12w4d

I am technically only 12w3d but dammit, I have an hour!

I promise I will scan our next Ultrasound picture.

I have been gone for awhile due to exhaustion and timing and just enjoying this gift.

I had very easy to control morning sickness until about 9 weeks when BAM! I lost control. It was a rough 18 days of vomit. But I have felt better since. I caught te flu. The doctor told me I could throw everything up for 12 hours but after that, I had best get my butt to the ER. So, just an hour shy of 12 hours, I ate 2 bites of Gee's bagel, had 2 sips of water and went to bed. TADA! I survived and woke up to eat a whole bagel and then 2 hours later a pizza. I made half an extra large pizza last 8 hours because more than 1 piece at a time will KILL my stomach.

I finally realized how to poop. It comes like clock work. Three small pebbles every hour for 3 hours. Apparently that is fine. I had been nervous about showing my ultrasound picture to people because I am convinced you can tell how full of shit I am in it. I only know what the uterus is and what the baby is in it (It was taken at like 10 weeks 4 days) and all that other stuff could be poop as far as I know.

Either way, tomorrow my MIL is getting a framed picture of it for her birthday. And for 's Mother's Day the two Great Grandmother's, and Two Grandmother's are getting framed pictures of the Ultrasound we will be getting Monday.

Yay!

I no longer think I am having a boy. I think I am having a stroller. I dream about my stroller. It is the only thing I can for sure picture in my head. I see a mass of blankets inside of it and that is it. And bitches better stop stealing my stroller in my dreams because I wake up in a panic.

My dream last night was awful. My MIL (in my dream) bought us a wicker pink and white bassinet. It was beautiful. Then she died. My MIL. We were comforting my FIL when suddenly he decided he needed money and wanted to pawn my bassinet. So Gee and I chased him trying to stop him but Gee ended up being too afraid to stand up to his father about it. Then Gee woke me up and when I shared this dream he asked me to never share it again. AKA do not tell anyone how much of a jerk his father is. Because his dad really would do that if a bassinet were worth pawning.

We have done nothing. The plan was that by this weekend the house would be cleaned and organized and the nursery would be empty of everything besides a crib. The nursery is packed full of things that need to be organized and stored in the attic or given away or sold at a garage sale. The house is at it's worst ever. Doing dishes has made me throw up at least 12 times and I have finally given up. Gee sucks at dishes and is just refusing. So, I am trying to find a good time to pay my mother to do it for me. I did clean and organize the living room Thursday after I recovered from my flu. I also have managed to keep up with the bathroom. Today I cleaned off the dining room table and maybe tomorrow I will organized everything else in the dining room. That is probably as far as I will get this weekend.

We have not bought the crib. It was meant to be the 12 week gift to ourselves but we failed. We still have some fears.

Speaking of. After this long of trying and so many losses, I am allowed to be the crazy pregnant woman who obsesses over every twinge, every feeling, every symptom. I am allowed to continue to check for blood everytime I pee. I am allowed to lay in bed for hours just trying to imagine the "What ifs". Recently some of my friends decided that I am not. Okay, just 2 people who have never had a loss. One got pregnant on accident, one got pregnant on accident once and then tried for 8 months for number 2. For 4 of those months her husband wasn't even sure he wanted another child at the time. So, when I finally got pregnant, we talked. At first number 1 was complaining about how she wanted to be induced from the time she was 34 weeks. Friend number 2 was bitching about her pregnancy before I even got pregnant. Bitching to an infertile! It is a crime. But apparently I commited a cardinal sin.

I am sorry I am a crazy pregnant woman. Switch me places and let's see how you feel.



Everything else is dandy. I promise I will update Monday or Tuesday after the ultrasound.


Bobi

Friday Night Leftovers

Okay I will make this short and sweet.

• My boss quit. I may end up with head teacher position.


• Almost told my boss "I am pregnant! I can't lift 20 toddlers weights 20-40 lbs 60 times in 5 minutes!" Luckily I did not. Well, she quit about an hour later any way.


• According to Gee it is okay for me to drink pepsi because "You're only like a week and half pregnant anyway"


• bite me bitch. I now officially have a makeshift placenta and a beating heart.


• Yes, that is going into the pregnancy journal.


• If he keeps this up, his child will hate him. "He is only like 3 years old." "Dad, I am in 6th grade!"


• Karma is a bitch. When I spent a weekend throwing up everything, all my pregnant friends said "It gets better." Which hey, better ot not, it is worth it. But now, those bitches are paying. Two of them are surviving on water and vitamins. And one is so sick she has not had sex in a month.


• I am a sex addict. Okay, maybe not, but if I could, I would do it every single day. We are being cautious and probably stupid, and only having sex once a week. Which means, all my weird pregnancy dreams seem to involve sex.


• Example: Gee and I are having sex and right as the big O comes, he pulled away and screamed. Then I yelled at him, and he held up a hand of our baby and said "It is out!" I woke up instantly and stripped the bed looking for our baby who apparently Gee left under the covers to die of SIDS! It took a full minute for me to realize that I have the baby. At all times.


• Pretty convinced I am farther along than I thought. Not sure how. Early ovulation? Just strange.

