**Since this is so long, here are the cliff notes, for those of you like me who have ADD, I mean a hard time reading long boring things:
Orgasm, Pregnant for like a minute, and Slug Mullet. That is really all you need to know**
So the whole reason I have a blog is so I can write my thoughts. My feelings. About what is happening in my life. If I am not being honest with myself, than I really feel this blog is pointless. I have no desire to write about niceties. I don’t want to smile and make fake. That is not who I am. That is never who I will be.
Something has been going on with me personally that I haven’t shared except with two people other than my husband. And I really want to share about it. I am just nervous to do so. I am nervous about the phone calls afterwards. I don’t want to talk about it. I want to write about it, and then it’s done. Over with. I don’t need to talk. I just did.
Basically.
It isn’t a dark deep secret, but it is something I have never experienced and sharing it makes me nervous. I feel like maybe I am admitting defeat. I am being most vulnerable. I am not shy about much.
I have implants.
I am on my second marriage.
I had a promiscuous part in my life between two husbands.
My first orgasm? I gave it to myself.
See I don’t have a lot to hide. I believe every step we take leads us to who we become. Have I done some really stupid stuff in my past? Hell yes. Will I continue to stumble though life? Of course I will. I have a big mouth and I am awkward. I will always stumble. But I am who I am and make no excuses for the person that I am.
But there is one issue I keep very private. And that is the issue of wanting another baby. Maybe because it is funnier to say “hell no” to more kids. Maybe it is from the time I was pregnant with Andi and it was finally visible and an older woman at church said to me “Oh my dear, are you pregnant?” I beamed “Yes!” and she said, “Oh my, how scary.” I just looked at her like I had been stabbed and walked away. Yes I am scared! Of course I am scared! I didn’t plan this baby, but she is growing daily in my stomach. She is a part of me and I love her. So yes anyone anywhere having a baby is scary, but do we really have to say that? I know I have a severely disabled daughter and we have NO CLUE why she is who she is. I know this very same thing can happen again. I know. I know. I know! But let’s hope it doesn’t. Pray it doesn’t and well, if it does. It isn’t the end of the world.
So just by mentioning a couple weeks ago the whole stuff about Andrew and Dr. Oz was monumental to me. You all might still be reeling from the whole orgasm thing, but hey to each their own. The whole “let’s make another baby” thing is way bigger, way deeper, way more sharing than anything else I could talk about.
So after sharing all that, let’s go back a couple weeks ok.
Andrew and I have decided to make one last ditch effort in having a boy. And we are going for it… wait let’s go back a year ago real quickly. Last year we decided this. I was still nursing Andi so that could have been the problem, but my period was on time monthly. I was charting, temping and ovulating monthly yet no baby. We did this for 6 months. Then I threw away the thermometer. We said, “let’s just see if it happens” although, when you were already tying, you know when you need to get busy. You just know too much after all that. It kinda takes all the mystery out of getting pregnant. It was so much easier with the girls and it just happening. Andi, totally not even trying.
So it still never happened. Then August I got sick. The sickest I had ever been in my life ever! I was in bed a week. I was constantly vomiting, I had the worst headache I had ever experienced and my husband wasn’t a huge load of help. We were in a much different place last year. I would admit that to being our worst year in our relationship. I am sure the baby didn’t happen, because it wasn’t supposed to at that time in our marriage. So when I got sick and I still had to get Lily ready for school. And Andi was around a lot wanting me to hold her and so on, I vowed I was done with kids, I couldn’t imagine myself having another baby while dealing with that sickness. Andrew thought I was just depressed and needed to get out of bed. I physically couldn’t. It took me over a month to feel 100% and those feelings stayed with me for a while. I decided since I was still anti child it was time to get an IUD. I was not 100% sure about that decision, but I just thought it was the right thing to do. I was so upset with my body for not getting pregnant I thought this was a sure way to say f-u to the whole thing and I got an IUD.
Well that was awful! My periods were outrageous! I gave it four periods to see if it would get better and on my fourth period it was so heavy, the blood was pouring out and there were huge clots and I was looking online at what exactly an IUD is. A minute late, dollar short I know. But I was reading some thoughts that you still can conceive but your uterus doesn’t let the embryo implant and therefore causes a miscarriage. Well I was sure that was what was happening and I was just sick over it. I don’t know if that was the real case or not, but that made me sad. I was under the impression an IUD is like a spermicide, and reading that really bothered me.
