When you say nothing at all ~

I've been thinking lately of those awkward moments when someone is hurting and you would do anything to make it stop. As you grasp for the right words to say all that comes to mind are cliches - which you want to make seem heart felt. People mean well, but can say the stupidest things.

Take miscarriages for instance. "It just wasn't right, it's God's way, It'll happen for you, you can always try again". What's the right thing to say?

I sat between two beautiful, smart, amazing women while waiting for a table one night. I was slouched down with my hand on my stomach feeling the baby kick while they talked about giving themselves horomone shots in their stomach. I held my breath to keep from crying. I wanted to tell them how brave I think they are, how deserving they are - but I didn't say much. There have been many times that I have felt undeserving of my pregnancy. There are so many other women that have tried so hard. I got pregnant the first month of trying. I honestly just don't get it. My heart aches for couples with fertility problems.

A coworker of mine lost her little girl to brain cancer. She had people tell her "well - at least you have other children, she's in a better place..."

When I was attacked by a man that had climbed through my windown I had people say "well - at least he didn't actually rape you, at least you weren't hurt". Yes - this is true, but sexual predators enjoy the humiliation of their crime. Not the sex or the pain inflicted.

I have made the decision to stop trying to grasp for just the right thing to say. Nothing that I can say is going to take away their pain or suddenly make them feel better. They know that if they need anything I am here. They know that if they need to talk I am here. They know that I am sorry. I am not some wise woman that is going to make the earth quake with my amazing advice. I will say that I am sorry - give them a hug. And to quote Keith Whitley - You say it best, when you say nothing at all.

I don't rule.

I have officially moved from damn uncomfortable to pretty miserable. I didn't sleep at all last night due to my swollen, tender legs and needing to pee. I woke up with bags under my eyes like I've never seen before (and I'm sure will see again once the baby is here) and went to the restroom. I stood up and nearly dropped to my knees. It felt like someone had kicked me in the crotch. I went from leaning back when I walked to leaning over like an old woman. I showed up at work 10 minutes late with wet hair, no make up and shuffling very slow.

My appointment was at 10:15. As I drove this is what I imagined....

I arrive to the doctor, pee in a cup (one of those satisfactory pees, not a pregnant "are you kidding me... I had to go so bad and that's it?!" pees). They call me back right away and my weight and blood pressure are fine. Actually for the first time ever I didn't even think about the scale until I was nearly to the doctor's office. The doctor does the exam and her eyes get very big - I'm ____ cm dialted! (I leave that blank because I don't know exactly what would warrant this wonderful reaction from my doctor). She then tells me that I'm nearly ready and need to get to the hospital stat! She can't believe how far I've progressed. I must be really great at labor and child birth! I then imagined the phone calls to Brian and others and try to think of the best way to get my hospital bag to the hospital. I picture frantic people while I calmly go across the street to the hospital and check myself in with a smug smile because I well - I obviously Rule!

What actually happened:

I arrive to the doctor and check in and have a $71 balance. I post date a check for Friday and can tell that the receptionist is a little irritated. I go to pee and hardly anything comes out. I get a little on my hand because of the China swelling. I sit in the waiting room and make friends with the lady next to me (I do this a lot... ). Come to find out her app't is at 10 and mine is at 10:15. It is after 11 before I am called back. I gained 3 lbs and my blood pressure is fine. The nurse is concerned by my appearance and checks me for a fever - a sign that you might look as crappy as you feel! I undress from the waist down and wait, and wait, and finally the doctor comes in. She has a hard time finding the heart beat because Evelynn kicks the doppler and keeps avoiding it (she is SO going to be a little stinker!!!). The doctor looks exhausted and keeps trailing off in the middle of sentences. She tells me that her father is in bad health and that she will have a doctor filling in for her deliveries for a few days. Ok - yeah, whatever... please stick your arm in me. She does and says that there isn't a change. But, she didn't even seem to check much - it was a very half-assed internal. She tells me that she really wants to go to bed. Ok - yeah... can we try that again? I have to pry to make sure that everything is exactly the same. So I'm 50% effaced? Yes. And a fingertip dialated? Yes, I couldn't even feel her head. And her head's at a -1? Yes. I ask her if she thinks I'll go early and she says we should know more next week. Then she walks out! She left my chart and I totally tried to go through it to see if she wrote that I was a crappy patient or anything but I didn't find anything juicy. She didn't even leave me a wipey and a panty liner. Just left.

