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[15 Aug 2009|10:41pm] |
will i ever feel competent again? cuz seriously, i feel like i am one giant parenting/friend/girlfriend fail, pretty much ever minute of every day. i'd like to not feel like that, thankyouveryfuckingmuch.
i wish my therapist would stop going on vacation. it's now been over a month since i've seen her. that would be a month of intermittently wanting to kill myself and having no access to her. yes. this is no bueno.
*sigh*
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Comments: where there's smoke there's fire.
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[12 Jul 2009|09:22pm] |
*sigh*
delia has been alive for nearly 2 weeks now, and we've been home for a week and 2 days as i write this.
all i have to say is this:
HOLY HELL THIS IS HARD.
so, in case you don't know, i have a 4 year old daughter from my marriage to The World's Biggest Idiot Who Is Also A Major Loser. she is amazing. she's intelligent, she's funny, she's alive, and she's very empathetic and very sweet. she's also high energy, high maintenance, highly impulsive, super independent, and loves to have all eyes on her. she's basically a lovable hell on wheels, and it's very easy to forget that she is only 4. thus, i might have higher expectations for her than i do other 4 year olds. i'm working on that. in the meantime, i had fooled myself into thinking we had well prepared the child for the arrival of someone smaller than her who would require quite a bit of care. we told her how boring it was to be a baby, we explained to her that things would be a little different but it didn't mean we didn't love her, we bought books, we took her to a class, and we basically stopped short of telling her the world would end once we brought the baby home. silly, naive me thought we would be without issue.
yes. i hear your laughter. i'll give you a moment to get yourself under control.
done?
okay.
let me just say that i am THISCLOSE to setting my face on fire. i had no idea my oldest daughter had such a talent for stretching monosyllabic words into words with ten, twelve, or even 20 syllables. it's amazing. i really think i could take her on america's got talent and exploit this talent for my financial gain (not really, i'd put the money in a mutual fund or something for her). and oh GAWD the tantrums. her tantrums have always been fairly epic. it's like being slammed in the face with a baseball bat OUT OF NOWHERE. every bone in her body turns to gelatin, and she crumbles to the floor, as though the words from your mouth were enough to knock her over. i can safely compare it to blowing on a house of cards and watching it collapse. as soon as she hits the floor she is rendered blind and deaf, but not mute. no, her voice seems to have sucked all the power from her eyes and ears, because suddenly she is capable of reaching notes in her vocal range rivaling mariah carey or leona lewis, except much, much louder. but the tantrums PD (post delia) have taken on a whole new level of epic. now? she inflicts them on herself! we don't even have to tell her "no" or "yes, but not right now" for the floor to swallow her whole, it now takes something as simple as not being able to find her shoes for her world to come to a screeching halt.
mia has been potty trained for just about a year now, and we've always had, shall we say, leakage problems. well, it's no longer a little leak, it's a gush. my oldest child is now wetting her pants again. i was warned this would happen, and stupidly thought that won't happen to me.
again, i'll wait for your laughter to subside.
our last major issue is the blatant disobedience. again, we've been dealing with that for a while. mia is VERY impulsive and VERY stubborn, so it's always taken a little more work to get her to listen and obey. but now, we don't even have moments of obedience. every moment is a chance for her to rebel, a chance to go her own way, a chance to make daddy yell and the tips of mommy's ears to turn bright red.
i'll admit, i'm out of my league on this. in my previous life, i was a half time step mommy to two little girls who were 2 and 4 when mia made her appearance. there were no issues. period. there might have been a few times where my oldest stepdaughter was a little sullen, or my youngest stepdaughter got mad at the baby, but i never had any major problems with them. this is foreign territory for me, and it's definitely uncharted for nathaniel, since this is his first time navigating the waters of infancy (he entered our lives when mia was about 18 months old). plus, we've never brought a new baby into mia's life, so even if he had been there from the start of mia's life, it wouldn't guarantee that he'd have a clue what to do here.
the c-section is another complicating matter, since i can't go upstairs, i can't lift anything over the baby's weight, i can't move as fast as normal, and i can't play as hard. the simplest brush across my incision has been biting my lip, and the one time mia kicked me in the stomach resulted in immediate tears for both of us. then there's my boobs. i'm a nursing mother, so my breasts hurt. constantly. i'll talk about that later, but the point is, if my breasts are touched just so, my initial reaction before i catch myself is to backhand the person who offended my H cup milk makers. mia is a repeat offender, and it's so hard to remain calm with her when she's not paying attention to the flailing of her limbs.
so.
i'm not without sympathy. i understand that this is a major transition in my daughter's short life, and it's very hard for her to express how she's feeling. but for god's sake, a little mercy might be nice. even when nathaniel and i do manage to spend one on one time with her, it's not good enough for her. it's not that she doesn't love delia, it's that she hates us for disrupting her life. did i mention she is rigid about her routine? you mess up her routine and you might as well have cut off her arms. it's a minefield, and we're doing our best not to detonate something that will blow up in our faces.
there are moments where i seriously contemplate hurling myself out the window, or selling my daughter to the gypsies, or perhaps just locking her in her room and letting her out until she's 18 or so. but then, mia begs to hold delia, or insists that delia has an opinion about this or that, or double checks to make sure that delia, is she ours? we're keeping her? she lives with us? and those moments make me realize that as difficult, as fucking hard as it has been the last week and 2 days to juggle an attention craving four year old and an infant who needs me 50 minutes out of every hour, it is worth it. my daughter finally has a sibling that lives with her, a sister she can bond with and share a life with. my girls, they will fill in the blanks of each others histories, they will antagonize each other, they will map out each others moves and either follow the other one's path or depart from the road already taken. they will share secrets and parental pet peeves, they will protect each other and throw the other to the wolves, they will both love and hate each other, and this is why we chose to have a baby. this is why we threw a wrench into mia's life, and someday? she will forget she was ever upset about the disruption.
either that, or she'll start begging us to send delia back.