Now I am not getting into a pro life, pro-choice argument. I would never tell a person what to do with their body, neither should our government, but in my heart if that is what an IUD is doing then I am totally against that. For me. So in addition to hating my periods, hating what I had read and realizing I want another baby. I don’t want an IUD to kill it. I called my OB and said, “Take it out!” and he did.
So now here we are a couple weeks ago. I have never loved my husband more than now. We are in the most amazing relationship. I still can’t believe it all started in a nightclub. I will never believe that. I found the most amazing person, drunk in a smoky club.
But here we are, where we should have been when we were first decided to have a baby, but now here we are, wanting a third child, a boy if possible. Not that I would mind one iota if we had another girl, I actually think I would prefer it, but we do have a great boy named picked out and I would love to see Andrew with his very own son.
So Easter Sunday morning, with the help of Little Bill and huge chocolate bunnies to keep the girls occupied, I really thought we made our boy. While smiling, and crying through The Color Purple, I thought my son was on his way to the oven. Wouldn’t that be great, conceiving Easter Sunday? Well either great or sacrilegious, you decide.
So come last Wednesday and my boobs are sore, I am thinking, yes, we did it. Then some slight waves of uneasiness come to my tummy and I am sure this is it. Although my period wasn’t due until anywhere from Friday to Sunday (my cycles vary from 28-30 days) I got those First Response Early Detection pregnancy tests and waited until Thursday morning to test.
Thursday morning used my first morning pee and what did I see? Two lines! We did it! We did it! We did it! Yay! (Dora anyone?)
Excited, but knowing it is way to early I only showed Andrew. Being thrifty I bought a three pack and decided to see if daily it got darker. I was excited, but also that morning I had other major issues happening so I was distraught and upset and those two lines got pushed to the back burner.
Friday I tested, not darker. About the same. Well it is still too early. Two lines! Yay!
Saturday, not darker. About the same. Is it still too early? Two lines. Yay, maybe?
I bought another test since I needed to know.
Sunday, not only not darker, but much much fainter. My stomach drops. It is not too early. Two lines, fading. Not good. I still call and leave a message with my OB explaining that I am neurotic and want to get blood work.
Shouldn’t have called. Sunday night I start having cramps and my period comes. Devastated. My period came.
My period came after 4 positive pregnancy tests.
4.
I called Monday morning left another message to my OB saying never mind. He called me back still wanting blood work. He said come in on Monday, if I don’t call you Tuesday assume it was positive and come back on Wednesday to see if your numbers are doubling. I go in. No call Tuesday, although I am still bleeding. Very strange period. Light. Much lighter than ever before. And short. It is almost over after only 4 days. But I am no dummy, I knew it was over. I did one last ditch digital test Wednesday and it said Not Pregnant you idiot you are on your period. I could have settled just for the Not Pregnant.
So here I am one week after all this started. Bummed, but ok. I just wish the Dr. would call and confirm that I had an early miscarriage. I know. I can’t believe it. I know they happen to almost everyone. I just never wanted to be everyone.
I also know had I waited until my period was indeed late, like really late I would have never known. But I just knew it. Damn those early detection tests.
It is ok. I don’t need hugs. I don’t need to talk about this. It isn’t like I had a nursery planned. We will keep trying. But this was just heavily on my mind all week and I wanted to share.
The good news is since I am being dragged to a Nascar race this Saturday and I know that in order for me to play slug mullet I will need beer. And lots of it. So it is probably better than I don’t have to go through that sober.
We will continue to try and besides the due date would have been around Christmas break that would have been tough. So yes it was a bummer to get excited and to have been let down. But we will try again. I am talking about it and will continue to do so.
It is scary to try again. It is scary to admit to be trying. But it is something we both want and will be happy to welcome into our lives.
Wow. This took over an hour to write. I don’t know if you will all get through it and maybe that is for the best. Just read the cliff notes.
Showing posts with label Writings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Writings. Show all posts
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Friday, February 29, 2008
My Birthday Wish
I stand there with 8 candles in front of me. I smile it's my day. There are 8 candles. Everyone is singing to me.
I have a fabulous mother. She was that mom, the mom that thought every ones birthday is their very own special day and even with my birthday less than a week away from Christmas, she still managed a kid party and a family party for me, every year, without fail. And never once gave me that dreaded Christmas/Birthday gift.