I walked out feeling deflated. I don't rule. I'm not in labor and still working 40 hours a day and putting up with my husband. I haven't progressed in seven whole days! I call two girlfriends - one that is pregnant and the other that has a 12 month old and tell them what a failure I am. I then went to Sonic and got a burger (which was yucky) a large tater tot (my serious craving) and a watermelon diet coke. This made me feel a little better.

I better kick ass at the next app't. I have decided I may even try to seduce my husband. I'm quite irresistable right now! However... if I can't sleep comfortably how in the hell am I going to do anything else remotely comfortably? Comments gladly accepted - with diagrams please. Please also use stick figures because then I'll appear skinny.

A picture of Evelynn's Delivery

I still may need the epidural.

And the award goes to....

Me! On today for the largest and most dramatic hormonal breakdown. I actually left myself completely exhausted after this one.
I haven't had too many breakdowns in the second and third trimester. In the first trimester I once cried for 20 minutes because Brian sneezed on my arm. In the second trimester I would get a little teary-eyed now and then but the times that Brian had to hand me a paper towel and the phone to call my sister were quite minimal.
Today we needed to go and pick up the stroller, car seat and extra car seat base (plus a couple other things I threw on the credit card and didn't tell Brian about) from WalMart's site to store. I don't know about stores outside of my area but this concept at our Prescott Supercenter is so foreign to the employees it's ridiculous. I actually got lectured today for not bringing in my email or order number. Last time I brought both and was told that I didn't need them. All of this lecturing occured before she even tried to pull things up by my last name! Of course she found it and carted everything out to our car. She told me all about her adult kids and what they were up to and asked when I was due. Blah, blah, blah. Brian ditched me to pull the car around. Lucky bastard.
So then we went to Kmart to get curtain rods (for the super cute sheer embroidered curtains that I also purchased) - oh and hot dog buns for his football watching today. I had asked him all morning long what time he intended to go to his buddy's house. Turns out I was dropping him off then and there. This didn't bother me but the fact that he had known and just chosen not to answer my questions is one thing that I just don't get! He does this to me all of the time and then accuses me of being nosey, too talkative, etc. Just answer my question! So I yelled and nagged all the way across the parking lot (we had parked at the garden center and left at the other exit). A couple of times I imagined beating him with the curtain rod (perhaps this is when the horomones really started to kick in...). Across the entire parking lot nag, nag, nag... bitch, bitch, bitch all while waving a curtain rod and waddling. By the time I climbed into my father in law's jeep (borrowed for picking up the goods) I looked at him and said oh so sweetly "you should poor your drink into my McDonald's cup so you can drink it with ice and a straw - it will taste better". He was like "weren't you just yelling at me?" I ignored him. Then I tried to put on my seatbelt. I would pull to link it and it wouldn't budge. Pull, nothing. Let it go - pull, nothing. I started to feel myself get really hot. At this point I looked up to see Brian checking out this girl (who I admit was actually quite hot) and I lost it. I cried so hard that I literally couldn't breathe. I stopped breathing. When I could breathe I gasped the words "and I can't get my seatbelt to work". Brian slowed down so that I could open the door because I had apparently closed the door on the seatbelt. This somehow added fuel. It broke my heart and I cried harder and harder. Then I laughed - hysterically, and broke back into tears.
This lasted for approximately five miles until my very wise husband distracted me by pointing out nice houses and ugly houses. This is one of our favorite past times. I like that tree, oh look at those shutters, I would be pissed if those were my neighbors... and so on.
And - other than my sheer exhaustion and lack of mascara and dignity - it was like nothing happened.
I'd like to thank my horomones, without them this momentous occasion would not have been possible. I would also like to thank my husband for being an ass and amazing all in one and last of all I would like to thank God... for blessing me with this experience. It's been a wild one, but I am one of the luckiest girls in the world.

Hump day takes on a different meaning -

As in that's what got me here and that's about it. My appointments are now every Wednesday morning until I deliver.

I went in this morning and I'm up 22 lbs total. The NP said that there is at least 5 lbs of water in my feet and calves. A part of me wanted that in writing. Blood pressure is good and baby's heart rate is good. She did the Strep B test and then an internal. As of last week Evelynn had moved head down, centered and low.

