As we continue with the factors holding me back from my blogging responsibilities:
D's job. I know I have touched on this before, but due to a much needed soapbox moment, I never devulged details which is difficult to do as D is afraid someone from his job will somehow stumble onto this (non-public) site and know that he's not happy. Hmmm....you think they might figure that out when you give your 2 weeks? Anyway, as I was saying, because of D's fears, he has asked that I never refer to his place of employment on my site which makes Part II sort of a difficult task considering it is the main contributing factor in our dilemma at the time. In a nutshell: 3 crappy raises in 3 years, no promotion or hopes for a better raise has put us in a situation where we can not afford to live in New York with his current salary once the wee one arrives. Let me rephrase that a bit: With the crappy salary the place of employment has given D, we can not afford to live in New York and have a wee one with just one salary. Come December, when the wee one arrives, if all is to stay the same, I will be frantically searching for daycare.
Now, let me pause to give my daycare disclaimer:
I don't think that everyone is good to there children by being a stay at home mom. I also believe that many women are better mom's because they do work outside of the home. I know people who nobly hold the stay at home mom title only to verbally and emotionally tear down their kids all the while. My best guess is they are staying home because someone told them any other choice would be a disgrace to their children. They might find themselves enjoying motherhood and their children more if they did work. On the flip side of that, I do not believe that a woman can have the best of both worlds: enjoy being a career mom and still be the mom they dreamed of being. It is impossible to give 100% of yourself to 2 separate humongous commitments, one has to suffer. There are many woman out there who do this balance beautifully, who do put their kids first above the career and put their jobs second. But, just as I know woman who would be better working, I also see woman who value the status of their careers over their kids. Personally, I think these kids will still be excellent members of society, it's those parents who will look back at their lives and realize how much they missed out on and see the distance that stands between them and their grown child. When it all boils down, this is a very personal decision that you and your spouse have to make. This decision must be something that makes the two of you comfortable, not what makes your Aunt Gertrude comfortable.
Aunt Gertrude aside, I have always had every intention of staying at home with my child. I have not made this decision due do some strong nobel value, granted I was raised to believe this was best for the child, but not the main reason. I personally want my child, at this young age, to be with me so I can determine their schedule and daily activities. I don't want to miss the little things in my child's life and I want to be the one to have the bulk of my child's time. I want to be the one to sit and teach my child to do certain developmental things. I want to be the one to work on their fine motor skills. Come a certain age, I will have to put my child into the world and have outside role models influence my child. I only have so many years to be the #1 person in his/her life and I want to make sure that in those years I give my child the tools I want them to have to function. I know I can hold on a little longer by homeschooling. My sister homeschools and does a magnificent job, but I know my limits, I am not a teacher and plan to rely on skilled professionals to do this job for me. Bottom line is, I don't want to have to be in a situation where I don't have a choice and daycare would be our only option.
The mental turmoil then comes into play. At this point, the only real way out would be to move outside of New York where there are more jobs in D's field and a state where the cost of living is lower. I was ready to move from New York the first day I got here 2 1/2 years ago with no hesitation and no sad goodbyes. But now that it might be a reality, I feel strangely torn. Where this area is infested with fleece and birckenstock loving people, I am a suede and Franco Sarto kind of girl. Having my mom here this weekend I quickly remembered why I desired to be closer to home. I am sure it's the pregnancy hormones, but when mom left on Sunday I came home and did something I didn't think was biologically possible for me as I was born minus tear ducts. I laid on the couch and cried. Not my typically pushing out of a half tear, but streams of them, to my shock and dismay. I became even more emotional when I walked out onto the deck which was decorated with the flowers mom had bought for me while she was here. Just standing outside the door tore me up, and through a choked up voice I expressed my deep desire to be closer to family. But now, with my pregnancy hormones shifting from induced crying to insane frustration, I would feel very sad to leave the dear friends that I have made here. I can't even imagine how I would have made it to this 12 week mark (Friday) without their encouragement and love. How on earth do I leave them?