I stand in front of 8 candles, the song is coming to an end, some cousin is singing that I smell like a monkey and then there is silence. I inhale all the oxygen I possibly can and hold it in tight, I make my wish and I blow out all 8 candles.
Will this be the year my wish comes true?
It had been the same wish I made every year since I understood what a birthday wish was and it had yet to come true. It wasn't for a pony, or a bike. Although I really wanted another sibling, a younger sibling, it wasn't for that either.
It was that my brother could walk.
My brother and sister are twins. They were born in the early 70's in a tiny catholic hospital in Nogales, AZ. My sister delivered just fine, but when my brother wasn't coming and they knew my mom needed a c-section, yet the surgeon was out of town, she had to labor my brother. He came 30 minutes later, blue. Dead. He was revived and survived. He was flown to Tucson and eventually came home. My parents did not know what would be his future.
Bryan has severe quad spastic cerebral palsy. Although he has brain damage, his mental status is as any other man his age. Of course he has "issues" that nowadays would have been diagnosed and put in some sort of therapy for, but we just called him strong willed. And he is.
I never looked twice at Bryan. He was my brother. I was 6 years their junior and I liked him because at least he, unlike my sister, was never too cool for me.
Bryan as a kid was joyful. He had this huge smile. He liked to make jokes and would even make fun of his self with his strong slurred speech.
He also had anger issues and would blow up over the tiniest of things. As kids we fought. He and my sister had knock down drag outs. We joke that we all have permanently dented shins because of all the times he ran his chair into them.
But I always had a strong love for my brother. I mean, strong hate too at times, but it never was indifference towards him. When I rode my bike, he'd drive his electric chair, we had fun times together.
But I wanted to him walk.
I wanted him to be on the football team, not a mascot who got to sit on the sidelines wearing a jersey. I wanted him in the Olympics, not the Special Olympics. I wanted him to have real friends, not ones who did drugs and taught him to smoke and make contraptions for him to smoke by him self at 16. I wanted him healthy, not just physically but mentally.
Bryan has always been fighting demons. I think it was a curse for him to be mentally well and stuck in a body so physically sick. As I look at him today, right now he lays in the hospital, once again for drinking so much he put himself into a dangerous state, pancreatitis once again. I think would he not have lost himself so if his brain worked properly? Does he just have that addictive personality that even at 100% little things would send him over the edge? How would his life be different minus that wheelchair?
Not one family member has visited Bryan this time. I know how that sounds and I am sure how it looks. He is in there monthly. Monthly!
His body is not strong enough to do this. I fear my parents will have to bury their son. I fear I will loose him. Although I already feel we have. His sparkle is gone. His smile is faded. He isn't that jovial boy he once was.
I guess none of us are.
But he is a smart guy. He could have had so much. Yes it is a hard life. No I don't think I'd survive a day in it, but he could have done so much. He could have inspired. He could have given me more hope in raising a special child of my own. I have been angry with him for so long and it is causing indifference, which is worst of all.
Could he change? Sure I guess he could. But will he? I don’t think so.
I have a fabulous mother. She was that mom, the mom that thought every ones birthday is their very own special day and even with my birthday less than a week away from Christmas, she still managed a kid party and a family party for me, every year, without fail. And never once gave me that dreaded Christmas/Birthday gift.
I stand in front of 8 candles, the song is coming to an end, some cousin is singing that I smell like a monkey and then there is silence. I inhale all the oxygen I possibly can and hold it in tight, I make my wish and I blow out all 8 candles.
Will this be the year my wish comes true?
It had been the same wish I made every year since I understood what a birthday wish was and it had yet to come true. It wasn't for a pony, or a bike. Although I really wanted another sibling, a younger sibling, it wasn't for that either.
It was that my brother could walk.
My brother and sister are twins. They were born in the early 70's in a tiny catholic hospital in Nogales, AZ. My sister delivered just fine, but when my brother wasn't coming and they knew my mom needed a c-section, yet the surgeon was out of town, she had to labor my brother. He came 30 minutes later, blue. Dead. He was revived and survived. He was flown to Tucson and eventually came home. My parents did not know what would be his future.
Bryan has severe quad spastic cerebral palsy. Although he has brain damage, his mental status is as any other man his age. Of course he has "issues" that nowadays would have been diagnosed and put in some sort of therapy for, but we just called him strong willed. And he is.