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Comments: 1 fanned the flame - where there's smoke there's fire.
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| endgame--the birth story |
[10 Jul 2009|02:36pm] |
finally, a moment to sit down and write this! delia was born on july 1st, and she was the best birthday present i could have gotten.
since it was a planned c-section it's nothing real exciting. we got up and showered together for what will be the last time for quite a while (aw, sad!) at 4, packed everything up, and headed to the hospital. luckily the hospital is literally 5 minutes away from our house, so we didn't have far to go. in fact, you could see our backyard from our hospital room window!
they got me settled, hooked me up to the monitor to track the contractions i'd been having, did some blood work, and explained the way things were going to go. i had an briefing session from the nurse anesthetist, then they brought in nathaniel's scrubs and gave us some time alone. definitely a lot of fear and excitement both at this point. they wheeled me into labor and delivery's OR, and started prepping me. i cried. a lot. "this isn't how i wanted this to happen, this isn't how i wanted to have my baby!" i kept saying, sobbing into the nurse's scrubs while i got my spinal block.
i had a moment of panic when my surgeon said, "let's get this started," and nathaniel wasn't in the OR yet. i asked for him, and they got him in the room quickly. he sat with me while they got everything ready, and i will say, having a planned c-section wasn't nearly as bad as having an emergency c-section. i still wish i could have had a vbac but if your pelvic bones suck, your pelvic bones suck. when it came time for the actual surgery, he was watching (just as i knew he would). he got to watch our daughter come into the world, and for that i'm grateful since that's his last opportunity to do so. if he wants another kid he'll have to wait until i'm dead and buried, then he can go knock up some 18 year old hottie (or so goes the joke between us). i'm not going through another pregnancy, nor will i again go through the hell that is the 4 year old's adjustment period, but that's another blog for another time.
at her first beautiful yell announcing her presence in the outside world i immediately teared up. i wanted to see her SO BAD but couldn't, until they had her cleaned up a bit and nathaniel brought her to me. ohhhhhhh...with mia they held her up to show me, then whisked her out of the room to make sure she was okay (she was in distress when they finally convinced me to do the c-section, and for some reason i needed to be put in the ICU to recover), and i didn't see her for another hour or two. with delia i got to touch her and see her and feel her, and it was amazing. i wasn't apart from her for very long, as they wheeled me straight from the OR back to my birthing suite. granted, i didn't get to hold her for a little while as the spinal had to clear up a bit first, but i was in the room with her.
she was 8 pounds even, 20 1/2 inches long. her hair is brown with glittery red highlights, and her eyes are slate blue. she looks just like her father, so we each have our carbon copies now.
i'll write some more later about what life is like with an attention whore 4 year old and a baby that really, really likes my boobs. (i'm fairly certain at this for now, i wanted to post the conclusion to our nine month science experiment. thanks to everyone who listened and supported the last nine or ten months. stay tuned...adventures in parenting the world's most attention seeking 4 year old and her royal highness of sleepiness who loves her sleep is coming up next.
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Comments: where there's smoke there's fire.
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| birth announcement |
[01 Jul 2009|08:20pm] |
delia kate martin made her way into the world at 8:18 this morning, at 20.5 inches long and 8 pounds on the dot. she's a champion nurser and an incredibly good baby. big sister mia is in love. delia has daddy wrapped around her finger. and mommy? i feel like i could fly to the moon.
pictures to follow.
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Comments: 6 fanned the flames - where there's smoke there's fire.
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| down to the wire--38w5d |
[30 Jun 2009|02:32pm] |
well.
24 hours from writing this, i will no longer be pregnant. the parasite that has taken up residence in my womb for the last 38 weeks will be an official member of the human race, and i will no longer have to share my abdomen with a creature that loves nothing more than to jam her feet under my rib cage while i am driving.
i must admit, i'm not sad about pregnancy ending. at all.
some women love being pregnant. in fact, a lot of strange women see me waddling their way in the store, and they usually tell me to "enjoy having this baby inside you, they're a lot of work once they're out!" which always puzzles me. why assume that i am a first time mom? why assume that i like being pregnant? why assume that i don't already understand that a living, breathing human being is a lot of work and a huge responsibility? seriously. word to the wise: shut up. just shut up. if you see a 9 months pregnant woman coming towards you, the only words out of your mouth should be, "is there anything i can help you with?", and nothing regarding their appearance
anyway. my point.
some women love being pregnant and are actually pretty damn good at it. after 2 full pregnancies in my 27 years, i have learned that i? am not one of them. i suck at pregnancy, much like some women suck at relationships, remembering to take their birth control, or driving. my body doesn't mind getting pregnant, but it will fight staying pregnant. if it doesn't fight staying pregnant, then it spends 9 months reminding me why i shouldn't be pregnant, usually with some physical affliction, like debilitating leg cramps, or kidney pain because i can't pee, or 2 1/2 weeks of frustrating false labor. i am more than happy to announce that i will never fall victim to the temporary insanity that causes me to decide that hey, having a baby? IT'S AN AWESOME IDEA!
i can definitely say that there were aspects of this pregnancy that made it better than my pregnancy with mia. having a supportive partner made all the difference. he didn't make me feel guilty for anything, he looked out for my best interests even when he was tired and overloaded, and there hasn't been a time during this whole pregnancy where he has thought i was disgusting, much like my ex husband said he did. nathaniel has found me sexy and desirable this entire time. i can't tell you how much of a difference it makes to have someone who thinks i'm beautiful and doesn't mind the weight gain and is still turned on by me, even at "ready to pop any damn second".
it also helps that i am in a better place in life than i was when i was pregnant with mia. i'm not talking about my state of mind, because god knows i struggled. i mean i'm a different person. i am more self assured, i have a better idea of what i want, i'm more confident, and i can rely on myself more than i could when mia was cooking.
