There is just something about a new hair cut that makes me feel better. It makes me feel skinnier and prettier and just BETTER.
She didn't do much, just chopped a few inches off and showed me how to get my curls to stay curls rather then a big ball of frizz. Will I be able to replicate this on my own tomorrow morning? Probably not, but tonight...tonight I feel HOT!
It's nice to feel good, really good. It's been a shitty two weeks....BUT...in two more weeks I'll be sitting on the beach with an umbrella drink with no husband, no kid, just the girls...with nothing to worry about other then running out of liquor.
yes...things are looking up...today is a good day.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Saturday, September 8, 2007
I'm the big brother
Warning: this is going to be long, you may want to get a snack and a beverage if you plan on reading the whole thing. This is the longest week of my life recapped, for whomever is bored enough to read.
Back story: we have been trying for 4 months to have our second child. It took us 4.5 years to be ready mentally and financially...so while 4 months doesn't seem that long, it is forever when you have been talking about it and WANTING to start trying for the past two years, but not being able to because your husband loses his job, you get denied for the home loan you thought was in the bag, your husband gets another job only to lose that one b/c of a background check that goes back 15 years, your house gets broken in to, and a series of other unfortunate events. Another story for another blog.
August 26th:
It's 7:45 in the evening, I simply MUST go to the store to buy a pregnancy test. Thought AF showed up on the Wednesday before, but she scurried away without much fuss in about a day and a half/2 days. She's officially late, first day of last period was July 5th, I've taken 3 tests before this, all negative.
I know I should wait...first morning urine and all that...but I can't. I test.
What? Is that a line? Hun, really, that is a line? Yep, it's definitely without a doubt a line. OMG! I'm giddy, I'm excited, I'm ecstatic. The hubby is thinking that it's funny we just got one to poop in the potty and into preschool and now it's time to start all over. He was happy though, I swear.
I can't wait to tell everyone, I call my best friend and tell her. She's SO excited. We talk about going yard sale-ing.
Hubby and I have amazing "I got knocked up" bootie. Why is that important? It's not, but my message board girls would appreciate it. :)
August 27th:
Drop the little man off for his first day of preschool, he's so darn cute!!
Mommy holds it together, only a few tears were shed in the car. Little man is excited but doesn't understand why he doesn't get to ride a bus to school.
I can't concentrate on work, I'm too giddy. I haven't told my mom yet so I don't want to tell anyone until I tell her.
I make my first appointment with the Doctor. Sept 5th, 11:20AM.
I leave early, grab Little Man from school and head out on a mission. I want a T-shirt that says "I'm The Big Brother" I'm thinking this is the perfect way to tell my parents. After trying 4 different vendors, no luck. Time for plan B, I find a book. It's all about being a big brother. Perfect! We head to my parents house, they're excited and confused. My dad doesn't get it at first, thinks it's just a book from preschool. Men can be pretty dense.
We didn't tell them we were trying or even thinking about trying. Little man doesn't understand what is going on, I figure it was too soon to try and explain. We head home.
I go to the bathroom and notice red...blood...when I wipe. I'm not overly paranoid, I think it's not big deal. Spotting is normal early on in pregnancy. By 10:30 that night, it's worse. I call the helpline for my doc. When he calls, he says it doesn't sound like I need to go to the ER but I should call in the AM and come in.
August 28th:
Still bleeding, more then I should be if it were just spotting. Hubby goes to work and meets me at the Dr. I call off work but don't explain why. My uterus is measuring 8 weeks, they want to check with an ultrasound but I have to come back later. I go home and try to nap. I'm scared and I'm sad and I'm totally freaked out by this point.
Internal ultrasound...strange, let me tell ya. If you think your annual exam is uncomfortable, this is less painful but way more strange. They hand me this long tubular looking thing and tell me to insert it like a tampon...yea, a tampon the size of my vibrator! I felt like there should have been foreplay involved or something!
We're looking at this black screen while she moves it around and asks me to move to the left or the right. She doesn't say anything, I don't ask b/c honestly, I don't want to hear the answer. I just want her to say 'oh, there's baby, everything is fine.' She doesn't. We're asked to sit and wait for the doctor.
Nurse comes out, says she spoke with the doctor and from the looks of it, it's a miscarriage in process but she wants to talk to us. The ultrasound showed nothing...no sac, no baby, no blob, nada. She shows us to a room to wait for the doctor. I cry, Hubby tries to be reassuring, tries to make me feel better. I cry more b/c he's being so sweet.
Dr. comes in, she says it may be a miscarriage or it may just be a really early pregnancy. They want to do blood work to follow HCG levels. Great, I love needles/sarcasm. If the levels double, I'm still knocked up. If the fall, I've miscarried.
