My whores are moaning

You know, I really ought to preface this post with an apology to everyone reading who wants to be pregnant and isn’t, or to everyone who will never, ever be pregnant, or to people entirely without female reproductive organs, but I’m not going to. I’m pregnant and I’m going to write about it a lot here. If it upsets you in any way, it’s purely unintentional and I compassionately advise that you stop reading and maybe check back in a year or so. xxoo, Erica

I’m pretty pissed at my hormones right now. Here’s a detailed (and incomplete) list as to why:

1. I have a fucking fever blister. Nothing like a pregnant waitress with herpes bringing your dinner. YUM!
2. The nausea is awful. Have I mentioned that I work around food? Again, YUM!
3. My nipples have been on red alert for 10 days straight.
4. My boobs are heavy and sore and I hate them.
5. I’m pretty sure it was my hormones that tricked me into thinking getting pregnant again was a good idea. They even forced me to romanticize the experience! I pictured myself with an ethereal maternal glow, lovingly cradling my round little belly. WTF? I mean, really, Erica? Who’s dumb enough to fall for that? Me, that’s who.
6. Again with the nausea.

Thoughts from the uterus

I got the results of my second hCG test today. I’m wicked pregnant, yo. The OB scheduled me for a sonogram on 10/19 to check for the possibilty of twins to make sure all is progressing according to plan. (I refuse to be pregnant with twins. So there.)

I’m giving a lot of thought to the kind of birth experience I’d like this time around. My last one was, well, shall we say, less than awesome. This time I’d like to try for a VBAC without any medication. I figure if I can handle a c-section without an epidural, I can handle natural childbirth, right? I mean, it can’t possibly be THAT painful. I haven’t run this by my OB yet, but I plan to at my next visit. I have a feeling he’s not going to jump on board the VBAC train. Don’t get me wrong, he’s wonderful, but he’s kind of medication-happy. I have a feeling he’ll gently push for a repeat c-section. I’m going to hold my ground and stand firm, though. I’ll assure him that I’ll go for the c-section the minute it looks like there’s any trouble at all, but otherwise, I want as little medical intervention as possible.

I’ve also been ruminating on how different this pregnancy is so far. There is very little Crazy this time. No obsessive googling at all. No thinking and thinking about all the millions of things that could go wrong. I’m just sort of… pregnant. With a toddler to chase around and a household to manage, I don’t really have time to devote to mentally Being Pregnant every minute of the day.

However, there is a downside to being too busy to pay attention to being pregnant; the tiredness. I’m so! tired! all! the! time! I’ve taken a nap every day for the last week or so. I cannot imagine how bad it’s going to be when I’m the size of a hippo running after Maddie at the playground. Also, I’m very stabby. It’s like PMS cranked up to 11. I swear to god, Maddie doesn’t shut up EVER and I’m on the verge of screaming at her to GIVE IT A REST ALREADY, PLEASE! So far, I’ve managed to ask her to hush and give me some quiet time in a very nice tone. I don’t know how long that will last, though. I’m not optimistic.

Care Package Winner!

Random Integer Generator

Here are your random numbers:

16

Timestamp: 2009-09-26 15:14:26 UTC

#16 is Sarah from Semi-Desperate Housewife!

Thank you all for entering and stay tuned because there’ll be more care packages coming!

Someday

It’s been over four years since my mother died and every now and then something will trigger a memory and all of the sudden, the pain bursts in and floods my heart and mind. For a while, I’m right back in that terrible moment when I had to turn over the urn to be interred and my mommy was gone from my care. Forever. The pain and sense of loss are overwhelming. I used to fight against it, but learned that it’s worse that way. Now, when it happens, I just let it. I remember, I cry, I feel.

Mostly I can remember the good times. Mostly I can talk about her without crying. Even talk about her dying and death without crying. But not always.

I’ve met a few other people who have just lost, or are in the process of losing, a parent and they always ask me if it ever stops hurting. I see their shining eyes and clenched jaws and I want to tell them that yes, it stops hurting. I want to give them hope that one day it will be all better. But I don’t. I tell them the truth; which is this:

No, it never stops hurting. There will always be a hole in your heart where your mom/dad used to be. Right now, that hole is raw and bleeding and the most painful thing you can imagine. That hole will always be there, but it won’t always be raw. It will heal and you’ll be all right. You’ll never be same as you were before their death, but you’ll be all right.

I’ll be all right.

Someday.

Care Package Time!

It’s time for a Care Package, don’t you agree? Because who doesn’t love packages full of fun things?

Leave a comment and make sure I have a way to contact you, please. I’ll randomly draw a name and send you your very own customized All Dressed Up Care Package.

Comments open until Friday @ midnight CDST.

Also, only US/APO/FPO addresses, please. Foreign shipping rates are just too damn expensive, yo.

Operation: Second Kid is now officially Operation: Second Pregnancy

I’m knocked up, yo.

I’m going to the OB tomorrow for another blood draw to check progesterone and hCG levels. Then I’ll go back 48 hours later for a repeat to check and see if the hCG is rising as it’s supposed to.

We’ve told the family and close friends, and now I get to tell you! I find myself thinking of SDH and her husband and wondering if I’d be able to handle that situation with as much grace as she did. (The answer is categorically NO, fyi. She is a very strong and courageous woman, that Sarah.) I know that the little pink line doesn’t necessarily mean that I’ll be holding a new baby next spring and I’m trying to not get too ahead of myself, but who are we kidding? I’m ahead of myself 100% of the time, right?