Never would I have thought, 2 1/2 years ago that there would be anything holding me back from wanting to leave. But now I am at this strange spot in my life with these expectations that I want to reach and the reality that my physical position is not allowing me to reach them. It's definitely being stuck between a rock and a hard place.
I've got so much ground to cover today that I have decided to break these post into two parts. Technically I should have titled this just simply Part 1 but that isn't witty and sure doesn't sound inviting. I realize I have brought this back log of writing on myself as I have been neglectful of my posting responsibilities. I fear eventually my avid readers will give up on me and move one to higher ground and more reliable bloggers. I understand, but bare with me, the first trimester should end soon and supposedly this sickness also leaves with it....so I'm told! In reality though, many things that are going on in my life right now have not been exactly post'able. Many things if posted would force many members of my family to either feel like their privacy has been invaded or begin a round of silent treatments with me as began in the last seething post. So I have opted to keep my mouth shut and my hands on top of head. What's that saying? If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all. Hence nothing at all.
I've decided that I should probably touch on the subject left in last post comments. I have debated with myself of what to do. I could assume that many hadn't read the comment and just move on from the topic. But of course we all know what assuming does. I had meant to remove the comment last night, as it was my cousin's way of communicating with me absent of my email at the time. Unfortunately I got a bad case of evening sickness and went to bed forgetting this task. If people had read it there might be a hint of curiosity due to the subject matter in the comment. So, Mrs. Indecisive has decided to leave the comment there and bring the subject up as it is a very interesting one to me. Originally I found out about this situation weeks before my Aunt's children did. I only knew because my Uncle shared it with my Mom who swore us to secrecy until they could tell their children. Personally it was cruel and unusual torture for me to know and them not to especially when I consider myself growing closer to my cousin and his wife...well, really his wife more but inevitably my cousin to I am sure! Knowing that my Aunt (at the time) potentially might have Lung Cancer, my Uncle turned to my mother and wanted us girls to be there for my cousin since we have become experts on parental Cancer diagnosis. After many test the end result unfortunately has shown cancer in both her lungs, breathing and eating tubes, and her trachea and esophagus. Yesterday's Pet Scan results have shown the cancer is throughout her body. This news is pretty devastating.
I am the type of person that believes that all things happen for a reason. That life's experiences are woven together creating a crocheted chain effect. Each hook you form depends on the next eventually resulting in a masterpiece. There are many times I don't understand why a certain chain in my life had to occur and I am always looking for it's reason. Why did Garret die? Why did I have to miscarry? What purpose could their be in Mom having cancer? I look at certain things in life after they have occurred and I search for a purpose. Many people will tell me that this outlook is absurd. That sometimes thing just happen apart from any rhyme or reason. They sit alone in the cosmic world for no other purpose than just to occur. I try to believe this. I try to believe that the only reason I miscarried was simply because it happens. Door closed, no more analyzing, let it go. But in my heart, how I am wired, I still keep my eyes peeled for a purpose. I don't believe we are here for random events. I explain this theory of mine to you in order for you to understand my next thought.