This week I'm 50% effaced, a finger nail dialated and her head is at a -1. I was shocked because I haven't noticed and braxton hicks contractions (maybe a couple but that's it). The doctor said that I have obviously been having plenty and must have a high pain tolerance. Ha! God I wish this were true - however I'm pretty damn sure it's not. I always remember Daffy Duck on Looney Tunes saying "I'm not good with pain - it hurts me!"

I feel like the gears are grinding and beginning to turn, what a strange feeling that anytime between now and mid-November will be my daughter's birthday...

I will sign off now and get back to the jar of peanut butter on my desk with the plastic spoon. Snack of champions!

It's tearing up my heart -

No matter what I eat for dinner it equals killer heartburn. I say this knowing that there is not heartburn that is not killer. I have always had a stomach of steel and this is honestly the first time that I've even experienced heartburn and I have so much sympathy for those that suffer all of the time! I had no clue that life could be that miserable. It has brought on puking, insomnia, sweats, diarrhea, excessive burping and farting and much more. If my husband was afraid to sleep with me before because of the baby he has a whole list of reasons these days!

I guess this is the time of the pregnancy that miserable symptoms outweigh the fear of delivery. Add to that the excitement of meeting your baby I can see why women say that they are ready for it to be over. I'm not quite there yet as I still have a list of reasons why I'd rather suffer from heartburn than push something ginormous out of me that I've never met and then take it home and care for it - not knowing how to do so. Give me a few weeks and I'm sure I will be more than ready to take on whatever I need to in order to walk regular again, eat food without washing it down with Tums, gingerale and Maalox and go more than an hour without needing to pee.

Lately I have had the strangest feelings come over me. I realize that pregnancy makes us super emotional - but up until now they have all been emotions I can name. Happy, cranky, psycho, constipated, etc. This one doesn't have a name.

I am in baby limbo. I've started to do her laundry (which resulted in a complete melt down when I realized that I don't know how to fold baby clothes) and I've started to pack a hospital bag, but there's only so much I can do. Perhaps this is the calm before the storm. And by storm I mean the calm before crazy nesting sets in. I am tired, but restless and have a constant choke in my throat but I'm not sure if I'm going to laugh or cry. It's that feeling when someone comes up behind you and grabs your ribs - you don't know if you want to laugh, smack them, run, jump or cry but you are ready to react and usually don't.

Some women have Restless Leg Syndrome during the latter part of their pregnancy. I have restless arm syndrome. I have to shake them out a few times before I can fall asleep. They want to be doing something and that something doesn't exist yet. A lot of times it's as if they are causing me to fall. I love it when Evelynn shows up in my dreams - but usually my dreams last all night and are completely jumbled and confusing. I used to have dreams that I had a baby and would care for it all night. The next day my arms would be so heavy because they longed for the weight of the baby - perhaps my whole body is now on alert for her arrival.

Speaking of arrival I think that we should start guessing Evie's b-day. I'm due on November 10th but anything after October 14th is full term. Leave a comment or email me your guess.

My guess is October 25th.

Being 34 weeks pregnant is having vivid dreams of holding and feeding my baby girl, waking up to pee for the 6th time and then praying that she shows back up as I fall back asleep.

My bump, my bump - my lovely baby bump!

Weekly Irrational Fears

Since the moment I found out that I was pregnant I have been plagued by what I refer to as "weekly irrational fears" Some are far more silly than others but I've been told that the constant worrying doesn't go away once the baby gets here. No wonder mothers seem so crazy!

The first fear is miscarriage. I went through the phone calls in my mind where I would have to call up people and say "never mind - we're not expecting anymore". Never before have you examined toilet paper after you wipe so closely.

Then you worry about stretch marks, your husband finding you attractive, the scale hitting proposterous numbers and so on.

This was followed by SIDS, Downs, Autism and any other disease that you hear about. I had to veto shows like "Babies: Special Delivery" and "Diagnosis X".

I was stuck on the fear of pooping during labor for a while and then I watched a Baby Story where the woman in labor freaked out and started making the strangest noises. I was so scared that I was going to "make an ass of myself" during labor. I even asked my Aunt (who I hadn't talked to in a couple of years) who's an OB nurse if she's ever embarrassed for the women in labor. She said no so I felt a little better.

