We're all FINE

My mom. She is too much sometimes. She was admitted to the hospital today for chest pains and will have a heart cath tomorrow morning. She's "FINE!" She ate dinner before she called me. And she wanted to know how WE'RE doing. Uh...nobody here is in the hospital, so we're doing FINE, mom. But I guess we have a LITTLE higher standard than you.

Fine! Really?!?!

LOL!

Love you!

Second (& third) child syndrome

I don't remember when I first felt Myles move in my belly. I even looked in the archives of this blog to see if I'd even made a notation...and I can't find one. I realize I've taken about 1/2 as many photos of him as I did his brother (though I have to say the quality is SO much better). Poor kid's baby book...well...at least I bought one (on the way to the hospital), right?

So in an effort to be a better record-keeper, and in an effort to NOT freak out again like I did last week, I'm recording in this space that I felt the baby move yesterday...a lot. I've felt my own body's reaction to what must be movement for the last week or so. But this was the first time I thought, "THAT was baby."

Of course today is a whole other story. I THINK I've felt Little Bug a time or two...but it's definitaly not like it was yesterday (not freaking out, not freaking out, not freaking out).

Maybe I'll work on Myles' baby book today.

***I don't know when I first felt Alex or Travis move either...but I try not to compare those pregnancies. Living baby to living baby are the only comparisons I feel comfortable with. I KNOW it's irrational...but there ya have it.***

And so it begins...

He's SEVEN. I am going to be in trouble when he's a teenager.

Lazy weekend

We decided to take it easy this weekend...after the insanity of sewing a groundhog puppet on Thursday evening (which, by the way, did very well in class thank you very much...two points to ME). Our big outing was Saturday when we went to Erie with the specific purpose of visiting Wegman's grocery store so that I could get veggie spring roll (I also got this really yummy butternut squash and spinach salad that I may try to replicate in my own kitchen). Sam was happy because we took him to Game Stop and let him get a new Star Wars DSi game. Myles was happy because we bought him a big box of diapers (we REALLY need to start seriously working on the potty-training thing).

OK...so you're thinking, "This is the most boring blog post EVER." But...

Look what else I bought...

Yes...it seems my emotional pendulum swings pretty far both directions these days. Don't question the insanity.

The creation of a groundhog

An actual groundhog...

Our "artistic interpretation" of a groundhog...
It really needed a longer snout, but our limited sewing skills caused us to hesitate in even attempting it.
(I think he likes it.)

So...time to move?

Northern Ohio is a pretty miserable place to live.

At least according to Forbes.com.

The Web site today released its third annual list of ''America's Most Miserable Cities.''

Cleveland topped the rankings, and four other Ohio cities made the list: Canton, ninth; Akron, 12th; Toledo, 15th; and Youngstown, 18th.

Forbes.com based the rankings on its ''Misery Measure,'' which analyzed unemployment rates, taxes, commute times, violent crime, weather, Superfund pollution sites, public corruption and how pro sports teams have fared over the past two years.

Ohio.com article

Forbes.com article

The surreal life

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So today is the day of embarrassment. The day when I realize how out of control I really was. I'm not THAT woman. I don't get irrational or lose control like that. How in the world am I going to look my doctor in the face at my next appointment (which will be in TWO weeks, come hell or high water)?

I seem to not have mentioned that I did all of my freaking out without telling my husband...because he had a job interview and I didn't want to ruin it.

Yeah.

I KNOW.

Insanity apparently came knocking and I invited her in for tea.
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In other "how surreal is your life" news...I will be spending this afternoon/evening with Samuel...sewing a groundhog hand puppet. Here's hoping we both make it out alive. Pictures WILL follow.

And no, I am NOT joking. The teacher thought it would be a good idea for the kids to do "creative art projects" to go with their ten-sentence groundhog research papers. A classmate, E, brought in a cake with (rice krispie) groundhogs popping out of burrows on top (complete with green coconut for the surrounding grass). When I asked Sam how much of that cake he honestly though E did, he replied, "Zero percent." Imagine his surprise when I told him that the groundhog puppet will be HIS project, one hundred percent...I have enough of my own stuff to do. Poor kid of mine.
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I'm normal

First...so as not to bury the lead...Little Bug is still alive.