but despite the positive differences, i am not sad to see this pregnancy go. in fact, i am quite glad it will be over in 18 hours or so. granted, i will have a new set of challenges, including healing from a surgery i don't actually want, juggling a newborn, a 4 year old, a significant other, a social life, and eventually, my job, as well as navigating the minefield that is the post partum period. but honestly, i think we'll be just fine. if the last 3 years have taught me anything, it's that nathaniel and i can handle what's tossed at us. oh, he may handle it better than i do, and it may take his example for me to steady myself, but as a team, we've got this. we totally do.
i really do believe i am in early labor as we speak, and i am getting quite excited to meet this new little person. i'm excited to watch mia grow into the big sister i know she wants to be, and i can't wait to watch nathaniel blossom into an even more incredible father than he already is. i firmly believe that the love he'll have for this baby will help him love mia that much more. i already feel my heart growing to encompass both my girls, and the love i have for mia has already begun to intensify. i am also excited to watch myself continue to grow into the woman i want to be, the woman i know i can become.
to the future.
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Comments: 1 fanned the flame - where there's smoke there's fire.
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| the final countdown--37w5d |
[23 Jun 2009|07:41pm] |
i am in hell.
it's not that i am that uncomfortable because i'm pregnant. really, i'm not having much discomfort. the debilitating leg cramps are gone, i rarely have sciatic nerve pain, and while my lower back hurts much of the time, it quickly fades into the background, a nagging pain that is easily dealt with by distraction, tylenol, and lots of position changes. in fact, i've almost enjoyed these last few weeks. i feel better physically than i have this whole pregnancy. i have very few fears as to the health of this baby, unlike the first trimester when all i did was worry about miscarriage, and the second when i was so physically miserable it was hard to be happy about being pregnant. aside from that, it's finally hitting home. i'm going to have a baby! with a wonderful man! who isn't going to fail me! since i can see the finish line, it's a little easier to get excited about it. also, mia's behavior towards the baby is quite endearing. we have videos of her telling the baby a story before bed, and she frequently hugs and kisses my stomach. she tells me she wants her delia sister to come out now, and professes her love of her unborn sister on a daily basis. it's exciting to watch my daughter's transition from "baby" to "big sister", and i'm both eager and terrified to see how it continues to play out after delia arrives.
no, it's not the third trimester woes that have me down. they are more and less a moot point. it's the prodromal labor. "prodromal labor" is a fancy term for "false labor", except there's nothing false about what i've been feeling. a woman's body spends a lot of time preparing for labor, and in my case, it spends a lot of time psyching me out. signs of early labor include:
--braxton-hicks contractions (which i've been having for MONTHS now)
--nesting (a burst of energy that usually results in setting things up for the baby, cleaning like the devil is going to steal your soul if your house isn't picture perfect, and lots of reorganizing things you've already reorganized for the sake of reorganization. this was done almost 2 weeks ago.)
--changes in the cervix (it effaces and dilates as you near labor; my cervix is 70% effaced which is the more accurate predictor of the onset of labor. see, you can walk around dilated to 4 centimeters for weeks and have nothing happen but the second you're 100% effaced, your body is probably going to kick into labor....any moment.)
--"lightening", which is where the baby drops into the pelvis, getting ready to make their entry into the world (and my baby dropped about a month ago, and was "engaged" or HOLY COW THE KID IS RIGHTTHERE last thursday). this is accompanied by a feeling of FINALLY being able to breathe again, a face eating hunger that makes you dream of consuming entire barnyard animals, and the complete inability to make your maternity pants fit like they did last week.
--loss of the mucus plug (yeah, there's a glob of stuff hanging out in your cervix to prevent Bad Stuff from entering your uterus, and i lost my plug about 2 weeks ago)
--bloody show (discharge that is tinted pink or brown, which signals that your cervix is changing and has broken some of the capillaries around it, i've had small smears for the last week)
and as i've mentioned, i have every. single. one of them.
you'd think this would mean OHMYGOD I'M HAVING A BABY SOON. you'd be wrong. see, aside from this you have all these other things that signal your body is getting ready for labor, things like
--nausea
--diarrhea
--mood and energy level changes
--changes in your vaginal discharge
--leaky breasts
and i can honestly say that every last one of those has been around for the last month. so my body has spent the last month preparing for a labor it doesn't want. what makes me say that?
AT MY LAST CHECK MY CERVIX WAS STARTING TO CLOSE BACK UP AND THE BABY HAD STARTED FLOATING AGAIN.
this means nothing to you, except you have to wait a little bit longer to hear the announcement that i've had a baby! a real! live! baby! what this means for me is lots of tears and frustration because my body just won't do what it's telling me it wants to do. this means that i sit around timing my contractions on a daily basis, because on a daily basis they get regular. and everyday, i wait just a little bit longer than i did the previous day before i say something because i don't want to jinx it. and everyday, after i've waited 20 minutes longer than i did the previous day, and i've had regular contractions for as long as 4 flipping hours, i say something to someone....and the contractions stop. i have all the other labor discomforts, such as persistent lower back ache, pressure in the pelvic floor, and pain in the groin area, but nothing "real". nothing that says HEY WOMAN, GET YOUR ASS TO THE HOSPITAL, YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE A BABY.
honestly?