I go home...and sleep...and sleep.
August 29th:
Hubby has to go out of town for work, he'll be gone until Friday. He can't not go, so I'm at home trying to deal...alone. He takes Little Man to preschool in the morning, I stay in bed. I finally call my mom to tell her what's going on. She gives me her sympathy. I ask her if she and my brother will pick Little Man up and keep him tonight. I just can't deal.
My hormones are completely out of whack. Everything makes me cry, I'm on edge and can barely stand to be around myself. I'm a wreck. Kind of hard to explain that to a 4 year old.
Around 4:30 that afternoon my brother shows up with Little Man. My mom fell at the school, missed a step and splat! Greeeaaat. Could this get any better? She knocked herself out and they called an ambulance. She's in the ER. Fan-fucking-tastic. My brother takes Little Man home with him, my best friend brings me dinner, we watch TV...I don't cry, I don't talk about it.
She leaves and I crawl into bed and cry. I try calling Hubby again, he's already asleep. Eventually, I fall asleep.
August 30th:
I pick Little Man up from my parents house. My brother was going to take him to school but I didn't want a scene. My brother is a scene maker and I like this school so I'd like to avoid that if possible. Plus, I need to get my ass out of bed.
The admitted my mom to the hospital, they want to run tests. At this point we don't think anything is broken but instead of saying she missed the step and fell, she tells them everything went black and then she woke up in the ER. Yea, she's got a flare for the dramatic. They want to do a CAT scan, MRI, blood work...the whole shebang.
I go back to the Dr to have more blood drawn to check the levels. I'm still bleeding bright red. I called to ask if I still had to come in since it was obviously a miscarriage. Yes, I still have to go. Levels have to be below 5.
I declined offers to go with me, it was just blood work, no big deal...and it really wasn't a big deal. The hardest part was sitting in the waiting room....watching one couple leave with their ultrasound pictures, another couple with a brand new baby in a carrier. I couldn't cry right there, in front of all those people. I didn't want to be 'that girl'. Instead I blinked back my tears and waited for them to call my name. It was the longest 15 mins of my life. I waited until I got back out to my car to cry....where noone would see.
I manage a trip to walmart for a few necessities.
By this point people at work know what is going on, I made Hubby tell my boss/his friend/our landlord...the list goes on. I do manage to get into work to write checks, that's progress.
I cry, a lot. Everytime I have to pee actually, which seems to be all.the.time!
I manage to get through the night, Little Man and me.
August 31st:
I go to work, a little late, but I go. I'm okay, I'm making my way through the day. Everyone is being super nice and supportive. A little too supportive.
For some reason everyone felt the need to tell me their miscarriage stories...except I work with 90% men. It's kind of hard for them to understand...it's even hard for Hubby to understand. Yes, he's sad...but he wasn't 'attached' yet. I was...the second that line showed up, I was attached. I started making plans in my head, started making mental lists of things I'm not supposed to eat and estimating my due date to figure out what clothes I should start stocking up on. I checked baby name websites...yes, all this in those 2 days before the miscarriage was official, well official to me anyway.
Anyway, it's hard to hear these guys talk about so and so that they knew who had 3 miscarriages and it's normal blah blah blah. Yes, that very well may be, but it doesn't make me want to cry any less.
The Dr office calls, the levels dropped, it's 'officially' a miscarriage. I knew this, in my head, I knew this...but hearing it come from their mouths was completely different. I still had to go in for more bloodwork b/c the levels weren't below 5 yet. splendid...more needles and I don't even have a baby to show for it in the end. I talked to Hubby right after, I cried. I couldn't wait for him to get home. I just wanted him here, not 4 hours away.
Everyone says it's not my fault, these things happen, it's natural...on and on and on. Okay fine, it's not my fault, there's nothing I could have done...so who do I get to blame? It would be easier if I could blame someone.
I don't want to hear it happened for a reason...if that's true could someone please tell me what reason that is?! Someone? Anyone?
September 1st - 3rd:
The holiday weekend was really just one big blur of trips to the hospital, sleeping, and trying to be normal. Mom was still there, I could go on and on about the terrible hospital service but I will save that for another blog. Regardless, I do what I can to keep her happy and upbeat, all the while keeping my mind off the fact that I lost a baby.
Lost a baby...such a strange term, like I misplaced it at the grocery store or something...like I'll be able to find it again. It's not lost really...I'm not going to find it, there is no lost and found for babies that were less then 8 weeks old inside your belly.