Other fears have included:
1. Evelynn loving her dad more than me.
2. Dropping the baby
3. Post partum depression
4. Having an anxiety attack during labor
5. The epidural needle hitting my spine and paralyzing me.
6. Brian dying and leaving me alone to raise the baby.
7. My boobs haven't started leaking yet, this means that my milk won't come in and I will be looked down upon by other mommies. I even squeezed my boobs to see if anything would come out. Not a very proud moment.
8. Falling off of the counter while watering my plants on top of my kitchen cupboards (Brian's been given this job)
9. Not feeling connected to the baby.
10. Not being ready to be a mother.
11. A C-Section.
12. That she'll hate her name.
13. Pedophiles
14. The way teen girls dress these days.
15. That she won't be cute and I will be oblivious while others talk about how not cute my baby is.
16. That Brian and I will suddenly hate eachother and I will end up divorced and Evelynn will say "my parents split when I was very young".

And many more.

I would love to say that this is a new thing with pregnancy. But I have had strange irrational fears all my life. I can't shower without looking out the shower curtain every few moments to make sure that no one is watching me. When I shampoo my hair I have to have one eye open at all times. This way if I can keep checking outside the shower curtain and if I get soap in that eye I can use the other one. I hate being in places where I can't breathe well - saunas, convertibles, tanning booths, Phoenix. I am petrified of statues because they seem like they are soul-less beings. I have to touch something before I touch a light switch or appliance for fear of electrocution.

I will sign off before two men run in with a straight jacket from the asylum.

3D Ultrasound

This was seriously an awesome experience. And, as I figured, my baby has a little attitude. Once again she had her hand over her face and at one point she stuck out her tongue! I am in love though. She is so cherub-like and sweet. I am so glad that they waited to do it until she had some body fat on her - any younger and they look really creepy (or creepier depending on if you think that these ones are creepy... which, many do and that's ok).

The crankiness comes and goes but I am not miserable. On days like today I just love my live (despite my crappy job) and I love my family. I am a very lucky girl. I have a healthy baby in me and a wonderful stepson, a pain in the ass husband and a great dog! Honestly add to this an excuse to eat hamburgers and lay with my feet elevated who could ask for more?

Cranky Thy Name is Me

I have officially started the "maybe this isn't so much fun" part of my third trimester. Which - is to be followed by the "I hate the world" and then "I am going to reach out and get this kid out myself if it doesn't come soon" part of the third trimester.

First off - I'm pretty sure that my doctor's office has stock in the lab. They sent me to get 6 vials of blood drawn and two urine samples taken in a matter of a week and a half. Even though my glucose test was fine they said that the second draw was one point high so I have to follow the gestational diabetes diet which has me eating seven, yes seven, times a day. And not fun things like cake and hamburgers. String cheese, boiled eggs, etc. I am sick of chewing. On top of that I'm anemic and have to take Iron pills twice a day (on top of all the other prenatals and fish oils) that make me sick.

I have never had trouble sleeping. Ever. If anything I have trouble waking and staying awake. Now even though I'm exhausted I lay there with my eyes wide open. Every time I need to change positions I grunt and exhale as if I were performing a task for the Olympics.

The other night my ankles were so swollen that I had to laugh out loud. I had never seen one of my body parts in such an unknown position. About an inch up my leg was literally rolled over and touching the top of my foot. Not unlike an elephant's foot. Not even cankles. Just thigh - followed directly by swollen toes.

My anger goes from zero to 800 in no time at all. I boil over anything (but mostly nearly everything my husband says or does) I'm pretty sure that he's expecting my head to begin spinning around any time now.

Yes - I'm cranky but I'm also still elated. The baby is moving so much that my whole belly moves. I just lay there and watch her. I get to have my 3d ultrasound on the 6th of September so I get to see her little face. I read that she recognizes my voice (now if it were saying more than just cuss words!) I feel like I know her a little bit and that we share our own secrets. She is so close to me right now and I love it. I drum on my belly for her and sing country songs loudly. I stare at every little girl that I see these days and wonder what mine will be like. It's like I'm cranky outwards but completely dreamy inwards.

Despite being uncomfortable and waddling and breathing heavy I consider myself truly blessed.

Book Reviews

I read a ton of books and have decided to start talking about them on my blog - if not for anything else but for me to keep track of what I read and what I liked or disliked! (gotta love pregnancy brain)

Ignore the Search Inside logos - obviously I stole the cover shots from Amazon.com!

