Thermal Imaging Wake-up

I installed an app a while back that gives me access to local emergency scanners, because in this rural-turning-suburban area, I NEVER seem to know what the hell is going on and everyone else does.  But it also gives me access to myriad other stations across the country.  It also has a feature that alerts me when the number of listeners reaches a certain number.

Now, I normally turn off the sound on my phone at night, but forgot to do so last night.  So I woke up to this:


sonofabitch.............

I'm so tired.

I'm tired of hearing horrible things.  I'm tired of hatred and anger and yelling and intolerance and over-sensitivity.

I'm tired of SEEING horrible things.  I don't want to see the body of the dead 3-year-old refugee baby washed up on the beach.  I don't want to watch an innocent protester get brained with rocks.  I don't want to see an innocent, UNARMED French police officer shot by terrorists who stormed into a room full of newspaper employees to kill as many of them as possible, having gained entry by threatening the child of another employee who happened to bring her daughter to work that day.

And I'm tired of breaking news that makes me feel....resigned.  I'm not surprised anymore.  I'm practically numb and left more aware of an evening news broadcast that's full of NO news than one that is full of bad.

And yet I'm more scared than ever.

I'm afraid to walk away from my children for more than a second, both out of fear of something awful happening to them and out of fear that someone will report me for "neglect" in that moment.

I'm afraid of offending someone with an innocent comment, a funny meme, a simple opinion.  And boy, is an opinion part of my genetic makeup.

I'm afraid for my friends who have had altercations with out-of-control cops.  And for my relatives and friends who ARE cops.

I'm afraid of what is going to make me NOT surprised next.

Yet, I know it will happen sooner rather than later.

Late Night Thoughts

Sometimes, being happy is terrifying.

I don't say that to diminish some of the awful things that happen in the world.  There is always "worse," as in the kind that people tell themselves they could be going through when dealing with something truly awful such as an illness, a death, or abuse.

But the fear that creeps up when things are going so well, when you question what lies around the bend to bring you back to earth, and know that nobody ever really has everything go well without something going badly somewhere, can be paralyzing.

I am not an optimist, clearly, but I'm also not one of those people who dwells on what could happen.  I don't constantly worry about money or health.  But sometimes, like tonight, something triggers that part of my brain that I've learned to ignore as much as possible for sanity.  In this case, it was reading a Reader's Digest story (and maybe a little bit of off-kilter hormones).

I read about the Swiffer Couple, Lee and Morty Kaufman, who are in their nineties.  They make me smile and laugh...and desperately want to have my husband around at that age.

You see, things are good right now.  No, not perfect, but I'm content.  The two of us are happy with each other, money is tight but manageable, the kids are wonderful, we're expecting our fourth baby (the one we had only ever daydreamed about when having trouble staying pregnant), and stress levels are generally low.  And that simple story of a happy couple who have had each other for nearly 50 years, who still love each other and take care of each other at an age that some people never reach sent me into that dark part of my brain.

We aren't getting any younger.  What if someone gets sick?  What if something goes horribly wrong with our lives?  What if I lost my husband?  I realized that I'm TOO happy -- I'm in a place in my life that I would be destroyed if Chris were gone tomorrow.  There are times that I know I would be able to be strong for my children and survive such a thing, but that's not where I am right now; I would truly fall apart.

Hell, I know I shouldn't be thinking about this stuff.  I know many people have these ebbs and flows in their lives where their reactions to something unexpected and devastating would be different than at other points in their lives.  But tonight, when I should be sleeping and not thinking, I did think about it and I fell apart.  I needed to be closer to my husband, who was snoring away on the opposite side of our bed, separated from me by my Great Wall of Pillows that appears when I'm pregnant.  Sniffling with tears I couldn't stop, I pushed the pillows out of the way and snuggled up to him.  He woke up and looked confused (of course), then asked me what was wrong.  I blubbered that I wasn't really sure but I needed him and he laughed and pulled me closer.

And because things are so good right now, that was all I needed.  Just a squeeze and a kiss and an understanding smile to pull me back.  Which is the point of all of this; I want that be what I need and have for as long as possible.

I'm Only Dancing

A comment posted to my previous post made me realize that the past month has gone by, I survived it, and while I'm moving on and making plans and living life, nobody else realizes is.  Anyone who stumbles upon my blog would think I'm still wallowing and going through that horrible weekend on a constant basis.