The nurse said I can come in every week if need be...at which time I sobbed.

I had what was possibly the longest cant-find-the-heartbeat-with-the-damn-doppler session EVER...during which I cried but did not sob.

Waited what-seemed-like-forever-but-was-really-two-minutes for Dr. A to come do an ultrsound...sobbed again when asked how I was doing.

Took a little too long to find the little booger with the ultrasound (I couldn't look at first)...but s/he was there...heart beating away. Dr. A used the u/s doppler so I could hear it...just to reassure me that it was really there and doing ok.

I must have apologized 20 times. He said it was ok...I can come in every week if I have to. He said that in most normal pregnancies, there is a honeymoon period where you don't "feel pregnant." We had a sick laugh at that. Normal. Me? Well I guess there is a first time for everything, huh?

And then I was that woman again...walking through the waiting room with red rimmed eyes. But this time it was all ok.

How did I become this person? Never mind...I know how it happened. Giant mindfuck is the PERFECT description. Maybe I should add that as a label for these types of crazy blog posts.

Thanks

I sit here in the parking garage...contemplating the possible ways this could turn out.

"Go to the doctor."

It's just not that easy.

Giving in to madness won't provide me any lasting answers...only feed into more madness. Yes, I'll know if baby is still alive at that moment in the doctor's office...but that means NOTHING to me. I had an ultrasound only a few days before Travis died. There he was...all wiggly and cute. Four days later...dead. Short of bringing an ultrasound machine home, I'm not going to feel as though I have any "answers" (I wish I were friends with Tom Cruise right about now).

And it doesn't matter really. If it's dead, it's dead. If it's not...well...yay! That doesn't mean it won't be dead tomorrow...or the next day...or the day after that. My going to my doctor for constant (false) reassurance isn't going to make it any better. It can't change what's going to happen at this stage. Maybe later...if/when viability is an issue...but it will accomplish nothing right now. So I'm choosing to try the Zen approach (which isn't really working all that well, in case you hadn't figured that out). If I weren't pregnant, I'd drink. Ha! Maybe that should be my reason to call the doctor! The possibility of wine if it all goes to shit!

It's a bit like watching a train versus car accident unfold in front of you, isn't it? There is absolutely NOTHING you can do but stare in horror and hope the car moves out of the way in time. Maybe it'll make it...maybe it won't.

"This is one of those times where sitting on the porch together in Niagara would be so great." Indeed.

*deep breath*

Crafty people...help?

Add another thing to the list of things I just LOVE about second grade.

I need an easy pattern for Sam to make a stuffed groundhog by Friday.

Any ideas?

Dead Baby Thoughts - real and ugly

In the darkness of the middle of the night I wonder how I will break their hearts...again. Will they still love me? Will they even see me anymore? or will there only be broken bits left to see?

You see, I don't dream of cute little baby clothes or warm baby snuggles or toothless baby grins. I have nightmares about what clothes to bury another baby in...cold kisses on dead cheeks...and toothless mouths that only hang silently open.

That is, I dream about those things...
...when I'm not convinced that the baby has already died and I will have to face an invasive (and painful) medical procedure to right the wrongs done by my own body.
...when I'm not already planning how to tell everyone. My husband. My boys. My mother and father. The people I work with. The people I volunteer with. The people here who have been so kind and supportive. I just don't know that I have it in me to "tell everyone" again.

I have felt too good for the last four days. In fact, when I saw the baby on the office ultrasound last Wednesday, I somehow felt like something was wrong. Saying hello felt like saying goodbye (I'm sure it doesn't take a genius to figure out how emotional an ultrasound can be after it's been used on you to diagnose both healthy and dead babies).

So yeah...feeling good has caused me a complete mental and emotional break. How unfair is that? It's all just mushed up in my brain into a big pile of crap that ALL feels wrong.

I ordered a doppler that I'm completely convinced I will not need. Can I return it for a refund if it is unopened?