First of all - I love me some T.C. Boyle (or T.Coraghessan Boyle as his friends call him). One of the few authors that I check out the jacket cover picture more than once while reading his book. He looks like a more intense Gene Wilder in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and loves to pose in his vests and disheveled hair. I have read his collection of short stories and Tortilla Curtain. What strikes me as most interesting about his stories is that he points out a million ironies - without making a personal statement. Tortilla Curtain was about illegal Mexican Immigrants but you still wouldn't know if he was for or against border control. Drop City was about a hippie compound and a "mountain man" in Alaska and how their paths meet. He is by far the king of comparison and contrast and his books really make you think.

This book really hit home for me. I'm at a point in my life where I am beginning to think a little less liberal than I once did. I was a self-proclaimed hippie but now realize that it is a title that many hide behind. Like musician. Many musicians aren't musicians, they are people that don't want to work and would like to drink all day and have sex with random girls/guys. Many people (ahem Oakley's mother) claim to be hippies when really they're just lazy and can't handle being held accountable for their actions. They choose not to work at certain places or to live near that mountains for their "energy" when really they need to get their asses out of the woods and into the nearest Denny's to support their free love children. Also, they can't be choosey about where they live. And, even if you are picky about where you live... then why in the hell would you choose not to keep it clean? Isn't clutter bad for your CHI? And - this is the one that really gets me... if you're so anti-establishment how DARE you accept public assistance! The 17-year old Nisha would not have said these things.

The book makes you compare and consider -

- prostitution vs. free love vs. using your body and looks to get what you want

- living off the land vs. ruining the land

- vegetarians vs. meat eaters vs. fur trappers (and killing bugs vs. animals)

- revenge

- using ideals as they were meant vs for your own personal gain

- views of a woman's role in the world

And a whole lot more. And you're not spoon fed, not at all. He is subtle and you are constantly stopping to think.

Augusten Burroughs, how I love thee! I poured over Running with Scissors and Dry but have to admit that I really loved Magical Thinking. There were parts of Running w/ Scissors that made me cringe and perhaps Dry hit a little too close to home and my years of drinking profusely. Magical Thinking was very David Sedaris like (who I adore and would love to have lunch with someday. Picture it: Me, him, Stevie - a buffet! That's heaven right there is what it is). The only difference is he's a tad darker than Sedaris, which is ok by me. I do have to admit to skipping over one of the stories becaue it was about killing a rat thing and it made me too sad. I feel like I can hear the collective groans but I couldn't handle to think of him being sprayed with roach spray, helpless in a bathtub.

I also feel like I need to say that anyone that saw the movie Running with Scissors and based their decision on the book on that monstrosity - please think again. The book is 10x better. I know that everyone says that but I haven't had such a horrible book vs movie comparison since Memoirs of a Geisha, which I turned off after 10 minutes.

Burroughs is so raw and candid. Coming from a person that feels the need to divulge too much of myself to people this is very refreshing.

Also - if you're looking for an afternoon read I suggest My Horizontal Life, Confessions of a One-Night Stand by Chelsea Handler (from girls behaving badly). She is definitely much more of a comedian than a writer but once you get past that it's very enjoyable. Much like Jenny McCarthy Belly Laughs - take it for what it is and it will give back. I laughed out loud quite a few times. The way she described the naked midget jumping down off of the toilet about sent me over the edge. Or the man with the penis so small that it was like a little clitoris... classic! (p.s. can't say I can relate to the midget but the little penis thing - oh yeah). So for any girls that have had a drunken, hotacious period in their life this book is for you. . . and me!

Lab Strut

My glucose test came back just fine and that's a huge relief. Not to say that the test wasn't a pain in the ass. But, like most things - the building up to it was worse. It's like with getting my blood drawn, I hate it and I'm petrified of needles. But the moments leading up to getting my blood drawn are much worse than the action itself. Yes, the prick hurts but it's almost a relief when it finally happens. Speaking of which, my arms look like that of a heroin addict. Well, perhaps not that bad but they are pretty bruised. One woman missed the vein and dug with the needle until she found it. I was very relieved when I didn't get her again for the other three blood draws. The test didn't make me as sick as I thought it would but I was sure stuck on stupid. After not eating and drinking pure sugar I could hardly finish a full sentence. I can't tell you how excited I was to learn that Meagan and I were going to the Pizza Hut buffet afterwards. I walked in there like a champ and was like "let's get this over with" and after my fourth blood draw I'm pretty sure I strutted out of that lab.

