Small Victory

I didn't cry at all today. I consider this a small victory.

D&C

Went in for the D&C yesterday. Wasn't sure what to expect but the nurses and doctors at Christ really made an awful situation as comfortable as they could. The procedure was scheduled for 7:45am so we had to be there at 6:15, which means we had to wake up at around 5. I hate early mornings and the only time I ever look forward to getting up that early is when we're leaving for vacation. This experience killed my love of waking up early.

When we got to the hospital, they checked in me, had me change in to a gown and then the nurse asked me tons of questions. You know, the norm - how far along were you, have you had any bleeding, are you a diabetic, etc. etc. They checked my temp and my blood pressure and then the good drugs doctor came in (the anesthesiologist??) and asked me even more questions. The nurse hooked up my IV and put a sea-sick patch behind my ear to help with the anesthesia. Then came the good drugs - the ones that the nurse promised would make me feel like I was on a cruise. Guess what, they didn't make me feel like I was on a cruise but they did make me forget the pain for a few minutes.

They wheeled me in to surgery and covered me with warm blankets and socks and the last thing I remember was telling my OBGYN that the next time around, I was coming in to his office for ultrasounds every week. He agreed and then I was out. I bet he thinks I won't remember his agreement but I'll remember. I'll remember.

The next thing I know, I was slowly waking up in recovery. My mouth was dry, my throat hurt and I wasn't pregnant anymore. We were home by 11am. 5 hours later and we were home. I much prefer my previous visit to Christ where I stayed for days, had my stomach cut open but got to leave with an amazingly beautiful baby boy.

The last 48 hours have been rough. The hospital sent home information on miscarriages and a memory box for anything baby-related. When we were at the hospital, I had to sign paperwork on what I would like done with the ashes of the "baby." the tissue is sent to pathology for testing and then to a local cemetery for cremation. Was this okay or did we want something else done with the ashes? We chose not to keep them - now all I can do is question whether or not that was the right decision. My dr told Andrew that he didnt find much tissue in there during the procedure so this just validated our decision to move forward with the D&C. I don't know what I should believe - was there ever a "baby" or just tissue that didn't form much further? If it was just tissue, I'm okay with the hospital's plan. If there was a "baby" I feel like we need to call and reverse our decision so we can bring the baby with us. Either way, I just wish I didn't have to think about it anymore.

I'm going to go now - bed time is rough so I think I'll take a klonopin and hope it washes my worries away for awhile.

A Loss

We got bad news today. We lost the baby.

My therapist has always said it helps to write, so I decided I needed to write about everything I'm going through... Please forgive me, some of my thoughts may not make sense or sound a bit crazy but its what in my head and right now, I just need to get it out.

My head hurts.
My eyes hurt.
My heart hurts.

I was really ready for another baby. During my pregnancy with Owen, I spent 1/2 my time worrying that I was going to miscarry and everything turned out beautifully with him. This time, I tried to think positive, enjoy the journey, cherish every bout of heartburn and indigestion and enjoy going to bed at 8pm. F*C* THAT!!!!!!!!!!!!This is what I get for being positive!!!!!!!!!!!
All my life, I've been a negative nancy. Maybe not externally, but internally. "this isn't going to work out, don't get your hopes you, you will probably fail" and then when things worked out, I got to be surprised and excited. Not this time, this time I go against my grain and think positive and everything turns to sh*it anyway.

This is my fault. I know everyone says not to think that way and that it isn't my fault, but it is. Here is a list of why its my fault:
1. I am on antidepressants
2. I took tylenol pm
3. I drank diet pop
4. I am selfish
5. I took sudafed.
6. I stopped going to the Catholic church - yes, God punishes.
7. I got ppd and am therefore a horrible mom and don't deserve another child. I should feel lucky that God gave me one in the first place.
8. I quit my job. Secretly, this baby figured we couldn't afford him/her so he/she jumped ship.
9. I'm not a good enough mom.
10. My house isn't clean enough - the baby thought I was a slob and jumped ship so he/she wouldn't have to live in this hole.

I just want this to all be over.

I'm hungry.
My head hurts.
I'm tired.
My eyes hurt.
This sucks.

Oh my....what am I thinking??

OMG - what am I thinking?? What makes me think I have what it takes to be a Stay at Home mom?? What makes me think that this is a good idea??

I have the patience of well.....a pregnant, hormonal woman, and have a 2 1/2 year old who likes to test that patience every chance he can! Right now, he is throwing his slinkly across the family room over his dad's head and proceeding to climb on/over/through said dad (who mind you, is trying to watch The Masters) to get the slinky. He is doing all this with no pants on (well, underwear only) because he just went potty and absolutely refuses to put bottoms on. Opps, dad just got hit in the head with the slinky and the O-man now wants to play horsey.