So, what has happened?  Most importantly, my little guy turned 3 that same weekend.  I had a post ready and was waiting until I added pictures, but it was lost as time slipped by and I healed.  I retro-posted it, so someday in the future I can hopefully forget what else was happening in my life that weekend and just  remember his birthday and him at this age.

I did have the D&C and cried the moment I woke out of anesthesia, and that was pretty much it.  I had a few moments of depression the next week or two -- visiting the specialist in the OB department at THE hospital to have babies around here, with moms there for their follow-ups with their newborns; visiting my doc for my follow-up, with a new mom breastfeeding next to me while we waited...I was that crazy crying woman sitting with all of you, now you know why (I did leave the room so as to not make them all uncomfortable) -- but most of that was hormonal and not rational sadness (I can't be the only one who recognizes the difference) and I'm fine now.

I actually need to call today to see if our genetic testing is complete.  I fear there will be no answers.  I fear everything will be normal.  I'm not sure any answer will be okay with me, though, so I'll probably cry and move on from that, as well.

My doctor told us we can try again right away.  She is one of the school of thought that if my body is ready, it may happen, and if it isn't, it won't.  No further healing is necessary, except perhaps emotional.  So we tried, and we wait, and unlike every other time, I am in no hurry to test.  I would happily live in ignorance, if I could, and realize 12 weeks from now that my period is 3 months late.  The joy and fun of the process is gone and replaced by a whole bunch of unnecessary worry.  Unnecessary only because I have zero control over any of it.

So life has continued, as it always does.  Soccer and t-ball have begun.  Dance will soon end.  Summer will come and we will fill the pool.  And I will stay on the ride to see what's over the next hill...even if I do anticipate those peaks and valleys, and hope for something specific. 

Important Events

Things have been jumpin' on the old homestead!

First, and most importantly, Shamrock Shakes are back at McDonald's!  Minty-vanilla goodness in January?  Seems a tad early, but this little addict will not be complaining about that.

Heavenly and disgusting, all in one....similar to a McRib in that way.

Hubby got a new job and is making the switch.  The pay is better, the insurance cost is worse.  The hours are better, the benefits are weak.  The job security has improved, but the company is MUCH smaller than where he is now, so I'm not sure if it's really any different.  He'll work from home 95% of the time, so he won't have two hours of commuting each day and he'll be able to help with the kids' school pickups/dropoffs, which give me a little bit more flexibility.  I'm trying to be a supportive wife, and I'm happy that he's happy, but I'm worried and don't do well with change and I'm more than a little bitter that he can find another job while he has one already and I can't even find a suitable part-time position.  He'll also be making occasional trips to LA.  We'll be testing those old mommy skills without Daddy as a buffer, now won't we?

Also, we had another two funerals that I should have attended.  During my TWW.  I'm just way too superstitious over this (I know, it's dumb...can't help it).  That takes us up to 5 funerals in 3 months and a total of 3 miscarriages after attending funerals pregnant.  The plan was to pretend I was sick so I didn't have to go, then we ALL actually got sick.  Karma's a bitch.

I signed Avery up for Kindergarten and am freaking the freak out.  Not at all ready for my baby girl to be starting "real" school.  Dude, I remember Kindergarten.  But I know she's ready and excited.  Her pre-K teacher really takes K-readiness seriously and told us at her conference that Ave's one of the few kids she's actually recommending as ready to make the move.  I just wish she didn't have her father's outgoing personality (total sarcasm; did you catch it?).  The kid doesn't talk until she is 100% comfortable with the people around her.  She just absorbs information.  And that, apparently, is what Daddy did, too.  You know, the guy that easily could have been the kid with the public, newsworthy freak-out at school and left after his Junior year because  he hated everyone and everything there?  So cross your fingers for an awesome teacher that pulls this little girl out of her shell.  Because, honest-to-god, if I don't actually tell her she MUST talk to people, she won't.  Sigh.

Hmm, what else?  The weather has been fantastic.  I love warm post-Christmas winters, except for all the mud.  High of 54 on the last day of January?  I'll take it!

Oh, yeah.  There's this, too!

You didn't think I'd put this first, did you?  So far, everything looks good.  The first positive was on 11 DPO (I couldn't wait any longer) and each subsequent test got darker.  I refused to call my doctor's office until I was late, so that was a long, rough weekend.  My blood test was unbelievably easy (I'm finding that phlebotomist and keeping her), and my HCG number was 443 at 14 DPO, which is slightly higher than average, but still within normal ranges.  I'll go back tomorrow to make sure my doubling time is appropriate. So all is as it should be for the time being.  I refuse to complain about nausea and aches and pains because I know those are better than the alternative I've been dealing with.