Growing up I was not close to my Florida cousins. It was not out of cruelty, like my cousins on the other side, but more out of great distance and lack of money for both my mom and her brother. Well, not my whole life. Before my parents divorced and that silver was replaced with plastic, we did enjoy the perks that any other well to do family experienced. One of which was to travel. I don't remember these days but numerous pictures confirm this for me. After the divorce the money dried up faster than the Sahara desert and traveling beyond the state border was out of our means. Keep in mind that silver spoon I was born with was quickly replaced by a plastic one...I remember my mom saying that to me when I was 8 and that saying was followed with "Don't bite down to hard, because if it breaks, it can't be replaced". The Florida side also inherited this plastic utensil, so visits were out of the question. I always knew of this family, and before the divorce I remember my Aunt sending me Polly Flanders dresses, other than that, my memories are quite empty. It wasn't until a few years back that my Uncle began to emerge and insist on visiting us. His first visit after many years occurring during my Junior your in college. I always have enjoyed his presence and adored watching the love that he and my Aunt have shared. My cousins both had been going through a rough spot in life and never joined them on these visits. Not until last summer that is did we get the call that not only was my Aunt and Uncle coming to visit but along with them my cousin and his new wife were joining them specifically for our Family Reunion that our part of the family was in charge of. Now, here is confession time. My sister's and I did not want them coming. We did not want to share our traditions and our Grandmother with people who we considered outsiders, regardless of the fact that genetically they deserved to be there. In our minds they were stepping into a tight knit circle that they had no right to be in. Yes, we are very territorial of my Mom and Granny. They are ours and we don't like to share them or our traditions. We made a pact, we give them a moment, and if we didn't like them, they would be ostrecized from our circle. How mean? I know, it is, and caddy at that. But you must realize that growing up my Mom and Granny were our main symbols of trust and security. We have this safety net between the five of us and we don't like inviting others inside of it. If you think one ***** can make you feel unwanted, imagine the power of the three of us together. My mom knows how possessive we are and begged us to play nice, if anything for Granny's sake. Smugly we agreed. Whatever armor of jealously and control we put on was quickly stripped the moment all four of them arrived. Before we knew it, that hand locked safety net slowly loosened making way for four more people to grab hold on to. I don't know exactly what it was that allowed us to trust them, maybe Steve's uncanny sense of humor that strangely resembled that of our own. Or the realness of his wife as she began to engage in true conversation with these strange new in-laws she innocently married into. What was apparent was that after that weekend, family ties just became stronger and new friendships were quickly formed with a genuine wish of their return. Now, with this new twist of fate, I clearly see why God brought them back into our lives. Everything happens for a reason, and the reason here is clear....we need them as much as they need us and our safety net has only become stronger.
Has anyone noticed that it has been a while since I have droned on and on about work? Anyone notice that is has been 3 whole months with not one complaint about this place I suffer through 8 hours each day? Now, if one was analysts one would come to the conclusion that the work environment had a shift of winds and it has been smooth sailing for these past blissful 3 months. The poor analysts would come to that conclusion should really consider finding himself a new career. No friends, work has not been a tropical vacation by any means. The drama of the this pregnancy has just been on the fore front of my mind these past 10 weeks. I do miss my droning about my place of employment, sure, you all don't miss it, but how refreshing would it be to read a post that doesn't consist of complaints of morning/afternoon sickness and pessimistic outlook's on life?
Work really has been more like that darn virus that runs in the background of your mind. It's a sneaky little thing, and there is no program that will rid you of it except to just disarm it and start from scratch. You don't quite realize how much it affects your daily functions until you sorta open up the jar and look closely inside of it. I honestly must say that I work with the most incompetent group of people ever known to man. And by incompetent group of people I am really only referring to a small number of individuals. I won't give an exact number, because then I really would be pointing out who it is and I really need to keep this job for at least another 30 weeks, that is if I want to stay in adoption until I retire to be a mom for a spell. Although there have been mind boggling circumstances occurring here, I guess this pregnancy has really become my ticket out of here. I no longer feel helpless because I calmly whisper to myself that soon it will be over. I only stay to gain the experience to use at a later point in my life. And I enjoy the every Friday off routine and don't feel like hunting for another temporary job that fits my traveling schedule for the summer....I have already bought my non-returnable tickets. I also stay because, frankly, where the heck else I am going to work temporarily, and who knows where I even will be once this child comes.