WHAT AM I GOING TO DO WHEN ITS JUST ME AND HIM ALL DAY LONG AND HE WANTS TO CLIMB ALL OVER ME???

The Daddy-Guy is my salvation on the weekends. He is the discipliner - the "mean-cop", the potty attendant. Do I have what it takes to take those roles on when I stay home....??

I need to start practicing my best "Wait til your father gets home!!"

Love,
E

I did it!

So I did it - I quit my job yesterday. Between the pregnancy and my raging anxiety, I had to. I just couldn't give 100% anymore. And right now, my company needs 120% from the person in this role. There is a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it.

My boss was supportive - said she understood and thought the move was "courageous." My teammates were happy for me but upset. Everyone of course wants to know why I'm leaving and where I am going. It's so nice to say "I'm going home." I can't wait to stay at home with my little guy for awhile. He and I can enjoy the summer together and who knows, maybe eventually I'll get fed up with staying home and try something new. That's the beauty of this situation right now - I have OPTIONS.

I am sooooo thankful to all of my family and friends who have spent countless hours listening to me vent, cry, scream, etc. You all are the reason I was brave enough to take this leap!

And I am especially grateful to my amazing hubby. Its hard going from two incomes to one and for a man who enjoys his electronics and has big plans for our financial future, I think this decision has him nervous. But we will be fine!

Plus, I've signed up to be a Dove Chocolate Discoveries Chocolatier. Not sure what that is?? Stay tuned....I am sure I will be writing a lot about this venture on my blog.

I'm also going to start working on my mad candy-making/baking skills. Everyone knows my ultimate goal is to one day own my own bakery so be prepared for lots of pictures of all of my creations and the ups and downs of running my own business!

Love,
E

Stupid

Dear E (circa 2013):
Do not do this again. Do you hear me? DO NOT. In about 3 years when this new little one is an energy-filled toddler running around the house all the time you may, just may, get that "i want a baby" sparkle in your eye.

*SLLLLLLAAAAAPPPPP*

Wake up woman! NO! DO NOT. If you do, I will commit you - I swear! The exhaustion, the nausea, the increased sense of smell that makes you want to hurl anytime you smell anything food-related - NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

Adopt. Just don't put yourself through this misery again!

Love,
E (circa 2010)

Pregnant

Yes bloggers, that's right - I am pregnant. I'm due around Halloween and feeling so gross right now.

So since this is my blog and I can do what I want, I'm going to whine about it.

I'm only about 5 weeks along but am already feeling like poo. In fact, I think I have the opposite of morning sickness. All day sickness. Worst in the evening.... Anxiety raging, stomach upset, heartburn like mo-fo, headaches, and tired. I don't remember getting this sick with Owen this early. I remember starting to feel gross around 6-7 weeks maybe....but 5?? This is going to be a really long 9 months. Argh.

Someone remind me why I did this again??

Love,
E

Feeling Guilty

Ah yes, the G word. How you rule my life you bastard. Today I am feeling guilty because I think poor Owen spends too much time at daycare and that they are raising him, not me and Andrew. Literally, he spends at least 9 hours per day at day care 5 days a week so thats 45 hours per week. Take away the time he spends sleeping and we have about 1.5 hours with him in the evening (1.5*5=7.5 hours) plus our weekend time (12 hours per day about *2 = 24 hours) 24 + 7.5= 31.5 hours. Thats 13.5 hours less than daycare!!!

So when he does stuff like use manners or pee in the potty, I can't help but think "daycare taught him that, not me" and it makes me kinda sad. There are days where I love that he's in daycare - interacting with other kids, learning spanish and japanese, doing art projects, etc. Things that he wouldn't get if he was home all day with me. But still, my kid is awesome because of the awesome daycare he goes to, not me....and that makes me sad and feel incredibly guilty.

Love,
E

Happy Valentines Day Cont.

So, where was I? Ah, yes Junior year memories.