I never looked twice at Bryan. He was my brother. I was 6 years their junior and I liked him because at least he, unlike my sister, was never too cool for me.
Bryan as a kid was joyful. He had this huge smile. He liked to make jokes and would even make fun of his self with his strong slurred speech.
He also had anger issues and would blow up over the tiniest of things. As kids we fought. He and my sister had knock down drag outs. We joke that we all have permanently dented shins because of all the times he ran his chair into them.
But I always had a strong love for my brother. I mean, strong hate too at times, but it never was indifference towards him. When I rode my bike, he'd drive his electric chair, we had fun times together.
But I wanted to him walk.
I wanted him to be on the football team, not a mascot who got to sit on the sidelines wearing a jersey. I wanted him in the Olympics, not the Special Olympics. I wanted him to have real friends, not ones who did drugs and taught him to smoke and make contraptions for him to smoke by him self at 16. I wanted him healthy, not just physically but mentally.
Bryan has always been fighting demons. I think it was a curse for him to be mentally well and stuck in a body so physically sick. As I look at him today, right now he lays in the hospital, once again for drinking so much he put himself into a dangerous state, pancreatitis once again. I think would he not have lost himself so if his brain worked properly? Does he just have that addictive personality that even at 100% little things would send him over the edge? How would his life be different minus that wheelchair?
Not one family member has visited Bryan this time. I know how that sounds and I am sure how it looks. He is in there monthly. Monthly!
His body is not strong enough to do this. I fear my parents will have to bury their son. I fear I will loose him. Although I already feel we have. His sparkle is gone. His smile is faded. He isn't that jovial boy he once was.
I guess none of us are.
But he is a smart guy. He could have had so much. Yes it is a hard life. No I don't think I'd survive a day in it, but he could have done so much. He could have inspired. He could have given me more hope in raising a special child of my own. I have been angry with him for so long and it is causing indifference, which is worst of all.
Could he change? Sure I guess he could. But will he? I don’t think so.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Diarrhea of the soul
Most of you know I was married.
Before Andrew.
I married my HS sweetheart whom although I loved, I don't know if I really thought it was a life time commitment. I know that doesn't make sense, but what 20 year old usually does? Most the women in my family married their HS sweetheart. It is what you do. Graduate, get married, have kids. I wanted the wedding and I had it. It was beautiful. It was the perfect wedding with the wrong guy. I didn't say bad guy, I just said wrong guy. The funny thing is though; with him I never wanted kids. I have always been that person that couldn't wait to have kids. I remember praying, since we were so overly taught in Sunday school to fear the rapture, I prayed that I could be a mom before the rapture. Strange prayer I know, but I just so badly wanted to be a mom. Yet I was married, but didn't want kids. Let me rephrase, I didn't want kids with my husband. I have said this before and strongly believe that having a child with someone is the biggest commitment you can make to another person. I just feel that you have to know what you are getting into when you make a child with someone. I know unplanned pregnancies happen, I believe everything happens for a reason, but I also think you are now stuck with a person you don't like for the rest of your life. You are linked to that person b/c of your child. I never wanted that. I never wanted to have to be linked to anyone I didn't want to be linked to. After our divorce was final and when everything was said and done I saw my ex in October of 2000 and that was the last I have seen or ever heard from him and that was it. It wasn't messy, we just walked away. I liked it that way.
But being 21 and a divorcee is a little disheartening. I followed my heart to the alter and followed it to the divorce store (literally). I rarely care what people think of me. I like to dance and sing silly. I like to wear funny clothes and get people to laugh. I love being on stage and acting. So it wasn't out of my character to easily fall out of love and act on it. What I didn't expect was all the opinions of people totally not involved. It was weird to feel so judged. It was weird to go to a church and feel like you are looked at like a sinner. It still is weird to tell people I was married before. It was something I acted on and didn't think of the consequences until it was too late. I got phone calls, cards, people coming straight up to me to tell me how marriage works and what I did wrong and blah blah blah.
But you know what, I have regrets in life, yes I do. But that marriage isn't one of them. I couldn't begin to tell you all what I learned in those months of freedom, freedom I would have never known or appreciated had I not been married. I lived in an apartment on my own. I dated lots (lots!). I'd elaborate, but my mom is a reader ;) From the age of 16 I went from one boyfriend to the next one and that one I married. I had no idea what was in the world and I got to learn. Oh boy did I learn. Oh boy did I live. Did I do some random dumb things? Of course I did, but I needed to do it. I needed to make mistakes. I needed to make out with strangers. I needed to live so I didn't feel so uncomfortable when I decided to settle down and do it for real.