Ooops, so there, I said it...and "it" might come like a bombshell to some of you reading this but honestly at this point in the game D and I have no clue where we will be hanging our hats come December. It's not that we don't want to live here anymore, it just that we want to be able to live and D's job is not enabling us to do so. New York is a ridiculously expensive state to live in and D's place of employment refuses to accept this fact and rewards D's hardwork with mediocre raises. Not to mention that the cost of living has sky rocketed here in the last 2 years making it impossible to own a house on your own unless you have a Great Aunt Hilda that dies and leaves you a huge inheritance. I don't have any rich Great Aunt Hilda's and since I am the youngest and most conservative in the family I typically get rewarded with little help from my family (okay, that is SO another soap box for another day that will, and actually I can guarantee will piss off every member of my family....oops, I forgot, I am not allowed you use your penny banks...STOP there Emily, you want at least one person to show up at the birth of your child). As I was saying, since I have no Daddy Warbucks, I have to make it on my own and at this point since no one is running to rescue us, renting cost us much less that owning our own home. As much I don't want to stand on this soap box, I must because now that I mentioned it I am really annoyed and it must be said. There is this cycle in my family where others have their own personal piggy banks. They chip a nail? They can run to either bank and get the money for a manicure to fix it. Blow money on a new computer and now can't afford groceries? No problem, we'll just go shopping for you! If I need just one penny there are more string attached than that used to make a king size comforter. "Sure, we'll help you out Em, but you'll pay for it until you die!" Just last week my own Grandmother said to me how I am so smart with my money that they don't needs to help me. Which is true but I feel like I get punished for being responsible. So maybe the trick is for me to get really irresponsible and make absurd decisions, open numerous credit cards, buy every electronic device that D could dream of, every Franco Sarto shoe designed, buy a huge house I can't afford and then maybe, just maybe I could sit and tap into a personal piggy bank. Now that I am done having a mini pity party for myself, I know in my heart I could never do these things. My principles and values for money are to strong. Maybe it's harder for me to run to piggy banks because I have worked since I was legally allowed, paying my own way through Private High School and every material item that I desired. I respect the value of a dollar because I've worked 60 plus hours a week at one point in my life just to earn it. Others in my family don't know how that goes. Just two years ago I would work a full time job just to run home, eat and go to my night job. I have always made good financial decisions and the ones that haven't been all that good, I've paid my way out of it myself. The times that my mother does buy me an extravagant gift, I feel enormous guilt because I know that she is trying her hardest to retire and the last thing she needs at this point in her life is to be financially responsible for her children. We are adults and need to start making adult financial decisions and not be dependent on our family members anymore. Even if that means living in a one bedroom apartment, drive a small car and not have all the material desires of your hearts. At least I can go to bed each night with a clear conscience that I have paid my own way that day and made responsible financial decisions. I know if tragedy would strike, and D and I would run out of funds certain people in my family would be there for me. But that would be the only way I would even have a somewhat clear conscience to ask. So, as I was saying before the soapbox tirade. We don't know where to go to be able to live. It might be Pennsylvania, New Jersey or even Virginia. It's whoever will offer D a job with the salary that will allow us to live. I don't care where it is, as long as it is no further than 8 hours from my family, specifically my mom as that is where most of the family get together's occur. We are going to try for this area, although the pickings are slim but that would cause the least amount of disruption. Bottom line: New York is ridiculously expensive and D's job isn't keeping up. For all I know, come December, I will be using my tub as a crib!
If my attention to this site is any predictor of how I will be as a mother, let's just say there will be an opened C.P.S. case on me faster than you can say morning sickness. No no, we all must come to terms with the fact that the pregnancy industry are big fat liars. They tell you it's just sickness during the morning to make you get pregnant, then, afterwards you cruelly discover the lie as you sit gulping milk (which you hate to drink mind you) praying that the heartburn which is burning holes in your chest will just simmer down for a moment. I know, I've stood on this soapbox before, but it is the only box I have to stand on in order to beg forgiveness for my neglectful nature. For 7 days straight now, non stop I have felt a type of sickness that I have never experienced in my 29 blissful years of existence. I am in no way complaining about my overwhelming feeling of daily vomiting, I am more than grateful that this pregnancy is progressing and sending me these minute by minute plays of it's progression. I humbly realize that there are many women who would do anything to walk in my shoes right now. I am grateful that I am pregnant. However, I am merely pointing out how difficult is to function as my pre-knocked up self did. I have a date each evening starting at 5 p.m. with my couch and whatever food is on the list for the week. This week? Fruit roll-ups, Ice Pops, Chocolate mousse and the 4 weeks champ, cheese, the only food that at it's thought has not made me nauseas. My aversions have been odd. They are the ones that you don't actually hear to often. Think I'm kidding? I'll prove it:
1. All Shampoo and Conditioner, I wash and rinse while holding back the vomit. 2. Cigarette smoke: I don't care if the last time you smoked was 2 years ago, I'll smell it and get really bitchy and sick. If you smoke, don't come near me for your own self preservation. 3. My craft drawer. The smell of cardstock and paper is just horrendous right now. So, if you have a birthday/anniversary anytime soon, don't expect a handmade card from me right now. It's not because I don't love you, it's because I don't want to send you a card covered in puke...yum. 4. Fresh Air. Screw you nature, now even you have turned against me. I kid you not, each evening while whimpering on my couch, the mere smell of the outdoors is sickening to me...Nature! Who would've thought! 5. The computer. No, it's really not my scapegoat for laziness, really. But the thought of writing about my sickness makes me even sicker.