I'M GOING TO LOSE MY MIND.
our house is totally ready for this little girl to arrive. while there are times i wonder if we're mentally prepared, we are, at the very least, physically prepared. my body has spent the last month changing to accomodate the epic event that is labor. and despite these changes, it won't just do what it's supposed to do, and it's breaking me down. there is nothing i hate more than half assed jobs, and to me, that's exactly what my body is doing. it's half assing its job. yes, i understand that i'm not even officially "due" yet, and i understand that having a baby is a long process, hence the 9 months i have spent bitching and moaning about every single ailment that has come my way. but this is exhausting, in every form of the word. labor educators, countless websites, and your own care provider tell you to be on the lookout for all these signals that you body is saying "okay, let's go!", and here i am, seeing these signs and getting excited for this life changing event...only for everything to come to a screeching halt. and this has been going on for nearly 2 weeks. so excuse me if i seem a little melodramatic, but you show me a woman who puts up with 2 weeks of prodromal labor ON TOP OF hearing that your body is actually regressing, and this woman, she is peachy keen pleased with it, and i will show you a damn robot.
and for future reference? ignore instinct. instinct told me a week and a half ago that i was going to have this baby in a week and a half. i am still very much pregnant, and that doesn't look to be changing anytime soon.
oh yeah. quick list of things *not* to say to a 9 months pregnant woman.
--don't call me/text me/e-mail me daily to ask me if i've had the baby yet. i might punch you in the face. you will hear if i have the baby. if you're that important to me, i'll call you. if you're not that important (and there are only, like, 5 of you who are), you'll see the facebook status update because seriously, i'm not calling 50 million people when i should be introducing myself to this new human being.
--do not tell me i look huge. i will kick you in the balls or the clitoris, depending on your anatomy. i happen to know for a fact that i am not that large, all things considering.
--mentioning that i look like i'm carrying a 12 pound baby will black list you. for life.
--don't ask me how much weight i've gained, and then google your eyes when i tell you we're up nearly 40 pounds. better yet, just don't ask. someday when i'm not a raging ball of emotion i'll volunteer the information and we can chuckle over what a fatty i was. until then, zip it.
--don't give me tips on putting myself in labor. it's false hope because none of them work. don't you think i've already tried? i can't DO anymore nipple twiddling, for crying out loud.
--don't tell me that i should be patient. that's not encouraging. that's not helpful. it irritates me, because seriously, have you done exactly what i'm doing? have you been in my body? are you experiencing exactly what i'm experiencing? no? then hush.
i'm going to go bounce on a birth ball now.
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Comments: 1 fanned the flame - where there's smoke there's fire.
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| all in your head--31w2d |
[09 May 2009|11:20am] |
until you've been pregnant, you cannot imagine the swirling eddy of emotions and fears that will trample over your head and your heart, until you're on your knees begging for some relief.
or maybe that's just me.
being bipolar and pregnant presents challenges that aren't in many other pregnancies. let's start with the fact that i had to see a shrink for nearly a year before we found a balance of medication that was pregnancy safe but would still work to keep me sane. that road was rough and roller coaster-like, a trial and error with serious consequences. such as, when my doctor put me on an anti-depressant and i stopped sleeping. such as, when she started me on a drug that works for many people, but made me so sleepy i drove into a tree after a full night's sleep (i won, by the way). such as, the depression that popped up when she started me on a common bipolar drug, because it made me gain 10 pounds in short period of time and made my skin explode with acne i hadn't seen before and made me feel flat and useless. or the withdrawl symptoms i had coming off of my old, not even remotely safe for pregnancy drug that had done so well at holding me together.
like i said, rough road. not just for me, i know it was hard for nathaniel to watch what was happening to his girlfriend, and there were times i'm sure mia suffered also. it's confusing for a child when your mother is a hot mess of crazy, which is why (listen closely) MOTHERS SHOULD TAKE CARE OF THEMSELVES. don't even try and argue with me on that one, because you'll lose, i promise.
anyway.
then there's my predisposition to being very very up or very very down. hormones are unpredictable, and my medications are sensitive to hormone changes. that means that at anytime, my meds could stop working and i might not even realize it. i need a DANGER! sign that flashes above my head so that if i don't realize that i'm starting to lose my battle with rationality, i have a visual that will alert me to that fact.
bipolar disorder is a stress affected illness. stress affects me differently than it affects the majority of the population, and usually in a more severe fashion. little things that might temporarily setback john will send me into a tailspin. major things...well, we won't go into that. too much stress or poorly managed stress can cause depression or even cause a manic episode. but pregnancy further complicates my sensitivity to stress, so it's a double whammy. it's not as simple as avoiding stress, because to some extent everything stresses me out. when i was injured, and then put on bedrest, being a burden on nathaniel was a stress to me. when i went back to work, even though i was glad to get off the couch, that was a stress to me. when mia's misbehaving, that's a stress to me. when there's a ton of laundry that needs to be done, that's a stress. it's all about breaking down large tasks and making them small, but that isn't always easy because i have part of my mind whispering that it's totally futile, go ahead and give up. so i can give up, thus causing me stress because i'm not pulling my weight, or i can persist, and casue myself stress because i know it wouldn't be this bad if i wasn't pregnant, dammit, what was i thinking?
when i was pregnant with mia i was undiagnosed super crazy, and had a mental breakdown around 5 months. that breakdown was the catalyst for the destruction of my marriage. yes, i acknowledge that we would have divorced sooner or later because i was not fully mature when i married my ex and was not fully aware of my self and what i wanted from my life so we were a horrible match. also, he's a piece of shit and sooner or later i would have grown tired of it because i have this thing against putting up with shit. but i do feel that my breakdown helped feed the fires of demise, and for that i am grateful.
this time around, i knew it was going to take some work, so i did the smart thing: i talked to my doctor. really quickly, i want to say something to ANYONE who struggles with ANY form of depression, anxiety, addiction, etc.
