Who I Was...Who I Am

When I started this blog after my second miscarriage, I couldn't have been any lower, except later, when I was pregnant and going through a divorce...but I was in a bad place.

Now, three plus years later, I am a divorced mother of two beautiful, healthy children. The divorce could have easily killed me, but I pushed through it for my kids. I hold onto my children a little tighter because of my miscarriages. I knew how precious life is and how easily a tiny baby can be taken away. I look at them and marvel at how they were able to become these precious little miracles in my life.

For anyone reading this who is going through the experience now, I just want to say, "I know." I know you are hurting and I know there is nothing anyone can say to make it better. I can tell you that it gets easier, but that doesn't make you feel any better right now. Just know that people have been where you are and made it through to the other side.

I had a beautiful, healthy, baby boy and I adore him!!!!

I had my six month appointment a couple weeks ago, when I was 25 weeks. Check out his leg...

The sonographer estimated that the little guy was 1 lb. 10 oz, which means he gained 8 oz in two weeks. The doctor said that I had only gained a pound since my last visit and she would normally be concerned about that, but she checked baby and he was measuring at 26-27 weeks. She said, "You are eating aren't you?" I answered affirmatively and she said, "Well, you must be eating healthy." I just laughed since I've been on the Girl Scout cookies and pizza diet.

He's been kicking me a lot, which A enjoys feeling. She loves to put her hands on my stomach and talk to "her baby" and give him kisses everyday. She tells him goodnight and came up with a great name for him (which I will be keeping a surprise). We wrote a countdown on her calendar so that she knows how many days are left before he comes home. She is pretty impatient, but I love that she is so excited and so involved. I would have thought that she would have forgotten about him or become disinterested by now, but she literally talks about him all the time. She includes him in conversations and asks me what he thinks and plans what she's going to help with and what she's going to teach him.

Anyway....I've had a cold for the past two weeks that I can't get over and am completely miserable. Which is why I'm up at 4 am...again...because I can't breathe and can only sleep for an hour at a time before I have to get up to hack up pieces of my lung. I remember having a cold for the entire last trimester with A. That better not be a pattern.

The issue of whether or not we can keep the house is still being debated, but I'm getting down to the wire so I need to start working on the nursery while I still have energy. We'll see how that goes.

This is part of the development sheet from the Munchkin's 4 year check up. Some of her answers to the questions cracked me up. What is a ceiling? "It is up there with the lights." She was supposed to draw a person and she did, complete with a baby in its tummy. She had her Tinkerbell party and it was lots of fun.

So, I started a job at the beginning of the month. The people I work with are super nice.

I'm 24 weeks now. I had my 5 month appt in December and there wasn't much to report. I'll start having monthly sonograms now and then at 32 weeks, I'll start the non-stress tests, whatever those are. I've only gained a pound in 2 months, so I guess that shows that stress is good for weight management. I'd probably gained 20 pounds by this point with the Munchkin. I can't actually take the medicine that they prescribed to stop my contractions because it put me right to sleep and left me completely groggy the entire next day. I tried to explain to my doctor that since I have a 4 year old to take care of by myself, that just isn't an option. So, I've just been dealing with the contractions and they haven't been too bad.

...until Wednesday night. I had a 2D ultrasound at the perinatologist that day. The little guy weighs 1 lb, 2 oz and I got to see him yawn.

I felt kind of strange that afternoon, but I wasn't really sure what was wrong. I ate a little dinner, but I was having contractions and just didn't feel right. Around 7 pm, I started having painful ones. I was actually crying at one point. My husband was here when they started (they seem to happen more frequently when he is around), but he had dinner plans (no comment), so he left and my mom came over to be with me. The painful ones were coming every 10 minutes, so I called the doctor on call. She said to go to the ER, of course, because that's always what they say. So, my sister came over to watch the Munchkin and my mom drove me to the hospital.

Because I'm over 20 weeks, they took me directly up to the Labor/Delivery Ward. They hooked me up to a fetal monitor and all that fun jazz. I threw up a few times and the contractions stopped. My back was killing me and I suddenly just felt sick all over.