You can be guaranteed, that if I don't pass out from sickness, once this is over with, I will be writing my version of "What to expect, that they don't tell you to expect, when you are expecting".
Oh, and yes, I am 9 weeks pregnant right now. I've got 3 more weeks, or shall I say you have 3 more weeks of complaining to endure. Complaining about sickness that is. I am sure I will find a new thing to whine about at the 12 week mark.
P.S. I have not proof read this as I am as sick as sick can be. Forgive me.
Yesterday was Mother's Day (if this is the first time you realized this I would highly recommend that you stop what you are doing immediately and call whomever birth/raised you). D and I did nothing special for this day except skip church and have a Panera bagel. We only did that because he had such a hellish week between work and the accident he was not up to waking to an alarm at all this weekend, which was fine. The thought of even celebrating this day didn't even cross our minds. It wasn't until I received 2 cards in the mail for the "Mother-to-be" that it even dawned on me that technically I could celebrate it this year. When I asked D what he thought about the whole concept he said that he didn't want to celebrate it because honestly, he didn't want to jinx the whole thing. Amazing to me, that my husband actually has an emotion about this pregnancy, an emotion of concern and fear that it will end. I guess in a way I have always assumed that he is more focused on the fear of the financial effect rather than focused on a desire for this pregnancy to continue because he is emotionally connected to it. For me, I have not fully accepted this pregnancy emotionally. I am doing all that is needed physically such as taking my vitamins, eating meals other than just dinner, and am even drinking milk. I still feel awkward when people ask me how the pregnancy is going. Or even when people acknowledge that I am even pregnant. And having to talk about it is strangely uncomfortable only because I have not allowed myself to feel fully comfortable with the whole thing out of fear that it will end. I go through the motions of pregnancy....I think about what I will do for Christmas this year, how I will get the Christmas cards out while as large as a house, I think about what maternity clothes I will need come Fall. I think about all of this while arms lengthing myself. Before the pregnancy, I would shop for my future child. Now, I can't bring myself to do it. Now that the pregnancy is real, and there is a real threat of it ending, I am not as quick to pick something up for the baby. Of course, when I say that there is a real threat of it ending, I am not saying that I am even presenting any signs of a miscarriage. But I live in the hypothetical. It could happen because it did happen and we all base our realities on our past experiences. I pray each and every day for this not to end, but I also prayed each and every day for Garrett not to die. I prayed each and every day that my Dad would not have Mantle Cell Lymphoma. I prayed each and every day that Ms. Cindy would beat her cancer. All these things happened regardless of how hard I prayed. But as I even type this, there is a still, calm voice that says "You prayed each and every day that you could get pregnant and you did". I am scared, so much because now I am further along, and now it will hurt worse than the last one physically and emotionally. D and I have this friend, Phil, he is the stereo typical bachelor with a heart of gold. We have never received a Christmas card, a birthday gift or any of the sorts from him. But last night, the evening of Mother's Day he became the 3rd person to give me a Mother-to-be card. My sweet bachelor friend who buys his groceries from CVS even considers this pregnancy as real. Thank God others aren't arms lengthing themselves from this as I am. I look around at the hope in their eyes and hear the joy in their voice and for now, they are the ones holding me up allowing me to get through these early weeks.
Despite all my built up anxiety and horrible list of what if's, this appointment turned out to be the most amazing ones that I have ever had during this journey of pregnancy. I am not one for tears, I am not one to fall apart in front of others. But, when I saw the heart beat appear on the monitor, I felt my eye's well up and my heart let go. It truly was the most peaceful sight I have seen. I know that anything could happen still. But seeing that heart beat proved that despite all this bleeding and cramping, this life continues to sustain and grow deep within me ~ it is a rare instance that I become speechless.