Now, today is the 8th and the days between the 3rd and now really aren't very exciting. I went back to work, hung out with Little Man and Hubby, talked to a few friends. Only 3 of my friends know what happened. 2 of my best friends and one of the girls I work with....some of the guys at work know, my parents and anyone they told, but that's it.
I can't bring myself to talk out loud about it. I can write about it, all my online friends know what happened. When I get on the phone and start to bring it up, my stomaches turns into knots and I can't do it.
I'm tired, all the time. I never feel like I get enough sleep. My hormones are getting back under control, I don't cry at every little thing and I don't snap for no reason. Hubby and LM are extremely grateful for that.
I went back to have more blood taken on Thursday, I call on Monday to see if the levels are below 5. Then I set up an appointment to make sure all is well and find out if in reality, it really wasn't my fault. I hope it wasn't.
I want to be pregnant again...now....
Back story: we have been trying for 4 months to have our second child. It took us 4.5 years to be ready mentally and financially...so while 4 months doesn't seem that long, it is forever when you have been talking about it and WANTING to start trying for the past two years, but not being able to because your husband loses his job, you get denied for the home loan you thought was in the bag, your husband gets another job only to lose that one b/c of a background check that goes back 15 years, your house gets broken in to, and a series of other unfortunate events. Another story for another blog.
August 26th:
It's 7:45 in the evening, I simply MUST go to the store to buy a pregnancy test. Thought AF showed up on the Wednesday before, but she scurried away without much fuss in about a day and a half/2 days. She's officially late, first day of last period was July 5th, I've taken 3 tests before this, all negative.
I know I should wait...first morning urine and all that...but I can't. I test.
What? Is that a line? Hun, really, that is a line? Yep, it's definitely without a doubt a line. OMG! I'm giddy, I'm excited, I'm ecstatic. The hubby is thinking that it's funny we just got one to poop in the potty and into preschool and now it's time to start all over. He was happy though, I swear.
I can't wait to tell everyone, I call my best friend and tell her. She's SO excited. We talk about going yard sale-ing.
Hubby and I have amazing "I got knocked up" bootie. Why is that important? It's not, but my message board girls would appreciate it. :)
August 27th:
Drop the little man off for his first day of preschool, he's so darn cute!!
Mommy holds it together, only a few tears were shed in the car. Little man is excited but doesn't understand why he doesn't get to ride a bus to school.
I can't concentrate on work, I'm too giddy. I haven't told my mom yet so I don't want to tell anyone until I tell her.
I make my first appointment with the Doctor. Sept 5th, 11:20AM.
I leave early, grab Little Man from school and head out on a mission. I want a T-shirt that says "I'm The Big Brother" I'm thinking this is the perfect way to tell my parents. After trying 4 different vendors, no luck. Time for plan B, I find a book. It's all about being a big brother. Perfect! We head to my parents house, they're excited and confused. My dad doesn't get it at first, thinks it's just a book from preschool. Men can be pretty dense.
We didn't tell them we were trying or even thinking about trying. Little man doesn't understand what is going on, I figure it was too soon to try and explain. We head home.
I go to the bathroom and notice red...blood...when I wipe. I'm not overly paranoid, I think it's not big deal. Spotting is normal early on in pregnancy. By 10:30 that night, it's worse. I call the helpline for my doc. When he calls, he says it doesn't sound like I need to go to the ER but I should call in the AM and come in.
August 28th:
Still bleeding, more then I should be if it were just spotting. Hubby goes to work and meets me at the Dr. I call off work but don't explain why. My uterus is measuring 8 weeks, they want to check with an ultrasound but I have to come back later. I go home and try to nap. I'm scared and I'm sad and I'm totally freaked out by this point.
Internal ultrasound...strange, let me tell ya. If you think your annual exam is uncomfortable, this is less painful but way more strange. They hand me this long tubular looking thing and tell me to insert it like a tampon...yea, a tampon the size of my vibrator! I felt like there should have been foreplay involved or something!
We're looking at this black screen while she moves it around and asks me to move to the left or the right. She doesn't say anything, I don't ask b/c honestly, I don't want to hear the answer. I just want her to say 'oh, there's baby, everything is fine.' She doesn't. We're asked to sit and wait for the doctor.
Nurse comes out, says she spoke with the doctor and from the looks of it, it's a miscarriage in process but she wants to talk to us. The ultrasound showed nothing...no sac, no baby, no blob, nada. She shows us to a room to wait for the doctor. I cry, Hubby tries to be reassuring, tries to make me feel better. I cry more b/c he's being so sweet.
Dr. comes in, she says it may be a miscarriage or it may just be a really early pregnancy. They want to do blood work to follow HCG levels. Great, I love needles/sarcasm. If the levels double, I'm still knocked up. If the fall, I've miscarried.