I can't go to the doctor because the last time I went to see a doctor because something felt "not right"...well...we named him Travis...and I am now, quite obviously, a coward who is completely and totally afraid to face that. Because it wouldn't be that old familiar pain that I know I can deal with. It would be fresh new pain. And, quite frankly, I'm not sure I'm equipped to handle any more.

So I google "12 week miscarriage" and try to find some peace. It is what it is, right? At least I won't have to bury this one.

And I can't NOT go to the doctor because I sit and think and analyze. Not tired. No nausea. No more belly bloat. Don't have to pee six times a night. A few remaining symptoms can certainly be explained by the fact that my stupid body obviously doesn't recognize that the baby is dead and hasn't stopped producing all those hormones (that, ironically, were supposed to help keep the baby alive). I have to know.

Maybe tomorrow.

Here's hoping the nightmares hold off tonight...even though I'm not really expecting them to.

He is THAT kid

Second grade is hereby recorded as the grade where my kid went to the Valentine's Day class party without valentines. He has candy to share...just no valentines.

Apparently, my buying Power Rangers valentines (because he LOVES Power Rangers) and asking about the party...oh...a gazillion times...wasn't enough to inspire him to participate.

I just HOPE that there wasn't a take-home note asking me to provide anything for this party. I know I never received one. But because my son can't even recall whether he got such a note, the fact that I didn't receive one doesn't mean a whole heck of a lot.

I may not survive second grade.

Me did it

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I had a realization this morning, when the house was quiet and I was contemplating the snowy day ahead...I haven't been sharing things here because I'm suffering from what amounts to survivor guilt. I have two lovely living children, but I have friends who don't...so I feel guilty sharing stories about my children. It is difficult to stash the guilt away so that it doesn't affect the way I feel about my own children...or at least the pride and joy I feel in/for/about them. I'm going to make an effort to change this state of mind. So I apologize in advance if I go overboard with the cutesy kid stories.
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Myles has started, this past week, to find pride in his own accomplishments. He does something all by himself, puts both arms in the air, and exclaims, "Me did it!" It is one of the cutest things I have ever seen in my life.
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Sam got his much-wished-for snow day today. He played video games, watched tv, and is now...reading a book! Sure, it's a book about Star Wars...but it's still a book!
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Little Bug is still doing ok. I got another ultrasound picture but I'm entirely too lazy to scan it in and post it.
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Happy Birthday to me!

Today is my official birthday, but I have been celebrating all weekend already. Saturday, my parents watched the kids so Steve and I could go out to see New Moon (no snarky comments, please) and have Outback Steakhouse for dinner. It was WONDERFUL!

My parents also got me this pregnancy pillow as a birthday present. It is lovely and I can't thank them enough.

This morning I got kisses and birthday wishes from my boys. Sam even blew me a kiss from the door of the school as he was going in.

I have received birthday wishes from friends all over the world (thank you facebook).

There is the promise of a chocolate-y dessert at the office.

I received these from my boys...

I'm thinking I can scam takeout for my official birthday dinner.

It's a pretty good day. I hope yours is good as well.
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Baby update as requested : Everything is good. Baby measured 9w5d at 9w2d. Heartbeat was 169. Another appointment tomorrow morning (2/9).

Day by day

I was all hyped about this blogging thing. And then I got sick and tired (yes, mom, feel free to insert your own mom-joke here). And it all sort of fell apart. So...let's give this another try...shall we?

I'm forgetting things...missing deadlines...committing to tasks that I know darn well I can't complete. My house is disgusting (we just took our Christmas tree down yesterday, if that tells you anything). And speaking of Christmas, I STILL haven't sent my sister and her husband their gifts. Basically, things are going great around here and I'm coping SO WELL.

Meh...I can't really complain (except for...maybe...my overuse of "..." in my boring blog posts).

Warning: Random boring crap to follow...

Sam got an identical postcard to the one he's received for the previous two grading periods. He still needs to work on handwriting and staying on task. Since Steve and I still have to work on handwriting, I'm not stressing too much about that. And the staying on task...well...we're at the point where there isn't much else we can do. This morning he wanted to wear shorts to school because he couldn't find clean pants. Did I mention it's about 26 degrees and snowing outside?