I met Andrew way sooner than I would have liked to or expected to, but he was the one. Although I certainly wasn't looking for him, I knew he was it and he was. He is. We had Lily one year after our wedding anniversary because I wanted to be linked to him forever. I wanted to commit to him in a way I had never committed before.
The funny thing is my ex isn't a bad person. I have nothing bad to say about him. He just wasn't my guy. It is so weird to write about it. To be so open about this, something I rarely talk about, but I felt like it needed to come out.
A little verbal (non verbal) diarrhea is good for the soul.
Before Andrew.
I married my HS sweetheart whom although I loved, I don't know if I really thought it was a life time commitment. I know that doesn't make sense, but what 20 year old usually does? Most the women in my family married their HS sweetheart. It is what you do. Graduate, get married, have kids. I wanted the wedding and I had it. It was beautiful. It was the perfect wedding with the wrong guy. I didn't say bad guy, I just said wrong guy. The funny thing is though; with him I never wanted kids. I have always been that person that couldn't wait to have kids. I remember praying, since we were so overly taught in Sunday school to fear the rapture, I prayed that I could be a mom before the rapture. Strange prayer I know, but I just so badly wanted to be a mom. Yet I was married, but didn't want kids. Let me rephrase, I didn't want kids with my husband. I have said this before and strongly believe that having a child with someone is the biggest commitment you can make to another person. I just feel that you have to know what you are getting into when you make a child with someone. I know unplanned pregnancies happen, I believe everything happens for a reason, but I also think you are now stuck with a person you don't like for the rest of your life. You are linked to that person b/c of your child. I never wanted that. I never wanted to have to be linked to anyone I didn't want to be linked to. After our divorce was final and when everything was said and done I saw my ex in October of 2000 and that was the last I have seen or ever heard from him and that was it. It wasn't messy, we just walked away. I liked it that way.
But being 21 and a divorcee is a little disheartening. I followed my heart to the alter and followed it to the divorce store (literally). I rarely care what people think of me. I like to dance and sing silly. I like to wear funny clothes and get people to laugh. I love being on stage and acting. So it wasn't out of my character to easily fall out of love and act on it. What I didn't expect was all the opinions of people totally not involved. It was weird to feel so judged. It was weird to go to a church and feel like you are looked at like a sinner. It still is weird to tell people I was married before. It was something I acted on and didn't think of the consequences until it was too late. I got phone calls, cards, people coming straight up to me to tell me how marriage works and what I did wrong and blah blah blah.
But you know what, I have regrets in life, yes I do. But that marriage isn't one of them. I couldn't begin to tell you all what I learned in those months of freedom, freedom I would have never known or appreciated had I not been married. I lived in an apartment on my own. I dated lots (lots!). I'd elaborate, but my mom is a reader ;) From the age of 16 I went from one boyfriend to the next one and that one I married. I had no idea what was in the world and I got to learn. Oh boy did I learn. Oh boy did I live. Did I do some random dumb things? Of course I did, but I needed to do it. I needed to make mistakes. I needed to make out with strangers. I needed to live so I didn't feel so uncomfortable when I decided to settle down and do it for real.
I met Andrew way sooner than I would have liked to or expected to, but he was the one. Although I certainly wasn't looking for him, I knew he was it and he was. He is. We had Lily one year after our wedding anniversary because I wanted to be linked to him forever. I wanted to commit to him in a way I had never committed before.
The funny thing is my ex isn't a bad person. I have nothing bad to say about him. He just wasn't my guy. It is so weird to write about it. To be so open about this, something I rarely talk about, but I felt like it needed to come out.
A little verbal (non verbal) diarrhea is good for the soul.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Where do I begin?
May I start with a loud, large sigh? SIIIIGGGGHHHHHHH........ I am tired. I am butt ass tired. Is that an expression? I am tired physically, emotionally and what other way can you be tired? Spiritually? Ok, add that too.
I really don't know what is wrong with me, I am so down. I swear I am manic. Just Sunday I was jumping up and down singing with the Grammy's and yesterday I was in the bathroom at the hospital choking back tears. Just take off my panties and call me Brittany.