I was dehydrated, so they stuck an IV in me and gave me some juice and an anti-nausea medicine. The nurse finally decided that I just had a stomach bug. She said the contractions were probably just stress and the back pain was likely from a little fall I had on the stairs a few days before. I slept most of the next day and felt much better on Friday. I did ask my husband to take the Munchkin to daycare and pick her up, so I really appreciate him doing that.

I don't know what the deal was with those contractions, but I hope they don't come back because that was not cool. The baby moves around a LOT. I remember being so awed by the movement with the Munchkin. It is a lot less magical this time around, as this whole experience is, given the circumstances. He is making things very uncomfortable for me. All that energy I had a couple weeks ago is suddenly gone. My hips kill me at night, so I switch sides every hour, at least. The acid reflux was bad in my last trimester with the Munchkin, but it started early with this one. Doesn't matter what I eat or when I eat it...I'm going to suffer. It is especially bad with chocolate, though. :(

The Munchkin does love talking about the baby and feeling the baby kick and coming up with names for the baby. She is the only one excited, it seems, but I do love that she is. She kisses him goodnight and "tickles" him and talks to him. And she tells everyone she sees about her baby brother. It is pretty adorable.

I'm pretty worried about her, though. I thought things would get easier for her, but they really haven't. She's always been such a great sleeper. She stayed in her bed pretty well and once she was asleep, you didn't hear from her until you wake her up. When her dad moved out, she asked if she could sleep with me and she has been ever since. The two nights when I was sick, I told her she needed to sleep in her own bed so that she didn't get my germs. Both nights, she woke up in the middle of the night crying and she had wet the bed. She said she had nightmares about her family disappearing.

In the class for divorcing parents that the county made me take, they mentioned that young children would be worried about the parent they live with leaving too. That makes me so sad that she thinks I might leave her. It breaks my heart. I try to reassure her constantly that I will always be here.

Her first week back at preschool went well and the teacher was very impressed with her. But, then the next week she told a kid that she was going to kill them, got caught dumping a bunch of toilet paper in the toilet for fun and hit a kid with a block. She throws insane tantrums now where she screams as loud as she can and throws things. I sense a lot of anger in her and I don't blame her one bit.

At her 4 year check up, her usually reserved doctor was downright chatty with me, expressing sympathy over the situation and offering any help. She suggested that I take her to a therapist. How sad is that? My 4 year old is going to have a therapist. Ugh.

Had a trip to the ER tonight. The cramps got up to one every minute at one point, so the nurse had me go in. So, at 19 weeks I'm already having Braxton-Hicks contractions. I guess my uterus is practicing for the Big Dance. They gave me a prescription to stop them and told me to drink 100 oz of water a day. Is that even possible?! I'm supposed to relax and check in with my nurse tomorrow.

The baby is too small to hook up to a fetal monitor, but it had a strong heartbeat. He sure was kicking a lot. The doctor was warning me about pre-term labor and how the baby isn't "viable" enough for delivery yet. She was preaching to me about relaxing and the harmful effects of stress. I was all, "Lady, I am totally chill. I got no worries." I will totally relax right after I clean up the dinner dishes, put away the laundry that's on the bed, take out the trash, wrangle the kid into her jammies, brush her teeth and put her back to bed 15 times. Then, I will totally put my feet up.

My after-care instructions actually said, "Don't lift anything; have someone else take care of household chores and cook for you." I had to laugh. I'm such a martyr, right?

I just want to say "thank you" to everyone that is offering assistance and kind thoughts. Seriously, I can't tell you how much it means to me. Unfortunately, I have no positive news to report on the home front...he just doesn't want to come back.

I've been desperately searching for a job and I have a couple options, neither of them what I was hoping for. I could take one job that pays barely over minimum wage and an unpredictable schedule, but has health care benefits and the possibility of promotion. Or, I could take another job that pays several dollars an hour more (still far less than my previous job), but does not have benefits (which I will need) and has no possibility of promotion, but would be working for a very nice lady that is sympathetic to my situation. Both jobs require a lot of time on my feet and daily lifting of large boxes, so that should be exciting.