IF YOU ARE PREGNANT OR PLANNING TO BECOME PREGNANT, PLEASE TALK TO YOUR DOCTOR.
i don't care if it's mild depression, or if the anxiety is just during Super Stressful Situations. pregnancy fucks with your head. you have hormones racing through your body that you've never experienced before, and they will make you go batshit. the issue is, prenatal depression is a wide spread problem that no one really talks about. all the focus is on postpartum which, okay yeah, it's serious. but so is prenatal depression. babies born to mothers who have gone untreated for any form of mental illness are subject to the following:
--failure to thrive
--low birth weight
--sleep disruptions
--preterm labor
--abnormal growth
--learning disorders
--elevated cortisol levels (basically: your baby is more sensitive to stress)
scary, huh? even scarier: there are conflicting studies relating to women and anti-depressant use during pregnancy. some studies show no significant damage to the fetus, or an absence of life changing problems, other point out that some defects (such as heart murmurs, breathing problems, and seizures) are possibly related to mothers who take anti-depressants while pregnant.
so. here it is: if you have struggled with depression in the past, talk to your doctor. you and your partner and your doctor need to be watching for signs of a recurrence of depression, because there is so much more at stake when you're pregnant and depressed. there's a whole other life that will be directly affected by the choices you make, by your emotions, by your biochemical reactions to the situations around you for 9 entire months. there are therapists you can talk to who specialize in pregnancy disorders. there are lifestyle changes you can make to ensure that you don't flip shit while gestating. or maybe you'd rather take a pre-emptive strike like i did, and get on a medication regimen that is the safest course of action for both you and your baby. but please, don't ignore depression in pregnancy. ever.
public service announcements aside, i'd like to talk about the things that have gone through my head since i've been pregnant. i apologize, because this is about to get long. i considered breaking this up into 2 parts because i know that people have lives and better things to do, but then i remembered that my motivation level is right up there with my desire to move to california, visit las vegas, or join a church, so i figured i should get it done and over with now.
when we first found out we were pregnant, i was jubilant. this was almost a year in the planning! it seemed like everyone was getting pregnant but me, and i WANTED to be pregnant SO BADLY. it's not that i had forgotten how awful pregnancy was (though i had, to some extent), but that i wanted a child with nathaniel, and the timing was (is) perfect. i wanted to be done having kids before i was 30 (i'm 26), male fertility problems begin at 35 (nathaniel is 32), mia isn't too young to understand what's going on, but not so old that she would be uninterested in her sibiling, and we were (are) happy. we know we make a great pair and we know that we will always be together. i know some people question why we didn't get married since we had decided to have a baby, especially when we knew were committed to each other, and the answer is both simple and complicated. we didn't get married because we didn't see that getting married just so we could have a baby was a valid reason for matrimony. we didn't get married even though we acknowledged our commitment to each other due to extenuating circumstances involving finances. call me selfish, but i have a lot of past debts i'd like to get paid off before i join legally with someone else. those past debts are a lot easier to pay off when i'm not married because of a beautiful thing called a tax return, and once we get married i probably won't get one because, well, i hooked up with a rich guy. even though in oregon you aren't responsible for your spouse's debts before you were legally joined, i didn't want to marry him and have to rely on his money to pay off my mistakes/old illnesses. we feel that our marriage will have a better start if there is a clean slate involved, and see no reason to rush to the alter for validation. we know why we're together and we know how we feel, and we know how stable and happy we are.
well, then i remembered that i'm pregnant and thus totally irrational. and even though all of those things make perfect sense to me, i struggle with the fact that i am having a child out of wedlock. we'll chalk it up to my religious nazi upbringing (the horror stories i could tell you of the church i grew up in!), or the opinions that have been voiced since we announced that we were expecting, but i find myself desperately wishing we were AT LEAST engaged. it doesn't help that nathaniel, that asshole, actually told me he thought about proposing to me when we were on our cruise back in september, but decided not to because "it was too cliche".
i could have killed him.
so knowing he was going to ask and decided not to makes me wonder: well, why not now?
why not now, nathaniel? why not make things a little easier on me by proposing? maybe if i had a ring, even an engagement ring, on my finger i would get fewer snotty comments about my marital status and what is going on with my body. yes, the comments i have received have bothered me. they would bother you too!
well, asking the question "why not now" brings up all sorts of ugly fears that at this moment i can't believe i've entertained, but will seem perfectly logical once my hormones rush through my system again.
--i'm just a means to an end, and he's going to kick me out of his life once i have his baby, since if he hadn't found me when he did, he would have wound up adopting a child on his own
--he's waiting to see if keep all the pregnancy weight i've gained, because he doesn't want to marry a fat chick
--he's waiting to see if mia can behave herself after the baby is born, because no one wants a raving brat of a stepchild, particularly if it's going to affect your own flesh and blood
--he's waiting to see if i'm still effing crazy after this kid comes out, since let's face it, this pregnancy hasn't been easy on any of us
--he's waiting to see if he even likes being a biological parent, because if he doesn't then we're outta here, and i'm a single parent with 2 children on a job that's making me about $14,000 a year.
now i have to write this, because it amuses me greatly. while i was pounding out my crazy reasons, nathaniel sat down next to me and began reading over my shoulder. his comment: "or i just don't want to propose while you're pregnant because then it seems like a shot gun type of thing."
i won't even begin to get into what is wrong with that statement. but i will say this: if i could beat the hell out of him for that, i would. he never cares what people think...except when it comes to formally inviting me to spend the rest of my life with him. *facepalm*
so anyway, i was happy and whatnot (over the moon, actually!) and then pregnancy misery set in. morning sickness, breast tenderness, constipation, growing out of my clothes by week 4, and feeling like i was going to die of fatigue. i don't know if you're aware of this, but eventually these things wear on you, and as happy as you were when you found out your pee was magic, if you're absolutely miserable you will eventually start to wish it was already over.
so aside from the misery and my own personal fears regarding the stability of my relationship, there are all the other typical new mom fears.
--we're ruining our family
--things are great, why are we messing with a great thing?
--mia's behavior is starting to improve and having a baby is going to make it worse
--i won't love this child as much as i love mia because i could never love another human being as much as i love mia
--we're going to make horrible 2 children parents
--we're going to lose each other
--i can't juggle a job and 2 kids, especially since my work environment is not currently conducive to my mental health
--people are going to love our child less because she's a bastard (yes mom, your squeals of protest after referring to your newest grandchild as a bastard have been noted.)