I was telling Andrew earlier how I was reminiscing about the snowstorm and he reminded me that we either drove or walked uptown during that storm to have breakfast uptown and it was like deserted. That whole weekend was amazing - we didn't have to worry about missing work or shoveling driveways. We didn't have to worry about having enough diapers in the house or letting the dog out in the cold. We could literally just curl up under blankets for HOURS without moving and no one would care. *sigh*

That year, we decided to go to Destin for spring break. Other friends were going any place there would be a good party but a group of us really just wanted to relax over break and not worry about having to party 24/7. Plus, Sarath needed to study for the M-Cat. So we rented a cool little condo in Destin and 8 of us spent a week on the beach. It was Me and Andrew, our friends Sarath and Betsy, Betsy's sister and her boyfriend, Chris, and our friend Samantha. We got up way early in the morning, packed up two cars full of our stuff and drove the 12+ hours to Destin. This is one of the first times I remember really feeling like an "adult". This was really the first vacation I had ever taken without my parents and it was up to us to figure out directions to the condo, to get around Destin and, the most frustrating part - pay ing for own dinners out LOL The trip ended up being positive and negative - some friendships never returned to normal after but it was Andrew and I's first vacation together and for that reason alone, it holds a special place in my heart :)

Junior year ended and we both moved home for the summer. Andrew was working for Marysville Parks Department and spent the summer mowing lawns, mulching and getting extremely tan and buff. Hmmmmmm yum. I spent the summer working orientation, then nannying, and finally taking on an internship at the Cincinnati Business Courier. Let me share with you one of the scariest moments during the summer.

It was sometime in June and I had been trying to get ahold of Andrew all evening. He finally called me only to tell me that he had been taken to the hospital! He had been up late the night before playing video games (of course!) and was exhausted during work that day. He had plans to meet up with his parents for dinner that night but was so tired that he decided to stop by the gas station and get a couple caffeine pills during the afternoon. He headed home from work, took a shower, and started to drive to meet his parents. He hadn't been feeling real well since taking the pills - his heart was racing and he was feeling neausous, dizzy and just overall, awful. He ended up having to pull over during his drive and call 911 because he felt like he was going to die. They took him to the hospital and told him that he his heart was racing so fast and if it had gone any further, he would have had heart damage! I was so worried about him and he was almost 3 hours away! A couple days later, I was home and again, try to get ahold of Andrew. I had called his cell phone about a million times and even called his house a million times with no answer. His parents had gone out of town and I immediately had these horrible images of him laying on the floor mid heart-attack with no one there to help him. So, I, like an loving significant other would do, called the cops. LOL Yes, I called the cops and asked that they drive over to my boyfriends house because his parents were out of town and he had been hospitalized a couple days before and I was trying to get ahold of him and was worried. And you know what, like any good small-town police department - they went to the house! Andrew was there and in good health, but completely caught off guard and the police showed up! Everything was fine but Andrew made me feel so bad for calling the cops! He didn't understand how worried I was! I guess he had been at a friends playing video games and his phone was on silent which is why he didn't get my calls. I tried to explain over and over again that I did it because I was worried about his health but he still didn't seem to get it. We ended up getting a big fight that night and both went to bed angry. The next night, he showed up at my house dressed in a suit, carrying 2 dozen roses as an apology for getting so upset. He finally realized that I had only done it because I had been so worried and that he was wrong for getting mad. I like it when he admits he's wrong :)

My husband would now like me to make him carbonaro so to be continued...

Love,
E

Happy Valentines Day

It is way early on Valentines Day. I'm battling this crazy cold and was laying in bed, tossing and turning, listening to my husband snore and thinking about all of the wonderful memories I have of the two of us when I decided to get up and write a very special Valentines Day blog in honor of my awesome, sleeping, snoring husband :)

Here are some of my favorites:

The day we first met I was a sophomore in college and had just transferred to Miami. My ex-boyfriend George and I had made a "lunch date". I lived in Ogden Hall, right above Bell Tower so who knows why but George and I went all the way down to Martin dining hall down by Flower and Hahne. We got our lunches and slid into a booth in the dining hall when George recognized one of his fraternity brothers and decided to call him over to sit with us. It was Andrew, or "Roush" as they used to call him. Andrew and I probably just said "hi" and the three of us sat there in awkward silence over our food for the next 20 minutes. I thought he was cute but he had an air of confidence about him that made me believe he could get any girl he wanted and was probably a bit of a "player" Boy how wrong I was, but more on that later.

I ran in to Andrew a 2nd time that summer at a party my friends Kendra and Nikki were having at their apartment. Somehow, they had invited Michael Bonham, who had invited Brett Taylor and "Roush". At the time, I was "talking" to a guy named Andy and barely even spent any time with "Roush". The party came and went and I didn't think twice about the guy from the party.