Thanks for visiting. I am boring and in a hurry to sleep. Sorry about that. It is kind of my thing.

Hopefully Danifred has something more interesting to discuss, even though she is on a visit to see family.

Bobi

WHOA! Jen, you and your family are in my prayers. I will pray for your little angel. I am so sorry. I always think that 12 weeks is some magic number. This reminds me that life after 12 weeks (which I have never experienced) is not always smooth sailing. Jen, Bless you for your strength.

Rich. Whore. Bitch.

Those are the words that were used to describe yours truly as she exited the YWCA this afternoon. I had walked in and was in the middle of culture shock.
Babies on the floor screaming. Ghetto mama's screaming at each other. And no one caring for either.

So after I checked in with the receptionist, I sat my butt down at the chair farthest from the drama and started texting a few friends. Then the receptionist called me back up and I pulled my Coach wallet from 1996 out of my purse and gave her my I.D. and was sent to the fingerprinting room.
When I finished I walked out and stopped to hold the door for a woman carrying in a toddler and an infant. Then I heard "Fucking Rich Whore. Stupid Bitch, thinking she is better than us."
First of all, I do not believe that any living creature is better than another. But I believe we make better choices than others. Sitting there just reminded me how lucky I am. And how unlucky I am. These women probably did not realize I was jealous of them.

They have children. Lots of children. This irony of infertility amazes me. How can a woman living at the YWCA get pregnant but a woman with her own home, a wedding ring, and financial stability not get pregnant?

Happy 50TH!

HAPPY 50TH POST!

Eh, not so happy really. Job is great, next Monday I start at the preschool.
Not so great, our taxes. I forgot that this year we have to pay back our Home Buyer's credit. Which is $500. That still means we get a bit back right? WRONG.
Gee's work did not take out any school taxes. So, we owed them a lot. After all is said and done, we owe $150.
I have only owed once before, and that was $18000 from inheritance. This seriously sucks. I would have been happy with breaking even, but paying is just not acceptable. And for the third year in a row I was told "Better start making those little tax deductions" I HAVE BEEN TRYING! Cant I add up that in the last year I have had 2 miscarriages, add them up, which is 14 weeks or so, and claim them for 14 weeks? Or can I just get credit for trying? My best friend has two children, she told me her return.....wait for it...

wait for it......










$7591!!!!!!!!!

I would take 1/100 of that.

Damn babies. I only have a month to get knocked up in order to get one for next year. I am willing to bet $2000 that it will not happen. Any takers?

Oh, and my last infertile real life friend, is pregnant.

I am SO LONELY!




Not my normal musical preference, but dammit, I am So Lonely.


Bobi

I am not Professional.

We were at a level 3 snow emergency last night.
BBBB told my employees they still had to go in.
But because we are not considered "Emergency" workers, we were told by a police officer to stay off the roads.
I agreed with this and told BBBB that my employees lives are not worth 3 hours pay, and that our consumer's family lives with him anyway, they can pass meds if we cannot make it in.
BBBB yelled and screamed at me. Saying things such as "WE are going to lose his medicaid contract!" "His family are not staff" "Youre staff are being lazy!" etc. I said "No, you will not speak to me like this. Call me when you can control yourself." And then i hung up. I proceeded to call BBBB's boss, and he said "She is pregnant, what do you expect?" and i replied "Well, thats fine because I was pregnant a month ago, and i missed my chance to do this" and hung up on him.
No one has called me back. My employees arranged it so the ones who lived a block away could head in, and my employee who lives out by me (26 miles and 40 minutes on a good day) and I could sit on our asses today.
When I told my husband how much hanging up I did last night, he goes "Geez! Theyre gonna fire you now." They wont. How do I know? I am 12 days away from being gone, and they really do not want to pay unemployment. It took 4 no call no shows, countless call offs, countless last minute call offs, and 3 weeks of a girl (Who later said she had been trying to get fired for 6 months) just not doing her job, for them to fire her.

So, I am safe, and I am no longer professional. Atleast not if "Professional" are the same thing as BBBB and her boss are. I am nothing like that!



Bobi

The A Word.