I go home...and sleep...and sleep.
August 29th:
Hubby has to go out of town for work, he'll be gone until Friday. He can't not go, so I'm at home trying to deal...alone. He takes Little Man to preschool in the morning, I stay in bed. I finally call my mom to tell her what's going on. She gives me her sympathy. I ask her if she and my brother will pick Little Man up and keep him tonight. I just can't deal.
My hormones are completely out of whack. Everything makes me cry, I'm on edge and can barely stand to be around myself. I'm a wreck. Kind of hard to explain that to a 4 year old.
Around 4:30 that afternoon my brother shows up with Little Man. My mom fell at the school, missed a step and splat! Greeeaaat. Could this get any better? She knocked herself out and they called an ambulance. She's in the ER. Fan-fucking-tastic. My brother takes Little Man home with him, my best friend brings me dinner, we watch TV...I don't cry, I don't talk about it.
She leaves and I crawl into bed and cry. I try calling Hubby again, he's already asleep. Eventually, I fall asleep.
August 30th:
I pick Little Man up from my parents house. My brother was going to take him to school but I didn't want a scene. My brother is a scene maker and I like this school so I'd like to avoid that if possible. Plus, I need to get my ass out of bed.
The admitted my mom to the hospital, they want to run tests. At this point we don't think anything is broken but instead of saying she missed the step and fell, she tells them everything went black and then she woke up in the ER. Yea, she's got a flare for the dramatic. They want to do a CAT scan, MRI, blood work...the whole shebang.
I go back to the Dr to have more blood drawn to check the levels. I'm still bleeding bright red. I called to ask if I still had to come in since it was obviously a miscarriage. Yes, I still have to go. Levels have to be below 5.
I declined offers to go with me, it was just blood work, no big deal...and it really wasn't a big deal. The hardest part was sitting in the waiting room....watching one couple leave with their ultrasound pictures, another couple with a brand new baby in a carrier. I couldn't cry right there, in front of all those people. I didn't want to be 'that girl'. Instead I blinked back my tears and waited for them to call my name. It was the longest 15 mins of my life. I waited until I got back out to my car to cry....where noone would see.
I manage a trip to walmart for a few necessities.
By this point people at work know what is going on, I made Hubby tell my boss/his friend/our landlord...the list goes on. I do manage to get into work to write checks, that's progress.
I cry, a lot. Everytime I have to pee actually, which seems to be all.the.time!
I manage to get through the night, Little Man and me.
August 31st:
I go to work, a little late, but I go. I'm okay, I'm making my way through the day. Everyone is being super nice and supportive. A little too supportive.
For some reason everyone felt the need to tell me their miscarriage stories...except I work with 90% men. It's kind of hard for them to understand...it's even hard for Hubby to understand. Yes, he's sad...but he wasn't 'attached' yet. I was...the second that line showed up, I was attached. I started making plans in my head, started making mental lists of things I'm not supposed to eat and estimating my due date to figure out what clothes I should start stocking up on. I checked baby name websites...yes, all this in those 2 days before the miscarriage was official, well official to me anyway.
Anyway, it's hard to hear these guys talk about so and so that they knew who had 3 miscarriages and it's normal blah blah blah. Yes, that very well may be, but it doesn't make me want to cry any less.
The Dr office calls, the levels dropped, it's 'officially' a miscarriage. I knew this, in my head, I knew this...but hearing it come from their mouths was completely different. I still had to go in for more bloodwork b/c the levels weren't below 5 yet. splendid...more needles and I don't even have a baby to show for it in the end. I talked to Hubby right after, I cried. I couldn't wait for him to get home. I just wanted him here, not 4 hours away.
Everyone says it's not my fault, these things happen, it's natural...on and on and on. Okay fine, it's not my fault, there's nothing I could have done...so who do I get to blame? It would be easier if I could blame someone.
I don't want to hear it happened for a reason...if that's true could someone please tell me what reason that is?! Someone? Anyone?
September 1st - 3rd:
The holiday weekend was really just one big blur of trips to the hospital, sleeping, and trying to be normal. Mom was still there, I could go on and on about the terrible hospital service but I will save that for another blog. Regardless, I do what I can to keep her happy and upbeat, all the while keeping my mind off the fact that I lost a baby.
Lost a baby...such a strange term, like I misplaced it at the grocery store or something...like I'll be able to find it again. It's not lost really...I'm not going to find it, there is no lost and found for babies that were less then 8 weeks old inside your belly.