Now, skip to the fall of my junior year. As fate would have it, the previous year I had made arrangements to live with Kendra on campus in Gamma Phi's sorority hall. Long story short but sororities at Miami didn't have houses, but the University so graciously *sigh*cough* sets aside a block of dorm rooms for only a sorority and whoever the members chose to live with. So after K's horrible roommate experience the previous year, we had decided it was safer to live together. Late in our sophomore year, Kendra decided that Miami wasn't the place for her and transferred to Sinclair. Therefore, I was left without a roommate and could a.) take my chances of being assigned to a room with a random person the next year or b.) accept the invitation from Angie across the hall to live with her in Ox-commons, seeing as her previous roommate had also changed her mind. So, I was living in Ox commons - 1603 Ox commons maybe? In a one room apartment with Angie, a girl I knew only in passing and who I wll forever remember for her smoking habits, shingles outbreak, and crazy-ass boyfriend who I found passed out on our couch one morning in his tightie whities. Awesome.

I moved in to Miami about a week early because I was helping out with Orientation and needed to be there for transfer orientation (which ironically enough, Kendra and I had skipped when we transfered in haha!) and for this mini refresher orientation they put on for the freshman. I knew my friend Mike was moving in early to his fraternity house and called him one night out of the blue to see what he was doing. He told me that he was at a party at 1604 Ox commons! "No way - that's right next door to me, I'm coming over!" I told him as I invited myself into his night. This was the night I really saw "Roush".

Over the next couple weeks, I'd saunter over to his place whenever I heard a party going on or would wave flirtaously as I walked past and he was standing on the porch smoking a cigarette. I told Mike that I was falling hard for "Roush" and asked that he help coax it along. Sure enough, one night during a party, "Roush" and I ventured over to my apartment where it was a little quieter and we could "talk." Within a few minutes of sitting down on the couch, he romantically leaned over to me and said "I really want to kiss you.....but my mouth is dry" Awesome. Smooth move Romeo. So up I went over to the counter and got him some water. Most girls would have been like "whatever!" and walked out but not me, I got him that water so I could get a kiss. And boy what a kiss it was! He was a good kisser - phew! I would have really regretted the whole water thing if he wasn't. After that, it's all kinda blurry. I remember him telling me he wanted to date and when I asked if he wanted us to date exclusively or not, he said exclusively and my heart melted. Remember earlier when I mentioned how I thought he was a bit of a "player" the first time I met him based on his confidence level alone? Yeah, well I soon came to find out that I was wrong, so so wrong. In fact, I was his first girlfriend! His first kiss! He wasn't that player I initally pegged him to be - he was innocent!

I will always look back on Junior year and smile because of meeting and falling in love with Andrew. Our first real date was dinner at Kona with Amy and her then boyfriend, Allen. I remember our first Valentines day together- he made me dinner and my favorite dessert (tiramusu!) and we watched The Godfather. I remember meeting his parents for the first time and thinking how much his father looked like my HS band director, Wayne. I remember one weekend when all of our roommates had gone home and Oxford was hit with a snowstorm so we were literally snowed in. We made a little path from his apartment to mine and spent the entire weekend sleeping and watching movies. Oh and every Sunday we'd wake up and eat blueberry pancakes while watching Super Troopers. It became "our thing".

To be continued.....

Love,
E

I suck and here's why

I suck at keeping up with this blog. It seems like at the end of the day I barely have enough energy to brush my teeth, let alone come up with an interesting, witty account of my daily activities. Someimtes I feel like I must just be lazy. Thousands of moms do what I do everyday - commute to & from work, work a full day, make dinner, take care of the kids, etc. But they make it look so easy. How come I struggle? How come there are some nights where it takes everything in me to read books and say prayers with my son?

Sometimes I blame it on my craziness. The anxiety, the depression, the ocd. Maybe its the unrealistic expectation I set of myself to be perfect in everything I do. I literally cannot let myself fail. If I come close to failing, my axiety spikes, my brain attacks itself and I shut down.

Most people don't understand mental illness. Its not really taken seriously.

You're depressed? Oh just get over it! Smile! Life is good.

Your nervous? What are you nervous about? Don't be nervous - everything will work out. It will be ok.

Why are you obsessing over this or that? Just get over it already! I'm so sick of hearing about it.

In reality, some of us can't get happy, or get over it. We can't move on.

I'm one of those people. I'm coming out of the closet with this, if you will. I can no longer pretend it doesn't exist. I can no longer brush it under the rug and ignore it. This is more than PPD. This is not a bubble that will burst and life will be sunny again. This is something I will struggle with my entire life.

So in an attempt to deal with this new revelation in an adult-like manner, I plan to whine about it. This blog will now be my outlet. Hopefully by putting my thoughts and feelings out for the world to see I will somehow release a bit of the struggle and maybe even realize I'm not alone or crazy at all.

Wishing you peace and self acceptance.

Love,
E