So on Saturday I felt a little sick in the evening. Then tha night all hell broke loose. Both ends. At the same time. While I was running to the bathroom.
Now my husband and I took vows, but he never agreed to shit and vomit cleaning. But he did. I felt even more disgusting though, just knowing that he cleaned up after me like I was a child or a dog.
I thought it was that GI flu going around, but it only lasted 2 hours. Kind of strange. Then sunday I noticed I had a runny nose. And so I claimed to still be sick in order to avoid a baby shower I had been planning to attend. It is for one of my friends. We were never best friends, more like high school drinking buddies. And then we went our seperate ways as we matured. Only staying in contact via facebook and texting. And this spring/early summer she and her long time boyfriend broke up. Then I guess she was late or something and she took a test. It was positive. So she and the boyfriend got back together and now are living happily ever after. She is having a girl.
While I am happy for them, or atleast I try to be, I feel the normal angst of "why not me?" That is the hardest part about infertility. I feel like a teenager who says "my life is so horrible" dispite having such a wonderful life. That's me.
I have great friends, a loving-shit-and-vomit-cleaning husband, great pets, a nice house, a shitty job, but life for me is good. Better than most people my age. But why not me? That's always in my mind.
Which brings me to Adoption Stories. Since I am sick and can't breath (runny nose turned into severe sinus headaches and that feeling of my head being 200 lbs) I am lying on the couch watching Adoption Stories.
Which gives me more angst. I feel guilty for not accepting adoption into my heart. I could love any child. My own or someone else's. Under any circumstance, hell, that is basically my job. But I cannot accept the process. You decide to adopt. You get background checks, criminal checks, they check to see if medically you are healthy (who is these days?) and then they check to make sure you are sane (yet again, who is these days?) then they see if your marriage is durable and loving. Major issue here, anyone can fake it until they believe it. I've watched people adopt 6 different children, and then just months after the last child was official they divorced. It came out that the wife had been "living a double life" and had a man on the side for 8 years of her 14 year marriage, and she played a step mom to his 2 kids. But this entire time they were considered to have a healthy marriage. INSANITY!
Then they do a home study, which we would fail because we have a "banned breed". Nevermind the fact that she loves children and is working to become a therapy dog. And we have a "normal dog" who has what we consider puppy autism and cannot be trust around children***. Then you wait. And wait. And wait. Then when you do get the call, you dish out thousands of dollars to get the child. Wait some more to make it official, and wait some more to make sure that nothing goes wrong. I think that sounds AWFUL! Give me a child today, and I promise, no matter what I will love and care for that child. But if I have to jump through hoops just to get that chance, and worry that the child may be taken away before he/she is even in my arms, I'm not okay with that.

*** A is a wonderful dog. For 2 people. Any choas and he can't handle it. We have tried trainer after trainer, and while we still use some of their methods, we have realized that he is this way due to genetics, and that we just need to love him, and keep him away from others for his own safety. If we had a child it wouldn't be different. Our house has the ability to be sectioned off into atleast 5 different parts. A hangs out in his "room" (the cupboard under our stairs) and in his daddy's game room. And of course outside. He has to be kept away from M most of the time. If a bunch of kids were to run through our yard, or someone show up, or something scare him, or something along those lines, he wouldn't know where to send his emotions, or how to deal with them. So they come out in anger and angression. Its all fear and anxiety based. So he could harm M. He has bit me twice, but once he has realized it is me, he has immediately ran away to hide. I usually ignore him, (he has never broken my skin) and let him calm down and he will come see me when he is ready. He has never bit my husband. When he gets really scared we usually can rub his butt (which calms most dogs) and talk in low voices and depending on the situation we may take him to his room. The cupboard is insulated so he can't hear things as loudly, and it is dark, so he isn't in "sensory overload" so much. During tornadoes the cupboard is our only spot to go, so one of us holds him, and the other holds M, and then the cats are in a carrier. A has done very well. I usually hold him, just because we have to sit indian style (or the more correct term "hot cross buns") in order to fit, and A weighs around 80 lbs, and if he steps on my husbands baby makin' equipment I may never get a child. So, A is mine in emergencies. A also has a weird obsession with my step dad. My step dad loves bulldogs. Loves. Loves. Loves. And A is a bulldog. So even as a baby, A would run to my step dad while M went to my mom. Its just their thing. A always got over excited upon seeing S.D., but as a 10 lbs doggie it didn't seem like a big deal. But once he hit 50 lbs it became a big deal. He bounces, and jumps and goes crazy. (He can't control the agression, so it has come out before but S.D. Knows how to calm him) so usually we just have to give A a little break and time to realize "My grampy is here and I get to see him!" And slowly we reintroduced "Grampy". A has a small entrance to his "room" or "hidey hole" as I like to call it. So after A has come out to say Hi we send him back in, and then wait for him to calm down, then my SD can talk to A, and A will talk back (he talks a lot. He even says Maaaaaaaaaaoooooaaaoaoooaoaoaoam when he wants me and Ggggrrrrrrraaaaag usually means dad) and then after A's talking gets quieter, my SD will walk to the entrance and pet A, then usually my SD will climb in to A's hidey hole, and they'll hang out in there. They wrestle, and snuggle and talk. Its seriously like an episode of "wolf man" or the "bear whisperer" who ulitmately got ate, so ill stick with "wolf man". But A is a good baby, he just has special needs. And honestly, as the vet and the last 2 trainers have told me, giving him to someone else, is giving someone a loaded gun, and if we put him down, I would feel guilty, because I know that if my child had special needs, and was a danger to himself and others, I wouldn't kill my child. So I won't kill A. We just have to protect everyone, so A stays in his hole when anyone besides my Mom and SD comes to visit, and when he goes outside we are usually in the mudroom watching him, or we are outside with him.

As for right now, the freezing rain has hit us and is pushing the snow off the roof, and the icecicles are falling by my window, and its scaring me. M is calm, so I know it isn't a burglar, but dammit I'm still afraid! A is oblivious. He is a sleepy guy right now.

Anywho, I'm going to post this and then see if I can get back to sleep. More job hunting today as it is my only day off until next monday.

Bobi