I’m not the kind of woman who’ll keep the pregnancy to myself until after the first trimester for fear of having to tell people about a miscarriage. Just as I shared the journey of getting pregnant with you, so would I need your encouragement and support if I were to lose this baby. That’s what’s so wonderful about my “blogging tribe;” you’re there to celebrate and to console.

A letter to my daughter

Maddie,

Today, as I watched you play at the playground, I was struck by how fearless you are. You ran up to another kid and immediately said, “Hello! How are you?” You had no concept of the fact that she was a stranger or that she might not be interested in playing with you. All kids are referred to as your “friends.” I love that you’re eager to meet other children and befriend them. You never comment on, or even notice, other children’s skin color, age, sex or abilities. To you, they’re all friends and you love nothing more than to play with them.

My heart is already breaking for the day when another child tells you that they don’t want to play with you. Or ignores you. Or is mean to you. You are so trusting and loving and open-hearted and I will be absolutely crushed when those wonderful traits are tested by the mean people out in the world. I want to shelter you from that pain with every fiber of my being, and yet I won’t. Unfortunately, it’s something you’re going to have to deal with and better sooner than later.

Maddie, I don’t tell you often enough how wonderful you are. You are so smart, and strong, and beautiful and I am so proud of you. I cannot wait to see how much smarter, stronger and more beautiful you become as you grow. I’m honored to be your mama and nothing you do will ever change that, baby. You are my pigeon, my robomot, my kitty kitten, my wild thing, my scary monster and my stinky pete. And you are my favorite girl in all the world.

I love you,
Mama

Fun Fact Friday

* My daughter has fallen in love with two new things this week. The movie Labyrinth and Clifford the Big Red Dog. Interesting trivia: In the end credits of Labyrinth, Jim Henson thanks Maurice Sendak, the author of Where the Wild Things Are, for inspiring the goblin muppets. For those of you playing along at home, Wild Things was Maddie’s most recent obsession before Labyrinth and Clifford. I’m pretty sure that’s 6 degrees of Maurice Sendak right there, yo.

* Also, Maddie calls him “Flifford.” Couldn’t you just die???

* I had to download the song “Magic Dance” from the Labyrinth soundtrack for non-stop playing in the car. Also, I have to sing it EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. If I dare to stop, Maddie shouts, “SING, MAMA!”

* I got myself some new jammies at Target yesterday in a size medium. MEDIUM, people. There is no way you can comprehend what that means to me. I still pick up clothes in the store and look at them thinking “There is no way in hell this is going to fit me. Look how effing small it is!” And lo and behold, that shit FITS. I’m like some kind of skinny girl or something. Oddly enough, I seem to still be fat on the inside.

* Things are going well at The Restaurant. My GM has started giving me managerial duties and pretty soon I’ll be starting official manager training. I don’t really want to be a manager, per say, but it sure pays better than waiting tables. The town in which I work is filled with people that believe 10% is more than adequate for a tip. Even when the check is $50, $60 or $70. Cheap-ass bastards.

* Gerald and I are watching Merlin, a new BBC show. They play fast and loose with the Arthurian Legend, but it’s rilly rilly good, yo.

* I tried to like The Tudors, but just couldn’t get into it.

* This is a link-heavy post, isn’t it?

* I snuck one last pregnancy test from the stash before I gave them to Gerald last night. It was negative.

Attempt the Second

I had an appointment with my OB, Dr. G, today. I had an exam and blood drawn. Dr. G says that it looks like I ovulated this month, which is good considering all the pain in my nether regions right around ovulation time. The results of the blood test will show my progesterone level which will indicate whether or not I truly did ovulate.

Dr. G said based on my exam that he wouldn’t be surprised if I was pregnant. Pshaw, I say. I’m pretty sure I’m not. My face is broken out like I’m 13 again, my boobs are killing me and I hate EVERYONE. Seems like a pretty strong argument for PMS to me. But what do I know?

Teh Crazy was consuming me, so I turned over all of my pregnancy tests to Gerald. I’m just going to wait and see what happens in the next week instead of testing twice a day and scrutinizing the strip for any sign of a speck of pink in the result line. I may have even busted out a magnifying glass. Hey, I told you I was Crazy.

WORRIED

Maddie has been officially diagnosed with a Congenital Hairy Nevus. The nevus is on her left shoulder blade and is about two inches by one inch. It’s not a big deal, in and of itself, and can easily be surgically excised.

HOWEVER

Sometimes nevi can be malignant. It’s not common, but when a doctor uses the words “malignant melanoma” and your child’s name in the same sentence, the mom brain immediately hears “OMG There’s cancer on my baby!!!!!!” I keep telling myself that it’s nothing. The pediatric dermatologist is just going to remove it and then DONE and DONE. But then I realize that she’s going to have to be put under general anesthetic and then someone is going to CUT MY BABY and I get panicky again. And then there’s the guilt about the time(s) I may have let her go outside with bare shoulders and NO SUNBLOCK. I gave my daughter cancer! And there will be cutting! And IT’S ALL MY FAULT.

Yes, I think in all caps an awful lot.

The good news is that now I have something else to focus my attention on over the next few weeks instead of letting Teh Crazy run rampant as I wait to see if this month’s O: SK endeavors will result in an actual SK. See? There’s always a bright side.