Now, today is the 8th and the days between the 3rd and now really aren't very exciting. I went back to work, hung out with Little Man and Hubby, talked to a few friends. Only 3 of my friends know what happened. 2 of my best friends and one of the girls I work with....some of the guys at work know, my parents and anyone they told, but that's it.
I can't bring myself to talk out loud about it. I can write about it, all my online friends know what happened. When I get on the phone and start to bring it up, my stomaches turns into knots and I can't do it.
I'm tired, all the time. I never feel like I get enough sleep. My hormones are getting back under control, I don't cry at every little thing and I don't snap for no reason. Hubby and LM are extremely grateful for that.
I went back to have more blood taken on Thursday, I call on Monday to see if the levels are below 5. Then I set up an appointment to make sure all is well and find out if in reality, it really wasn't my fault. I hope it wasn't.
I want to be pregnant again...now....
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
Topic of my first blog:
BIBLE BANGERS!!
Really, I mean that in the nicest non evil way possible...okay, I lied, maybe I don't. I hate sitting in my nice quiet house, enjoying the last few mins before I have to go pick up my kid, only to hear 'tap tap tap' on the side door...I go to answer thinking it's probably the girl I work with coming over to chat...but no, it's two ladies carrying bibles. They weren't looking when I got to the door (we don't have a curtain) so I quickly turned and walked the other way and back to my computer...yes, I am going straight to hell, in a really ugly hand basket.
I have no problem with religion and people who really enjoy their church and want other people to enjoy their church...but please DO NOT COME TO MY DOOR!! I don't go door to door and try to convince people that spending Sunday morning in church is a waste of time b/c it's the perfect time to catch up on my DVR. I don't try to sell you crap you don't want while you are enjoying your dinner or your quiet afternoon at home. Please, do not interrupt my day for crap I don't need. It's rude, is it God's way to be rude? Is that in that bible of yours?! Plus, since when do we need to SELL religion?
And yes, that is how I see it. I went to church as a kid, my parents made me. I didn't mind it, I did the whole sunday school thing, sang in the choir, went to church camp...do I remember a damn thing? nope. I remember the boys at camp were cute, I remember getting yelled at on Sunday b/c we wanted to sit in the balcony and the old bitties wanted nothing more then to stomp on anything that looked like fun. Anyway, I digress, back to selling religion. I always thought that this was something that just was...not something that you had to advertise with huge billboards and churches the size of my parents neighborhood. Is that necessary? Does God love you more b/c you have a bigger church?
I don't get it.
Come to think of it, if I'm going to hell anyway, I should have had some fun with it and offered those ladies a joint, you know, to take the edge off. They are walking around borderline.ghetto.ville, trying to save all of us sinners and evil doers. I'm sure they could use SOMETHING. hmmm...more to come later on the subject...I don't even have time to get into how many hypocrites claim to be good Christians.
Really, I mean that in the nicest non evil way possible...okay, I lied, maybe I don't. I hate sitting in my nice quiet house, enjoying the last few mins before I have to go pick up my kid, only to hear 'tap tap tap' on the side door...I go to answer thinking it's probably the girl I work with coming over to chat...but no, it's two ladies carrying bibles. They weren't looking when I got to the door (we don't have a curtain) so I quickly turned and walked the other way and back to my computer...yes, I am going straight to hell, in a really ugly hand basket.
I have no problem with religion and people who really enjoy their church and want other people to enjoy their church...but please DO NOT COME TO MY DOOR!! I don't go door to door and try to convince people that spending Sunday morning in church is a waste of time b/c it's the perfect time to catch up on my DVR. I don't try to sell you crap you don't want while you are enjoying your dinner or your quiet afternoon at home. Please, do not interrupt my day for crap I don't need. It's rude, is it God's way to be rude? Is that in that bible of yours?! Plus, since when do we need to SELL religion?
And yes, that is how I see it. I went to church as a kid, my parents made me. I didn't mind it, I did the whole sunday school thing, sang in the choir, went to church camp...do I remember a damn thing? nope. I remember the boys at camp were cute, I remember getting yelled at on Sunday b/c we wanted to sit in the balcony and the old bitties wanted nothing more then to stomp on anything that looked like fun. Anyway, I digress, back to selling religion. I always thought that this was something that just was...not something that you had to advertise with huge billboards and churches the size of my parents neighborhood. Is that necessary? Does God love you more b/c you have a bigger church?
I don't get it.
Come to think of it, if I'm going to hell anyway, I should have had some fun with it and offered those ladies a joint, you know, to take the edge off. They are walking around borderline.ghetto.ville, trying to save all of us sinners and evil doers. I'm sure they could use SOMETHING. hmmm...more to come later on the subject...I don't even have time to get into how many hypocrites claim to be good Christians.
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