Commence crossing of all possible body parts.....now!
Tomorrow, 1:45 p.m. will be the first of hopefully several ultrasounds.
I am petrified, but let's just not go there right now. Okay, maybe for just a moment: I don't want this ride of pregnancy to end tomorrow. My biggest fear? They'll find something wrong and tell me it's over. Granted, the fact that as I sit here writing this I'm overcome by nausea and sore boobs should be a big sign that everything is a-okay. Should be, right? I've known about this appointment since Monday but have chosen to not think about, hence why you all are finding out about it in the eleventh hour.
I expect some pretzel looking people tomorrow until I report the results, which I will do immediately as long as blogger cooperates with me this time.
The phone has slowly become my arch-rival these past couple of days thanks to the overwhelming feeling of vomiting while on the phone. Since I don't think many of my family and friends members would appreciate this, I have boycotted the phone. I find that come evening the nausea becomes so strong the I am afraid to open my mouth which obviously my husband finds quite relaxing. I am sure he is hoping it will never end. As I sat at my window this morning, as I always do on work days as I force myself to wake up, I realized how it had been days since I had spoken to my circle of phone friendly people. Phone friendly people? Yes, this is the group of people that I speak on the phone with regularly, that when their numbers come up on caller id I pick it up without any force of guilt. Now, people, you must understand, at some point in my life, a switch went off in my head and I began to strongly dislike talking on the phone. I think I can pinpoint it to the days following college. I blame it on joining the work force and having to speak on the phone 8 hours a day. Or maybe I can blame it on a long distance relationship where a large portion of the work was done via the phone. Either way, there is no feeling of joy when my phone rings anymore, it was stripped from me. Now I know, there are some of you who are reading this who are thinking that now each time you call and I don't answer it is because you have not been put in the circle of phone friendly people. Think about, if I know you read this site, do you really think I would share this dark little secret if you weren't part of the circle? Obviously you are, because the people who aren't, I would never admit it to! So, as I sat at my window this morning, I was going through the list of people I have not called. I put them into two categories: People I haven't called and I want to talk to and People I haven't called and am feeling forced to talk to. In the first group, that would include my sister Liz, my Granny, and my friend Melissa. These people I want to call. These people I feel terrible that I haven't spoken to and when one of them called me this weekend I was on the verge of vomiting so I didn't want her to have to hear me in such a condition (you know who you are and you I know love you!). Now, the second group is a very touchy subject as I will definitely being pissing a parental figure off. But, this is my site and I must get this off my chest (which is growing each and every day mind you). I will not mention any names as I am mysterious and tricky. But here is the thing about this group of people. It is not like I don't care about this group, I do, sometimes. It is just that it takes a lot of energy that I tend not to have these days to carry on a conversation with them. Maybe it's because I don't like you but am afraid to tell you. Maybe it's because although I love sitting back hearing about your life and find that fascinating, I don't really feel like reciprocating and telling you about mine because I have just talked to much that day. If the phone call could just be one sided, you talk, I listen, maybe I would be eager to call you. Or maybe it's because I hold a grudge against you that I don't want to let go of because it's the only way that I can feel just a little control over the situation.
(Warning: Here's the part where I tick off parental figures).