My 3d ultrasound is scheduled! September 6, at 10:00. Sooooo excited to see what she looks like. Every time Brian and I get into the conversation of "I hope she has my _____ and your____" we end up offending eachother. He didn't know that I didn't want my children to have his thin lips. I didn't know that he wasn't a huge fan of my button nose!

I had another doctor's appointment yesterday and I am up 8 lbs total for the pregnancy. I am so relieved but know that this trimester is when the real action happens!

I have honestly loved the second trimester. For all my complaining I have had quite a bit of energy and have just been so happy and dreamy. I spend a lot of time in Evelynn's nursery touching all of her stuff and taking stuff out of drawers just to put them back in. Of course, money's a stress - but people do it every day with much less. Lord knows I didn't have a beautiful nursery or a closet full of things. I had young parents that lived in the basement of a friend's hotel. A haunted hotel at that! I can see why God made the third trimester so difficult. You have to be so sick of being pregnant to be ok with labor. If someone told me I was to give birth tomorrow I would not be ok - pregnancy isn't that bad! Sure I have a huge supply of Tums on my dresser, my gums bleed and I'm beginning to waddle. But I can live with this.

Oakley and I are reading Superfudge and that has been a huge help in him accepting the baby. He gets excited to read everynight and understands what he's reading and breaks out in huge belly laughs. Especially when Fudge tries to sell his little sister. He told me last night that he can't wait to see his sister. That's the first time he's said something endearing like that. Up until now he has just requested ear plugs so that he can sleep through the night.

Oh! At the doctor's office I nearly passed out. I was sitting there and broke out into a cold sweat like nothing I've ever experienced and saw spots. I had to lay down with my arms over my head. It took FOREVER for the doctor to come in and when she did I quickly told her that something just wasn't right. She said it was hypoglecemia (or is it hyper) and went to get me some cheese and a juice box. I felt better fairly quickly. Apparently I need to eat more than a bowl of frosted mini wheats in the morning. AND - they think I may have a UTI and I need to go to the lab and give a urine sample. I have put this off. I am so sick of that damn place!

Will give blood for cake

I've probably mentioned before that my future daughter enjoys cake - and her mother enjoys this craving also. For breakfast, lunch a snack - I love me some cake.

When I was only a few months pregnant I had a dream that I was walking through the baby clothes section of a department store, touching everything and crying because I had been diagnosed with gestational diabetes. This became one of my "weekly fears" (which have been everything from SIDS, pooping on the table, autism, downs and the baby loving her dad more than me). I cut down on the sugar a little bit but not all the way.

Fast forward to week 27 of my pregnancy and my 1-hour glucose test. The nurse practioner told me to cut out sugar for two days before it and eat a breakfast with protein beforehand. I thought I had it in the bag. I ate an egg-filled tortilla before the test and forced down the nasty orange concoction. 4 vials of blood and an hour later I was out the door and feeling very woozy. I honestly probably shouldn't have driven home.

On Tuesday my doctor's office called to say that they had test results back. I knew that meant something because they said that they would just go over the test results at my next app't (Monday the 20th) I called the next morning and she said that I am low on Iron and asked if I had been feeling tired. Hhhhhmmmm. Let me think - tired, pregnant - hell yes I'm feeling tired! Then I thought - HOT DAMN! I'm just low on Iron! Nope - not just low on Iron. They want your blood sugar below140 and mine was 152. SO I have to do the three hour test.

This has brought up so many of my irrational thoughts. I'm not good at being pregnant. Other women are better than me. If I weren't overweight, or had willpower to not eat cake then I would be fine. The doctor even told me that 90% of the time the 3-hour tests come out negative. But just that I have to be retested has sent me into a completely irrational spiral. I know that it has a lot to do with horomones and the emotions of pregnancy but I am so upset with myself. I went to bed at 8 last night and couldn't wake up this morning for the life of me. I had dreams that I couldn't remember which foods had protein in them.