--nathaniel's family is going to forget about mia because she isn't biologically theirs, and delia is
--people will forget about mia because she's not a baby
--i'm crazy
--he's emotionless
--what if this child is a handful like mia? what the #@*& am i gonna do then?
--what if i love this child more than i love mia?
--what if i don't love this child at all because this pregnancy has been absolutely miserable for me, and all i feel once i see her is anger and resentment because FOR GOD'S SAKE I GAVE UP MY SANITY AND MY FIGURE TO HAVE YOU, AND YOU'RE NOT GOING TO SLEEP FOR MORE THAN 2 HOURS AT A STRETCH?!?!
--post partum depression. nuff said.
--the earth is melting, people are assholes, and the internet ruins lives, but i'm bringing a child into the world anyway?
and so it goes.
then there are the insecurities that come from being super crazy.
--what if my meds are out of whack, and i can't get sane again?
--what if my chemistry is forever altered and i lose my ability to be a decent parent?
--what if i've passed my illness on to one of my kids?
--what if i eventually get so sick that i kill myself, how will that affect my children?
and then there's the depression.
i won't lie. suicide has crossed my mind in these last 7 months, more than once. have i entertained the notion? no. hell no. i would have done something about it had it gotten that bad. but oh, have i wished for an easy way out of the hell that is feeling like things are so bad, the only way out is death. if the thought of dying by your own hand as an escape from the life you are living has never crossed your mind, then i say to you: awesome. i hope you never feel what i and millions of other have felt time and time again over the course of our lives.
it's not that my circumstances have been so horrible, it's more that i've been so completely overwhelmed by all that i'm feeling and all that is out of my control that i just don't see how it can end happily. how can i be a decent mother when i hate going to work so much that i come home and have nothing left for my family? but i can't get a new job because there are no new jobs, so i'm trapped. god, i wish i was dead, that would fix it, and then my girls could have a mom who could handle working at a job that sometimes sucks for a boss she can't stand and can't respect. or, good lord, i'll never be the woman that nathaniel deserves, i should just bow out gracefully now and give him a fair chance at finding someone who will fit him better, but i'll never be the mother my children deserve so i should get out of their lives so they can have the best possible parents, because god knows i'm impatient and i yell too often and they deserve better. or, i am so overwhelmed by everything and everyone and i can't handle this, and i don't know what to do.
and then i've felt the bone crushing guilt of the ingrate. how dare i be depressed. how dare i! i have a wonderful man who takes care of me, emotionally, physically, and financially, who happens to be madly in love with me, as i am him. i have a beautiful, brilliant daughter who adores me to pieces who lights up my life like none other. i have a job with plenty of job security, i have excellent health insurance so i don't have to suffer, i have a car without financial obligation, i live in a beautiful house that is paid for filled with modern conveniences many people don't have. i have family that love me and friends that accept me, and people who bend over backwards to be there for me when i need them. why the fuck am i depressed? so that only feeds into my depression, because i don't feel like i have the right to be depressed, even though depression is an equal opportunity disorder and doesn't care how great or how horrible your life is, it will get you if it wants to.
it's hard not to feel vulnerable when you're pregnant, especially when you're exposing yourself to people you may not be totally safe in front of. i get lots of comments, e-mails, texts, and phone calls about my blogs, and i know it's entirely possible that there are people who read these who don't comment, e-mail, text, and call. i want anyone who reads this to know that i don't want your sympathy, i don't want you reassurances, and i sure as hell don't need the name of your counselor/doctor/priest because i have a pretty good team i'm working with and despite my admissions, i'm doing okay. if you're going to comment specifically on this, i don't want you to make it about me. make it about you. has reading this brought something up in your mind you hadn't though about before? has it made you realize that you weren't alone? does it make you angry that i'm opening myself up like this when you think i should be dealing with my issues privately? have you learned something? tell me, because if you've gotten this far then you must have some thoughts going through your head. the only thing i ask is that you be respectful, please.
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Comments: 1 fanned the flame - where there's smoke there's fire.
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| no thanks, i am not having a good time--30w3d |
[03 May 2009|09:20pm] |
i am officially in my third trimester, which doesn't mean anything except that i'm about to get freaking huge and a whole lot more uncomfortable. to those of you who have never have children i say to you: yes, the third trimester is just as awful as everyone says.
right now i am experiencing a whole slew of pregnancy woes, more so than i ever experienced with mia. i can't sleep because i can't get comfortable because my legs cramp or my hands fall asleep or delia's decided that she's going to beat the hell out of whatever side i'm sleeping on (one of my friends scoffed when i mentioned that delia was very good at making her desires known, stating that a fetus doesn't have a personality. i beg to differ.) and i can't sleep on my back because the weight of my uterus makes my back hurt, my nose is stuffy (yes, that is a common side effect of pregnancy), my mind is racing because OH MY GOD, I'M HAVING ANOTHER CHILD WHAT THE HELL WAS I THINKING?, my bladder is full, and my leg cramps wake me out of a dead sleep. when i'm at work i'm miserable because my lower back hurts, my sciatic nerve is pinched on a position that essentially paralyzes me, except people who are paralyzed from the legs down are lucky because they aren't suffering from The Leg Cramps From Hell. on top of that, i'm starving...yeah, pretty much every second of every day and? i have to pee. often. it doesn't help either that the baby is, according to my midwife, RIGHT THERE, so there's a lot of pressure, ahem, in the basement. in fact, sometimes it feels like i'm walking with a personal watermelon shoved between my legs. because of this, i've adapted what is known as the pregnancy waddle. coupled with how low the baby is, i get a lot of these:
"oh, due any day, eh?"
"wow, you look uncomfortable."
"that baby not out yet?"