By the time I pay for child care, I will be bringing home practically nothing. I applied for discounted child care, which I may qualify for, but only if I take the lower paying job...the one that would make child care difficult by its ever-changing schedule. With the temporary child support/spousal support I'm getting, I don't qualify for food assistance. Neither of these jobs will pay the bills that will allow me to keep the house or the minivan. Since I'm pretty sure I owe more on both those loans than they are worth, I'm not sure where that leaves me. Oh, I know...completely stressed out.

I've been able to disguise my belly pretty well until last week. All of sudden, it was just OUT there. I'd felt a couple flutters here and there, but I was too busy to really pay much attention. Friday night, he felt the need to really make his presence felt, by hosting a rave at 11 pm. It actually felt kind of frantic, which freaked me out, but it calmed down after about 30 minutes. I've definitely been able to identify his movements since then. However, Saturday, I started having tightening that felt like the Braxton Hicks contractions that I had with the Munchkin. Obviously, it is way too early for that to be normal, so when they didn't go away, I called the doctor Sunday night. I drank a TON of water, as directed, but they've still been happening. On Monday, the nurse reiterated that I need to be drinking at least 64 oz of water a day or I'll get dehydrated. I had no problem doing that at my desk job with Munchkin, but I'm kind of busy right now, so I haven't spent much time thinking about my water intake. My aunt told me that she went into premature labor when she got dehydrated, so I made sure to drink it today, but I still have the cramping, so I don't know what the problem is.

I keep thinking of that scene in "Reality Bites" where the newspaper editor asks Wynona Ryder's character to define "irony". We tried unsuccessfully for a year and a half to have a healthy pregnancy. I have one now, but I'm so busy being a single parent that I can't enjoy it. In fact, can barely think about it. That's irony.

Since I've announced the gender of the baby, I've been getting a lot of questions. I don't mind the questions at all, but the answers make me sad.

FAQ:

1. Do you have a name picked out?----No. I'm still thinking about using Isabella. The Munchkin likes Herman and Santa Baby.

2. Are you registered?----No. I don't even remember what a baby needs. With the Munchkin, we had the nursery oufitted and ready by month 3. I had every intention of having the nursery ready by now, but as previously discussed, there are more pressing issues, like where we will be living. All the baby clothes I have are pink and I'm totally okay with him wearing that. It will give him something to talk about in therapy when he's older.

3. Do you need anything?---Yes. A good paying job with benefits that will allow me to sit during my high-risk pregnancy. Affordable child care at a quality, licensed facility center. A miracle that will allow me to raise my children in this house. An angel that will magically save me from the insanity that will likely ensue when the newborn is screaming for no reason at 3 am and I am so tired that I don't know my name and my 4 year old can't sleep through the racket and I have to get up in 2 hours to get them dressed and ready for work. Because how am I going to be able to afford to take any maternity leave?!

Sorry...I'm having a pity party. I try to think about how much worse it could be, but I don't get very far sometimes.

Boy, oh Boy

Baby is 17 weeks today...My appointment on Monday went fine. I heard the heartbeat, which sounded very strong. Today, I had a Level 2 sonogram at the perinatologist. Baby looks great, right on schedule, weighs 6 oz. and...IT'S A BOY!!! (I have no clue what to do with a boy.)

So, my husband came by last night. We were able to talk about some next steps and we didn't even argue. It was nice to have normal-ish conversations about family and such.

I invited him to come to today's sonogram. I brought the Munchkin, as well, so she was excited to "see" the baby. He was absolutely thrilled to find out that it was a boy. It was nice to share a happy moment as a family. I asked (again) if he would come home and work things out. I told him that I missed him and he said that he missed me, too, but he just wasn't sure about coming back.

And so, here is my public plea to him...PLEASE come home. I know we can fix this. I am completely committed to doing everything I can to save this marriage. Come be a part of a lovely family of four. Without your constant supervision, this baby may end up wearing pink tutus and carrying sparkly wands. Please, please, please come home. We miss you.