Myles is going through that two-year-old explosion of vocabulary that is exciting and frustrating all at the same time. There are words he says quite clearly and words he seems to have made up for his own use. He REFUSES to say "Sam" and instead calls his brother, "Mosh." I personally have tried to work on it and I have no idea how these things are supposed to progress...so I'm just waiting to see what happens. The long and short of it is that we can't always understand him and he melts down. Two years old is hard on all of us.

Steve's 42-inch television broke about three weeks ago. It took a week to get a repair guy out to verify it was, in fact, broken (AND we had to take time off work in order to meet the guy at our house). The repair guy couldn't repair it right then...even though he knew what was wrong with it...because he had to order the parts in order to get paid under the warranty. The parts never arrived (in fact, there is some question as to whether they ever even shipped). We paid $250 for a warranty, but it wasn't the "Black Tie" warranty...so we just had to wait. Yesterday, I think the company just got tired of Steve pestering them with phone calls and gave him a code for a new television. But since we didn't pay for delivery the first time, we have to drag the broken television to the store and pick up the new television ourselves. Who provides such stellar service? Best Buy. All I have to say is...never again.

Today is Mexican Fiesta Lunch at the office (in honor of the boss being gone to Mexico for three weeks). I'm REALLY hungry thinking about it. Other than that, there ain't much to tell about me. My job is still here for now...though I am actively looking elsewhere now that the situation has gotten so much worse here. It's looking like we will be the second county in Ohio to enter fiscal emergency (which will result in what is essentially state control). There are 88 counties...so it's not really a positive distinction. I was feeling like it was time for a change anyway...so I'm choosing to look at this as a positive step FOR ME.

Dear Dr. A.

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Dr. A:
Your office tells me they can’t get me in to see you until February 3rd at 1pm. Is it ok to wait that long?
(This is karma, right. Basket-cases should never be allowed to get the flu and cancel appointments.)
Thanks.
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Hi, Cathy,
Let me see what I can do to get you in next week...
Ben
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Appointment January 27th at 11am.
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Zen and the art of...whatever

Between worrying and...well...worrying, I just don't have time for anything productive (like blogging). I'm TRYING not to dwell. I didn't even freak out on the receptionist who re-scheduled my flu-cancelled OB appointment for February 3rd. Nor did I freak out when the pharmacy told me they are out of stock of my Lovenox and I will have to pick up my refill tomorrow (and have a delayed injection as a result). I've really been holding it together pretty well.

But ever since a friend went in for her first ultrasound last week (at about 8 weeks) and found a 5-week gestational sac with no baby...it's not been easy.

I keep telling myself that whatever will be...will be. But honestly, that isn't making the knot between my shoulders go away.
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The Christmas stuff is still up at my house and I haven't sent my sister and her husband their Christmas presents.

God, I suck.

Please excuse Catherine from blogging...

...Wednesday and Thursday, January 13th and 14th. She was home sick with the flu.

Who plans this stuff???

My son's school is scheduled to be demolished immediately after a new one is built directly behind it. For a lot of reasons (not the least of which is the atrocious parking lot that holds only 30 cars), this is a really good idea.

But this...this was not a good idea...
That would be the heavy construction equipment they decided to deliver today right at 8:30am...school drop-off time...when parents are trying to get their children safely into school and get themselves to wherever they need to be. See how that thing is blocking any possibility of a right turn...the right turn necessary to get me to my work? Yeah...I was just THRILLED. It's not like we live in the city and I can just turn left and go around the block!

Oh...and see that spot where they're trying to back that thing into? That's one-third of the parking lot...completely blocked off now for construction purposes (and thus leaving room for only 20 cars).

This is going to be VERY interesting.

And after dealing with all of this headache for the next three years...Sam's probably never even going to see the inside of that new school.

Bad day

Today I had BAD chocolate cake. As in, horrible, nasty, yucky, wouldn't even eat a second piece.

Pretty much sums up my day.

Doctor appointment Wednesday...not sleeping well...