You must dig a little into my past to appreciate this frustration and internal argument that occurs within. As a child, I was tormented and picked on by certain family members. These people were nasty to me. They had the ability to make me feel inadequate and that my sheer existence was pathetic. If you could look into my 12 year old mind, it would say that these people caused me tell myself the following things: I am ugly, I have ugly clothes which make me look even uglier, I am an outcast. The list could go on, but I think you get the idea of how cruel kids can make innocent kids feel worthless especially when the adults that you trust are not defending you. I always felt like the one person in life who should be backing me up, stepping up to the plate and fighting for their flesh and blood let me down. Just recently I said to this person how these individuals always think that they are better than me as if we had been in a competition and their response was "They do!" almost as if to say that it is acceptable for people to feel that way about your daughter. Here is the thing: It's not acceptable. I could give a damn if they are your nieces or nephews, your own flesh and blood comes first. I love my nieces and nephews as if they are my own. But I am pretty sure that if any of them made my child feel the way that these people made me feel, I would not tolerate it one bit. I will always be on my child's side even if it means standing against my precious nieces and nephews. I didn't get that respect and still don't. As an adult, after having to fight these people on my own for my entire childhood, I don't have a desire to make nice with them now. I hold resentment towards them because I have always felt that they own a piece my parent's heart that they don't deserve. And now, I am to play nice. I am to act as if we are equals, that we are the same. I am even to accept the belief that I have a lot in common with these people. Why? Because we are all married and pregnant? Just because we all have the ability to get pregnant doesn't mean that we are now equals. Did anyone realize that I took a completely different path to get to this point in my life? I don't want the playing field to be level because we played the game differently. As they were investing money into putting collagen into their lips, silicone into their boobs** and getting the fat sucked out of their hips, I was tirelessly working on paying for and obtaining a college degree. As they were moving back in with their parents in between breaking up with their various live in boyfriends I was moving back in with my mom in between college breaks. I have only walked down the aisle once, don't have divorce decrees that I can paper my walls with, and didn't start smoking at 12 only to now have to kick the habit only because I'm pregnant. I am not better than you, you are not better than me. We have lead completely separate lives with completely separate set of choices. Things done in childhood though can scar you into adulthood. I don't know if I can move on, if I want to let go of this grudge that I hold. I don't know if I can call you up and pretend, like certain people believe, that we are so much alike. I keep looking at the above evidence, sort through it and believe that there is nothing left to salvage. It might have been nice that you called. It might have been nice that you now cared. But it's a little too late for that. The fact that we have the ability to get pregnant is all we have common and that just won't make for a long conversation at this point.
P.S. Parental figure, I love you to pieces, but this situation frustrates me to no end. I can't act like I don't feel this way.
** Not saying there is anything wrong with silicone boobs. I plan on purchasing a few after having babies.
Where the heck have I been? Geez, I don't even know how to answer that. Last week was extremely crazy, I do know that. I felt so consumed with grief over my friends situation that my problems and concerns just seemed petty compared to what they were going through. I felt so emotionally drained that sitting down to journal seemed like a task far to complicated for me to handle.
Then Jenn came....so that sorta kept me busy. Yes, she kept me away from my obligation of my site, but it was great having her here. Especially since promptly at week 6 the dreaded morning sickness began. Why the heck do they call it morning sickness? Really I think that term is quite misleading to every newly pregnant woman out there. The term is defined as only being sick in the morning, that's it...afternoon and evening is expected to be non-sick hours, right? Really, it's false advertising. Get pregnant, only deal with being sick in the morning and then the rest of the day is all yours to do with it what you want. I feel a lawsuit brewing here folks. And let's talk about boob changes. Didn't know it was possible to outgrow ALL your bra's in 7 weeks. Do you know how uncomfortable it is to wear a bra that is now like 2 sizes to small? So, I am desperately scrounging around for anyone who might be a size larger than me. I refuse to go spead over $20 for a bra that might not fit next month, heck, at the rate I am growing....hmmm, I won't go there, this is a family friendly site, right?
I did reach 7 weeks on Friday though. And then promptly Saturday morning I spotted. Brown blood, just a little but it still makes me feel uncomfortable. The doctor says that I shouldn't worry, easy for them to say since they didn't just miscarry. I haven't freaked out, I have remained calm which is not like me. But, there is not much I can do to control this. I can't beg the baby not to miscarry. I can't hang myself from my feet hoping to keep everything inside. There is not a darn thing I can do and flipping out does me no good. The upcoming ultrasound though will confirm what I am hopefully holding onto. As much as I am whining about the sickness, it is a great reminder that something is still growing inside me.
Okay my dear internet. The poor hubs got into an accident this morning and I am supposed to be sitting her consoling him and instead I am more concerned about you than him! I promise to be a better internet friend this week.