"how much longer?" "about 2 months." "oh wow, looks like you're farther along than that!"
all of which bring violent fantasies to mind, usually involving my toes square in the other person's shin or other lower extremities. if not violent fantasies, then snarky responses sit poised on the tip of my tongue, but are sadly wasted because i value my health insurance.
i will say this to those who read this: if you open your mouth to talk to a pregnant woman, and your comment is related to her size, the only words you should be prepared to speak are as follows. say it with me now! "YOU LOOK FANTASTIC!" i don't give a shit if the gestating woman in question is wearing no makeup, clothes that are frumpy, wrinkled, ill fitting, or stained, has bags so deep under her eyes they could be mistaken for crop circles, and hasn't shaved her legs in weeks. the fact that she has dragged her ass out of bed AND SHE IS WEARING SHOES should be enough for you, and she should be praised accordingly.
pregnancy woes being experienced as of late include but are not limited to: swelling of the feet when upright for more than 5 minutes, profuse sweating in 50 degree weather, shortness of breath everytime a limb is moved, extreme fatigue at 9 AM, narcolepsy, heartburn from drinking water, the sensation that my stomach will be splitting open when delia decides to roll, constant braxton hicks contractions (which are "warm up" contractions that can sometimes rival the real thing), my nose bleeds every time i sneeze, and then there's the bladder issues. hoo, boy. incontinence, frequent urination, feeling like i have to go but not being able to, and the clincher--urinary tract infections. i have one, despite my love of 100% cranberry-raspberry juice, the 80 ounces of water i drink, and my knack for wiping front to back. the theory is the baby is preventing me from emptying my bladder so bacteria builds up in there. what that means for me is, my kidneys freaking hurt. constantly.
10 weeks to go. i know i'll survive, but it's hell in the meantime. i'll go into the mental repercussions of pregnancy another time, because i promised to be honest in these entries, and that means full disclosure. i apologize for those that feel i am too negative, but i'd like to remind the general public that pregnancy is not a walk in the park for some of us. for some of us it's a living hell, a burden, something we get into and wish we hadn't. yeah, i've helped create a life, and that is amazing to me. but the fact that my unborn child is currently growing inside of me doesn't make this experience enjoyable. it doesn't change the misery and the inconvenience this has brought me and my family, and my only hope is that they will forgive me for this brief interruption on our lives.
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Comments: 3 fanned the flames - where there's smoke there's fire.
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| time bomb |
[27 Apr 2009|02:04pm] |
this is me.
this is me pregnant.
this is me, pregnant, with a possible UTI, braxton hicks that are frequent and at times regular, not worried about it because, um, hi? they have shots that can stop labor as long as your water hasn't broken, and shots they can give me to strengthen baby's lungs so if labor does become unstoppable, she has a better chance of surviving. worrying? TOTALLY not going to change ANYTHING, amirite?
enter my mother, who likes to have a cow about EVERYTHING. this means that every single negative thing that happens, from throwing up to an ingrown toenail, becomes a frantic text message about how horrible her life is and she just wants to run away because OMG she's sick of health crisis. this is acceptable (annoying as hell, but acceptable) from a teenager. this is barely acceptable from an early 20-something.
THIS IS NOT ACCEPTABLE AT ALL FROM ANYONE OVER THE AGE OF 25. AND EVEN THEN, YOU'RE PUSHING THE ENVELOPE.
in case you don't know, my mom was in a head on collision with a semi truck damn near 3 years ago. traumatic, yes, especially when you considering even the semi was totaled and it was the fault of a 17 year old punk ass who didn't seem to give a shit that he'd severely mangled one human being, and sent another on disability for 6 months. anyway, my mom was life flighted to OHSU, traffic was backed up on 99W in both directions for HOURS, blah blah blah. it was bad. however, it's been NEARLY THREE YEARS. at this point, doncha think it's kinda time to move on? maybe? perhaps? nope, not my mother! she texted me a few weeks ago because OMG LIFEFLIGHT LANDED IN THE FIELD BEHIND HER APARTMENTS! SHE'S HAVING A MILD PANIC ATTACK BUT SHE'S OKAY, JUST GOTTA SMOKE TO STAY CALM!
then there was the time last year she called me at work, crying hysterically, because there was a car accident in the same general area as her car accident was in. literally, i could barely understand her because she was crying so hard.
then there was the time she saw a chevy alero (what she was driving that day) and a pride disposal semi truck (what she hit) in the same day. oh dear god, someone break out the valium!
look, i get it. a lot of shitty things happen, i understand that. but freaking out over every single thing that happens ISN'T DOING ANYONE ANY GOOD.
anyway, back to present day (and my point).
friday morning i started having some bad ass braxton hicks contractions. they were frequent but irregular, so i went along my way. no big. by friday evening they were 2-3 minutes apart. since i'm only 29 weeks along, this is especially no bueno. i call my midwife's answering service, she tells me to lie down and drink lots of fluid. i chill out saturday and sunday, more or less tethered to the couch because regular contractions aren't really my thing at the moment, and call her sunday evening because the contractions never stop completely. i want to make sure that she doesn't think i need to be monitored, and she doesn't. midwife asks me to come in monday morning to get checked out.
now maybe this is my fault, but before i called my midwife last night i called my mom to see where she was at. i wanted to be prepared in case she said, "hey, come on down! you're my next contestant in the labor and delivery department!" (you know, we'd need someone to watch mia if i needed to go in)
"mom, where ya at?"
"at the hospital, why?"
"no reason, just wondering because i'm going to call nan--"
"ava, what's wrong."
"nothing, i--"
"AVA, WHAT IS WRONG."
seriously?
"noth--"
"AVA JUST TELL ME."
i roll my eyes and get firm.
"NOTHING is wrong, just stop freaking out for a second and listen."
she protests, but listens while i explain that nothing has changed, i'm just going to call nan to see what she has to say, if she thinks i should go in tonight to be monitored or wait until the morning, and if she said tonight i wanted mom to come over and stay with mia. that's all. but she was at a different hospital with my grandmother, so i told her it wasn't a big deal and we would figure something out.
now to today.
i see my midwife, who does a test and gives me an antibiotic for a possible UTI. apparently they can cause some serious issues during pregnancy? did not know that. anyway, she takes me off work until the test results come back, which will be tomorrow. i text my mom to let her know, and she gets apologetic for barking at me last night.
