been hungry before and thought that I could make it but I have never been the recipient of a year’s supply of diapers and wipes. We decided to stay. We found a Gatorade cooler full of water and drank about three cups while standing there. Then, much like a light bulb that floated down from heaven and landed on the brow of my mother, she came up with a Hail Mary. She remembered all of the booths that set out mints and suckers and other small candies. We scoured the aisles once again in the ball rooms stopping only to pick up candy and then move on. The people would try to talk to us not realizing that they had already given us their pitch and we blatantly ignored them. We found the Shower Diva booth. My mom did stop for a few seconds to look at her goodies. Although I was interested in her goodies as well, my eyes locked onto a chair they had sitting behind them. There was a small cake plate upon which sat the grandest and most fluffy looking doughnut ever seen by the human eye. The glaze was perfectly set around the circumference and dripping into the middle hole. The helper was trying to talk to me but al I could spit out is “Where did you get that doughnut” I am pretty sure that I was slobbering much like a dog with the bright eyes of a psychopathic lunatic. It couldn’t have been pretty. She looked at me, with fear in her eyes, as she explained that they were given to the workers. Are you freaking kidding me? I thought to myself, as I often do these days, “Am I going to have to fight?” Now my mom IS a nurse, but I decided to not fight and spare her from yet another day of cleaning up human blood. I don’t think there is a time yet that I have actually decided to fight but there have been some pretty close calls since I have been pregnant.

After this, we were both drained. We sat in front of the stage and waited for the seminar to begin. This seminar was with seven local celebrity mothers who were going to have a question and answer forum. It finally started and right off the bat, horridness filed the main stage. We kept looking around for someone to come through and stamp our card so we could leave. No one was going to help us. After 40 minutes and a terrible breastfeeding question (Is it really a surprise that the celebrity with obviously fake boobs did not breastfeed?) we decided to take our chances and see if anyone outside the door would sign off that we were in there for forty minutes. Right across from the door was the room where the gifts were being given out. The lady was standing there with a bag in her hand. As my mom reached for it, the lady yanked her hand back and explained that this was the last prize and it was already taken. I thought the bag seemed kind of small for all of the prizes we were supposed to be getting but I suddenly realized that it could have been a check or cash. We walked away defeated at the thought that we spent an entire worthless Saturday afternoon starving to death and leaving with no free gifts. As we headed to the car, we both had a mood swing. We were not going to leave defeated, we were going to at least complain until someone was annoyed. We paid to get into this shindig where we were expecting free stuff. Instead people tried to sell us baby water and cloth diapers. I have never paid to have people try to sell me stuff. Besides a random mint the people at the booths weren’t even giving out samples of their products. There was no food but they did provide a terrible lay out so that pregnant women were maneuvering their bodies through a maze of strollers and vendors hoping out at you. And then how can they count out 1500 people when they come in the door and not have 1500 prizes for those people when they leave? What a big pregnant scam! As we walked back up to the room, we saw them giving out more prizes. How could this be? Didn’t the woman so rudely refuse to give my mom a gift bag because there was only one left? The bags looked a lot smaller and less full than the ones that were given before but I didn’t care I just wanted a bag so that I could b**ch slap the lady with it. Did I mention that I was starving? My mom and I both got a bag and as we walked away we looked inside for our loot. My mom was given a book on baby showers and I (sigh) I was given a book on natural child birth.

Share and Enjoy:
  • Digg
  • del.icio.us
  • Facebook
  • Google
  • StumbleUpon
  • TwitThis