Maybe I am tired because getting up with the puppy nightly is weighing in on me. Maybe it is because Andi didn't nap and she slept from 5:45pm to 4:45am and I was up with her. Maybe it is because I gave up Coke for lent, no not that coke.... the kind you snort. Maybe it is because this damn IUD is making me hemorrhage monthly and I am anemic. Maybe it is because I am having a pity party for myself.
Maybe, Maybe, Maybe.
I needed a urine sample for Lily yesterday before we went to our appointment at the hospital to start this study; finally, I mean really start it with the meds.
You get a urine sample from a 5 year old, 47 lb kid who wears diapers. I couldn't get one at home. She peed all over and around the bag they gave me. I sat her on the little potty an hour the night before and an hour the morning of our appointment. She would not go on it. I got up to grab something and she had a drop seizure and fell off the toilet, she was so sad. I was sad. I put her back on the potty and prayed, "God please, just please let her pee, just a little, please” but no pee. We were running late, so I figured just go and hope they can get it. They wouldn't. I had to. She had to have her blood drawn, an ECG and they told me to sit with her on the potty for 20 minutes and we did. I ran the water; I stroked her hair trying to relax her. I told her repeatedly to go potty. She had no idea what I was saying. I was once again praying, "Please God, just a little pee, PLEASE!" Never any pee. She pees the minute I put her diaper on and I start to cry. I wipe my eyes come out and shake my head. Nope. No pee. Another ECG and they give us 2 hours to get lunch and get pee and take it to the lab. I get another bag and try to put it on right. Putting my 47 lb, 47" daughter on a diaper changer for infants. Then we go sit in the cafeteria. I try to get a tray of food and push her in a busy cafeteria. Not easy. We sit down. I feed her.
I watch an older woman walking with a cane while trying to push her adult mentally and physically challenged son in his wheelchair and I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. Am I looking at my future? Next I look over at a couple of women huddled together crying, and I quickly look away as I think, I know what they are feeling. I was overwhelmed with sadness. I started having flashbacks of sitting in that cafeteria 3 years ago. I was pregnant and just handed my 2 year old over to let them cut her brain in half. I sat there toying with my food, staring at my food, swallowing the lump in my throat, because I don't cry in public. That date comes and goes and I ignore it. It was one of those days in your life that if you try hard enough you can almost wish it away. Almost. But yesterday sitting there spoon feeding Lily in that very cafeteria in the hospital I handed her over not knowing if I would ever see her alive again, it came back. I washed my thoughts away, fed her quickly and we went outside. We went outside and I pretended the people in scrubs sitting outside eating were Meredith, Izzy and George. I pretended what their conversations were because if I listened to my thoughts I would have broken down. We go to the bathroom and guess who peed, not in the bag? Lily. I know it isn't her fault, but c'mon, seriously? Still no pee sample. So I gave up. I told the lady that I will just bring it in on Thursday. I don't know how I will get it, but I will figure it out. It isn't a skip away either, so this was overly frustrating. I think I just have too much on my plate and it overwhelms me at times. I usually skate though our busy days, but yesterday I was overwhelmed. Probably because I was tired, probably because I was feeling sorry for myself, probably because sometimes life sucks. Most moms of 5 year olds can get a urine sample. Most parents of 5 year olds don't have kids in diapers. I know some do. I know I am not the only person dealing with these struggles, but sometimes I can't be tough. Some days I want to scream. Some days I just want to lock the door and cry in the bathroom at a hospital.
But today is a new day.
Unfortunately I am still crabby. Just ask Andrew who called and asked what I wanted for Valentines Day. I ripped him a new one because I already told him not to waste money, we don't have it right now to waste on chocolate and flowers. I said I told you I want to get some lunch and a card! Oops, I know he meant well, but don't ask me what I want for Valentines Day, if you want to get me something just do it, it isn't my damn birthday, I don't have a valentines day wish list.... please.
Oops. Well tomorrow is a new day.
*Side note*
I have been bugging my bff (snicker) "Kibberts" to make her own blog. She is an English teacher, she is an amazing writer, with an even more amazing story to tell and she finally picked her lazy ass up and did it. You have to check it out, she is fabulous!! I am so excited to share her with you all, but you can't have her. She is my bff.