( the texts, verbatim )
so, what to do, what to do. do i thank her for keeping her drama to herself, because i don't need it? it's bad enough i have nervous nelly on my hands with nathaniel, but to have to deal with my mother and her insisting that this is a huge deal and i'm wrong for not worrying about it and that this all needs to be panicked about is more than i need. i have a kid who has behavioral issues because we took her on vacation and messed her up for life, an ex husband who lets my four year PLAY OUTSIDE BY HERSELF WITHOUT SUPERVISION IN AN UNFENCED BACKYARD a quarter of a mile from a busy rural highway and an eighth of a mile from a busy winery that has lots of traffic, and authorities who don't seem to care that she's routinely allowed out by herself. like literally, mia said she was going to play outside, steve let her, she wandered off, when he checked on her 5-6 minutes later she was gone. FIVE TO SIX MINUTES. why is a child that young allowed outside by herself for that long when she sucks at boundaries? so he had to run to get her, and by that time she was up by the winery. yeah. apparently that's totally acceptable parenting in yamhill county.
grrr.
anyway.
so i have that i'm trying to handle, as well as concerns about the baby (did i mention she's super low?) and i have to put up with my mother's shit on top of that?
sometimes, i have half a mind to tell her to stop with the excuses, she could make the time for therapy if she really wanted but she chooses not to, and that i don't want to deal with her until she gets into therapy because all her stupid issues from her car accident (and also her "poor pity me, i have RA" attitude) are making it really freaking hard to have a healthy relationship with her. i really, honestly do. or or or, why don't i stop asking her to come hang out or watch mia so she has time to get therapy because that's important and she'll have all the time in the world to play with mia. something to get her jolted out of her self-absorbed alternate reality where it's totally okay to whine and bitch and moan to everyone around her that she hurts and her life is hard and the RA makes it difficult to do this, and she hates morphine and oh noez another surgery around the bend, she's so scared she's having panic attacks, etc.
FUCKING DEAL WITH IT LIKE A GROWN UP ALREADY.
it's one thing to express an emotion. it's one thing to vent. it's another to allow an event or an illness to take over your whole life. like, i have issues and i am fully aware of it, but i don't bring up twice a day that i have bipolar and oh, pity me my life is so hard. i feel huge and fat right now and there are times i want to cut because i can't think of anything else to make me feel better, but you don't hear me whining and bitching to all my closest friends, do you? no, because it isn't their fucking problem. it's mine.
seriously, how was i born to this woman?
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Comments: 1 fanned the flame - where there's smoke there's fire.
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[25 Apr 2009|09:07pm] |
non stop braxton hicks since thursday night makes me cranky, especially since they get more intense, more frequent, and more regular the longer i'm up and the more i do.
just sayin'.
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Comments: 1 fanned the flame - where there's smoke there's fire.
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[16 Apr 2009|09:14pm] |
before i post about our trip to hawaii, i just want to run some commentary on flying in an airplane with lots of perfect strangers.
flying sucks. i don't know of a single person in the world who enjoys flying. some people don't mind it, some people are scared shitless, kids think it's awesome for the first hour or so, but most people i know don't go "WHOO-HOO! we get to sit in a cramped space with shitty food and a bathroom so small you can't even turn around in it!" unless they're presented with a choice: fly, or have your hand hit repeatedly with a hammer. in that case yes, i can see how flying would be a reward. however, just because flying sucks does not mean you need to make the experience suck for everyone around you. considering you are in close quarters with a number of strangers for longer than you are normally forced to spend with people you don't know from adam, there are some common considerations i think people need to start taking. here are my tips for flying:
obnoxious early 20-somethings: yes, i get that you document your every bowel movement for the rest of your fellow narcissists. goody for you. however, taking 20 pictures of yourself in the same location, in the same seat, with the same people, and that same stupid pouty face that lets the world know you think you're hot shit every hour on the house is enough to make a good portion of the people around want to shove that camera up your piss hole. you know those toddlers you're bitching about because you probably, at this point in time, hate kids and the people who force the rest of the world to come in contact with the youngsters they've squeezed out? yeah, every time the flash goes off, you wake up one of those little demons, thus disturbing the peace for you and everyone around you. so instead of rolling your eyes and sighing every time the child in the seat behind you starts crying because you've rudely woken them up, how about you take some responsibility and put the damn thing away.
old people: i am not begrudging your right to fly. at all. but if you are somehow impaired and cannot walk without assistance, try and get a seat near a bathroom so when you have to go, you aren't invading the personal space of every single person you pass. walking from the front of the main cabin and having to grasp every seat, every time invades the precious little personal space each of us possess as we soar to our next destination, especially when you wind up accidentally smacking people in the head. next time, use the brains in your head to plan your trip better, or bring a walker.
moms: fine, you wanted to bring your precious darling with you on vacation. it's neglectful parenting when you don't do everything in your power to ensure their comfort on the flight. personally, i would never take any child under the age of 3 on a flight, not even on a short one, but obviously you have a different view point. fine. at least take care of and anticipate their needs. you're a horrible person otherwise, because not only is your child suffering, but everyone around you is suffering. having to listen to a small child's cries of hunger/hot/cold/fatigue/discomfort/restlessness is torture, because there's a small, helpless human being who needs something and there's not a thing that the people around you can do about it without looking like a judgmental asshole, even if you, the parent, deserve some asshole treatment for not doing anything to make your child feel better. in that same vein, back to the obnoxious 20-somethings: it's not like that small child exists to annoy you. blame their parents.
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Comments: 5 fanned the flames - where there's smoke there's fire.
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