I'm certainly being kept on my toes this month!  If only I could get a nap in somewhere.

Mind on a Baby, and a Baby on My Mind

Nope.  Not pregnant yet.

But now that we know Baby #3 is in the near future, my tendency toward over-researching topics has found a new topic to dissect.  Despite my relative expertise on the topic, I'm finding all sorts of things I need advice and reassurance about.

1. Am I really ready for this?  I mean, really?!
Since having baby #1, I always knew there'd be a baby #3.  My parents were both the oldest of three, as was I, and my husband is the 3rd of 4 kids.  Once I decided I wanted kids at all, I wanted to have more than one for a sibling, and 3 just felt more natural to me than two because it's what I know.  So, logically, I know that I am ready to have another child because I made the biggest part of the decision long before now.
But now that it's so much more real, I'm freaking out a little.  Will my older two be okay?  Can we afford another one?  Is our house big enough?  Questions that I've already thought through and problems that I've already solved, but I look up people in similar situations just to reassure and, in some instances, further prepare myself.

2. Telling our family.
My in-laws will not be AT ALL surprised when we announce a pregnancy.  They will be thrilled for us and excited for another grandchild.  Pretty normal reactions and I welcome their support WHOLE-freakin'-HEARTEDLY.
My family?  Well, let's just say that they haven't learned that some things aren't any of their damn business, nor are their opinions welcome.  Honestly, if I could just skip telling them, I would.  I'd much rather do the Facebook announcement to distant friends and relatives than tell my family.  Avery was unplanned, so they still seem to think that we are irresponsible about getting pregnant.  When we told them Isaac was on the way, I was asked if I really thought that was a good idea, whether it was "another accident," and told that THEY thought we should have waited longer.  Wow.  Thanks.  Then, when Isaac was born, my mother was so upset that we didn't tell her about the c-section and let her know everything that was going on, that she didn't come to the hospital to meet her grandson when we called.  Pretty sure my husband will never forgive that.  And last week, one of my brothers made a comment about the fact that I, "keep popping out kids."  Really, asshole?  I have two.  And I'm 31 years old.  Furthermore, a few of the women in my family have said we should just be happy with what we have and stop because we have one of each.  Because, obviously, motherhood is all about symmetry....  No wonder I have such skewed views of being a mom.  I have such screwed-up role models.
So, yeah.  Not thrilled about that.  I'm seriously leaning toward the picture-text of an ultrasound or pregnancy test to tell them.  Really.  Not kidding.

3. Getting pregnant in the first place
Yes, I know how it works.  But for some reason I'm still afraid I'm going to have trouble getting pregnant.  It's never been a problem before, but I still find myself looking up stuff I already know (cycle length, hormones, timing, etc.) to assure myself that I'm not screwing things up.  I even bought a fertility monitor because I managed to convince myself that my cycle is wonky.  I'd feel worse about the expense if it wasn't for my learning that my cycle is, in fact, on the fritz since I had my IUD out...

4. Staying pregnant
We've had two miscarriages (one before Avery and one between Ave and Isaac) and I'm truly terrified of having another.  The feelings of guilt and anger and emptiness are horrible, never mind the physical pain.  Chris doesn't have any idea how to make me feel better, though he really tries, and I feel worse about the fact that I'm not helping him through it...  I hate this topic and really try not to think about it at all, but when it pops into my head, it digs itself in and scares the crap out of me.

5. Childbirth
I've had 2 c-sections and will be trying a VBA2C this time around.  Uncharted territory for most women and their doctors.  I'm apprehensive, but I really think it is the right choice given our circumstances (long stories, which will need to be discussed in a later post).

6.  I'm getting old
I know, I'm really not.  But I've begun to appreciate my two kiddos being old enough to do things for themselves and almost being out of diapers.  The thought of the sleepless nights and work involved with an infant is exhausting...not enough to outweigh the wonderfulness of a baby.  It wouldn't surprise me if this wound up being our last, though.

So that's where my head is.  In all the important ways, I'm sure this is the right thing to do.  But, like when deciding to have Isaac, I've already started second-guessing all of those decisions...which, I suppose, is a lot like being a mom in the first place. ;-)