Even if I do have gd then it's not the end of the world. I will just have to monitor my diet. I know this. I also know that 2-7% of women get it and that it goes away after pregnancy. I know that I'm lucky to have a healthy baby in me and a healthy pregnancy (as far as I can tell). Perhaps it's the thought of a retest. I wast the girl in Elementary school that NEVER had to retake her spelling test on Friday because I always aced it on Wednesday. Sometimes I did so well that I got to GIVE the Friday spelling test. Oh yes - I was that freakin cool.

Right now I want to cry. I picture the disapproving looks from other mom's with their Eddie Bauer strollers and sweaters perched on their shoulders when I tell them that I failed my one-hour glucose test. They will then tell me that they ate completely organic, met with their personal trainer daily and gave birth completely natural. Irrational? Yes - I know this. But when did a pregnant woman (with or without her Eddie Bauer stroller) ever claim to be rational? That's like claiming to not be tired.

My Baby Shower

My shower was super fantastic.

Heather, Clara and Brandy all did such a great job. It wasn't too cheesey and it was decorated so cute. Pink and Green everywhere.

I thought that with me having a little girl that there would be a lot of little outfits, hats and shoes that she would grow out of quickly but people were extremely practical. Diapers, onsies, wash cloths, etc. And Believe Me - I'm not complaining. Plus, this means I get to buy all the little outfits that she will grow right out of! : )

Enchanted

"I finally get it" said Heather as we glided out of Tim's Toyota Center still under the spell of Stevie Nicks. Over the 6 years that we've known eachother she's listened to me ramble about how she is my absolute favorite. Hell, I wanted to name this baby Rhiannon but that was quickly vetoed by my husband. I know many of the stories behind her songs and cried in my gray Stevi-like dress when I snuck into a Pharmacists convention to see her in San Diego when I was 19. I honestly don't think that anyone can completely grasp the presence that is Ms. Nicks until you see her in concert. The scarves, the shawls, the boots, the spinning it's intoxicating.

My sister was able to put a check next to one of her "to do" items on her life list after Friday night. She danced, she cried, she pissed off the lady in front of her by sloshing a little whiskey. When I say she cried I suppose that's an understatement. During landslide she had a mini-breakdown. I do blame Stevie though, while singing this song she had a slideshow of pictures of her and her father in the background. Poor Clara walked (ok stumbled) out with no mascara on her eyelashes but instead had it strategically wiped all over her eyelids and cheek bones. I sat dry-eyed but remembered dancing to Landslide with my dad at my wedding. I didn't cry all day but suddenly let out a sob as we danced. This was the song that I would listen to when I was in California and realized that I had been a stubbon, dramatic fool. I even taped it and sent it to my dad - whether or not he listened to it I'll never know but that was my way of saying "I screwed up, you were right".

Evelynn wasn't overly active during the concert but I did stand and hold my belly while I danced with her. I imagine this isn't the last time that we will rock to these songs.

Rhiannon was by far my favorite song that she performed. I had goosebumps and a lump in my throat. This was closely followed by Gold Dust Woman and Lanslide.

Call her a witch, call her dried up but I call her amazing. I call her music an escape to poetry and rhaspy throats from belting out lyrics and slamming my hand on the steering wheel. She is and always has been completely enchanting.

27 Candles

I feel like Molly Ringwald today where it seems like nothing right can happen on her birthday. I really hope it ends with a cake and Jake Ryan.

I woke up this morning on the verge of tears - probably left over from being quite butt hurt yesterday when my husband told me that he had scheduled band practice for tonight. He un-scheduled it but the damage is already done. I got to work to find out that a person that I used to be super close to who I got the job here and has been here less time than me was moving into her own office. I then got an email saying that the pay cuts would go into August. At lunch I came home to Buddy having shit on the carpet (I didn't get too mad because I asked Oakley to let him out this morning and I'm not sure if he did - it's not like the dog to do that and he hasn't since he was a puppy). The afternoon is picking up. The carrot cake from the company helped. A regular paycheck would have been better.

Brian is making me dinner tonight and we will all hang out and have a quiet evening together.

Clara and Brandy get here on Friday and this is more needed than I thought it would be. My bday party has turned into a full-fledged pity party. . . and if anyone can snap me out of that it's them.

So - bring on Stevie Nicks and the baby shower. Maybe that's my equivilant to Jake Ryan and a cake.