I really don't know what is wrong with me, I am so down. I swear I am manic. Just Sunday I was jumping up and down singing with the Grammy's and yesterday I was in the bathroom at the hospital choking back tears. Just take off my panties and call me Brittany.
Maybe I am tired because getting up with the puppy nightly is weighing in on me. Maybe it is because Andi didn't nap and she slept from 5:45pm to 4:45am and I was up with her. Maybe it is because I gave up Coke for lent, no not that coke.... the kind you snort. Maybe it is because this damn IUD is making me hemorrhage monthly and I am anemic. Maybe it is because I am having a pity party for myself.
Maybe, Maybe, Maybe.
I needed a urine sample for Lily yesterday before we went to our appointment at the hospital to start this study; finally, I mean really start it with the meds.
You get a urine sample from a 5 year old, 47 lb kid who wears diapers. I couldn't get one at home. She peed all over and around the bag they gave me. I sat her on the little potty an hour the night before and an hour the morning of our appointment. She would not go on it. I got up to grab something and she had a drop seizure and fell off the toilet, she was so sad. I was sad. I put her back on the potty and prayed, "God please, just please let her pee, just a little, please” but no pee. We were running late, so I figured just go and hope they can get it. They wouldn't. I had to. She had to have her blood drawn, an ECG and they told me to sit with her on the potty for 20 minutes and we did. I ran the water; I stroked her hair trying to relax her. I told her repeatedly to go potty. She had no idea what I was saying. I was once again praying, "Please God, just a little pee, PLEASE!" Never any pee. She pees the minute I put her diaper on and I start to cry. I wipe my eyes come out and shake my head. Nope. No pee. Another ECG and they give us 2 hours to get lunch and get pee and take it to the lab. I get another bag and try to put it on right. Putting my 47 lb, 47" daughter on a diaper changer for infants. Then we go sit in the cafeteria. I try to get a tray of food and push her in a busy cafeteria. Not easy. We sit down. I feed her.
I watch an older woman walking with a cane while trying to push her adult mentally and physically challenged son in his wheelchair and I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. Am I looking at my future? Next I look over at a couple of women huddled together crying, and I quickly look away as I think, I know what they are feeling. I was overwhelmed with sadness. I started having flashbacks of sitting in that cafeteria 3 years ago. I was pregnant and just handed my 2 year old over to let them cut her brain in half. I sat there toying with my food, staring at my food, swallowing the lump in my throat, because I don't cry in public. That date comes and goes and I ignore it. It was one of those days in your life that if you try hard enough you can almost wish it away. Almost. But yesterday sitting there spoon feeding Lily in that very cafeteria in the hospital I handed her over not knowing if I would ever see her alive again, it came back. I washed my thoughts away, fed her quickly and we went outside. We went outside and I pretended the people in scrubs sitting outside eating were Meredith, Izzy and George. I pretended what their conversations were because if I listened to my thoughts I would have broken down. We go to the bathroom and guess who peed, not in the bag? Lily. I know it isn't her fault, but c'mon, seriously? Still no pee sample. So I gave up. I told the lady that I will just bring it in on Thursday. I don't know how I will get it, but I will figure it out. It isn't a skip away either, so this was overly frustrating. I think I just have too much on my plate and it overwhelms me at times. I usually skate though our busy days, but yesterday I was overwhelmed. Probably because I was tired, probably because I was feeling sorry for myself, probably because sometimes life sucks. Most moms of 5 year olds can get a urine sample. Most parents of 5 year olds don't have kids in diapers. I know some do. I know I am not the only person dealing with these struggles, but sometimes I can't be tough. Some days I want to scream. Some days I just want to lock the door and cry in the bathroom at a hospital.
But today is a new day.
Unfortunately I am still crabby. Just ask Andrew who called and asked what I wanted for Valentines Day. I ripped him a new one because I already told him not to waste money, we don't have it right now to waste on chocolate and flowers. I said I told you I want to get some lunch and a card! Oops, I know he meant well, but don't ask me what I want for Valentines Day, if you want to get me something just do it, it isn't my damn birthday, I don't have a valentines day wish list.... please.
Oops. Well tomorrow is a new day.
*Side note*
I have been bugging my bff (snicker) "Kibberts" to make her own blog. She is an English teacher, she is an amazing writer, with an even more amazing story to tell and she finally picked her lazy ass up and did it. You have to check it out, she is fabulous!! I am so excited to share her with you all, but you can't have her. She is my bff.
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