Transition Day

Any step-parent can recognize and dread the term transition day. This is the day that you get your stepson/daughter and the day that you send them back.

The day that you get them you spend the entire day insisting that all the rules are the same and do, in fact, still exist. This makes for a very awkward day because you are so excited to see them. In cases like mine where my stepson has zero rules at his mom's house this can make for an interesting day.

The worst is the transition day when you have to send them back to their other life. Yes, this is a fact of life for a stepmother, but it's certainly not easy. Never have I been relieved to see him go. Instead I dread what kind of week he will have. What nonsense will be put into his head, what kind of people he will be taken around, where he will be sleeping, etc.

The uneasiness of this day is multiplied by 20 when said mother changes her plans 4-5 times a day. There have been times that Oakley has been patiently waiting on the couch, with his coat on for his mother to come only to get a phone call after 30 minutes of waiting that it won't be until later that afternoon.

Today she was supposed to come and pick him up between 12 and 3. Very ambiguous if you ask me. Of course this was met with the behavior of Who's rules do I follow between now and then? How much can I get away with? What kind of punishment can I get if I'm leaving today anyways? Where exactly do I belong? Is it wrong to be excited to go to my mom's? Is it wrong to be a little sad to leave my dad's? Also, the dreaded "ask your stepmother a million times how much longer until my mom gets here". Which, even the most level-headed person gets a little butt hurt upon hearing. Today she called at 11:30 and talked to Oakley to find out what to pack for Camp Verde. She has been complaining a lot that it's too hard to let him go and that she cries because she misses him so much. Fine. Come get him first thing Sunday morning. Oh no! Instead she calls at 11:30 and says that she'll be here between 3 & 4 (change of plans #2). Then she calls and says that her car doesn't have air conditioning and that she was wondering if we would bring him into town so she doesn't "have to drive all the way to Dewey" (not like I don't do it every morning to take him to his "school".) Change of plans # 3. I was pissed - we don't have a/c in our cars either. Brian has been at work since 4 am. I told her that it was up to Brian and he AGREED to come home from working all day, pick up Oakley, turn back around and drive a half hour and then drive all the way back home.

I find it very hard to believe that a woman that truly misses her child would even take an air conditioner into consideration. My daughter isn't born yet but I would walk to the ends of the earth if I hadn't seen her for a week. She even has the audacity to tell Oakley that she cries while he's gone because she misses him so much. No child should have that kind of burden.

So - today was like many Sundays. A confused little boy not sure how to express his feelings and a pissed off stepmother - angry that she is the more qualified person for the job, but will never equal his mother. I've accepted this. Is it easy? Hell no.

Might have been the Iced Soy Mocha!

She cooperated! She had her feet up and she was playing with her toes. Perfect time to catch a peek. I really hope that her vagina is never on the internet again! But here she is in all of her glory! I'm so excited! Now if I could only win the lottery and begin shopping! (or if only I had a nickel for every freakin' exclamation point - my hell! Sorry! haha.)

I had to whore myself for diapers...

It seems like everyone has a story of falling on hard times while they were pregnant. "we were so young... your father had been laid off... your father had gotten his 2nd DUI (this one is a personal one from my childhood!)... Grandma died... the great depression began", etc.

But not me! I waited until I was married and had my own house, dog, cat and husband. I was "doing it the right way". That is until...

1. My work cut our pay by 20% - which has equalled over $400 a month.
2. My dog tore his claw and the vet bills cost $270 (so far).
3. The air conditioners went out on my car - and Brian's.
4. My state tax refund has yet to arrive
5. Work started doing layoffs - which so far I have avoided
6. Medical bills for prenatal care started rolling in.
7. HOA dues are due.
8. Just to begin and name a few.

I have to shake my head and chuckle a little. Or else I would cry. I waited until I was 27 to start a family. People do it at 16 and make it look easier. They have multiple children. I am petrified of affording one. My dad had two daughters without health insurance. My grandma had her first baby at 15. Surely we can get through this.

Perhaps this is just part of the pregnancy experience. It will give me a chance to gingerly remind my hellion teenager of all that I had to endure while pregnant with her. Of course then I will throw in the birth story (exaggerated of course because my labor will be fairly quick and painless - with absolutely no tearing).

Speaking of vaginas - fingers crossed that the baby flashes hers tomorrow! 80% just isn't good enough for me.