~ HerdinKittys ~

baby one:  Annabella Page   b.8.30.04    via  emergency   c-section   two weeks late

baby two:  Samantha Antonella    b.9.9.05   via urgent (surprise and oh, did we mention that your uterus is so thin...something about possible rupture but "just in time") c-section     one week early

Part 2:     Baby Two

We had decided that one baby was more than enough to love.  Why press our luck.  I'll allow myself to write down a little known ugly secret:  up until Annabella,  I had already had two d&cs and one miscarriage. Ugly, still wake in the middle of the night with sweats, wishing things had been different type of secret.  The fact that karma allowed me this new child was enough. 

Usher in the poor math skills.  That's right, I brought a new being into the world because I suck at math.  Record taking I can do and looking back,  I kept the records.  I just miscalculated.  Did you know that the free cycle charts on the web don't do a damn thing for you if the information entered is incorrect.

11:50 pm -January 05- as husband is lying next to me ready to doze off I manage to whisper the question, "would you be mad if I told you something?"  How impossible is that to answer!  He, being the kind guy he is, whispers back that no he won't be mad....go ahead

seconds later.......something to the effect that I think I might be pregnant

midnight - husband is out the door heading towards the nearest pharmacy for the beloved friend of most women, the pregnancy test.  He stays gone f.o.r.e.v.e.r.   

finally home he brings in:  1.  bouquet of roses

                                           2.  box of candy

                                          3.  sushi  (I love this man)

                                         4.  2 tests

this all explains the forever.  he tells me it's a good outcome no matter what.  excellent, I love me some sushi after peeing on a stick.

The faintest line you have ever seen happens - on both tests.  We have to hold those bad boys up to the light to confirm the positives.  Okay, no we know and proceed to freak out.  I will remain numb for months.  Seriously.

Potty Potty Puke and Toil.   Give me a witch's broom baby.  I've got the mantra down.  Pregnancy curse kicks in almost immediately.  It makes the first go around look like a cake walk.  Annabella and I are busy bonding though so it does help to take my mind off of.....me.  Shocking.

Week 7.  Blood.  I know this scenario - I tell husband that I need to go to the ER.   It won't be until much later that day that he realizes why.  He's assuming something else....to this day I haven't figured out what.   

The ER is accommodating and I understand that there is absolutely nothing they can do if I'm losing this battle.  Off to the ultrasound and holy crap!  That is one heart-beaten little bean!   This kid isn't going anywhere.  Lots of blood.  Staff can give no explanation.  I am trying to mentally project every ounce of hope and strength to the glow bean baby. 

Husband and I grow fighters.  She fights.  She's healthy.  I breath.  Blood stops two days later.  I breath deeper.

Rest of this pregnancy is spent transfixed on just how in the HELL I'm gonna do stuff like......oh say......bath time.  Shopping......not losing one while corralling the other.  Because it can happen.  These little humans like to hide under things and not make a fucking sound.  It's how they play 'give mommy a heartache and ohhhh man, I now have a playmate to help distract her while I go all undercover navy seal on her.  Won't it be fun to watch her stroke out from  under this lovely round thing of clothes'. 

I digress...okay, freak under control.

By the ninth month  I am the size of gawd damn barn and although I only want to deliver when she's good and ready, I am ready.  On the first day of the ninth month.  PLEASE.....

two weeks later....aka....two (almost three) weeks early.....awake on the 9th of Sept. around 2 am and think 'wow, life kinda sucks right now,  I'm not feeling so hot'.  Get up, lay down, laugh at this and get up again.  Play on computer and make noise to wake husband up an hour later because I hate feeling like crap By Myself.  Nice huh?

6 am and I know and he knows that we might have this baby today but no hurry.  So happens that I already have a 10 am doctor appt. so we'll take it from there.  Being the amazing planner that I am, I proceed to ....make no plans.  No babysitter just in case, etc.   Huh.

10am appt and the nurse knows right away that things are "happening".  Doctor comes in, talks with me and looks up quietly from his paperwork.  He is one of the kindest, gentlest ob/gyn physicians I've ever been in contact with.  He knows from my demeanor that yes, things are happening.  Sends me to back of office to chart contractions.

Their machine lies.  It states unequivocally that I am not in labor.  The nurse tells me to go home and rest, put my feet up.  maybe in a few days.   

The doctor comes in, sends me up front, calls the maternity ward to tell them he's sending me over.  He is positive the baby is ready.  Oh yeah,  this hospital doesn't allow for vbacs so timing is everything at this point. 

We say our goodbyes and I head to the car sort of thinking that this wasn't really happening.  Call husband in the car and casually tell him to get to the hospital....doctor thinks we might have the baby today.  Husband is just as casual and we say our "love you's".  Drive 30 seconds to the hospital extra parking lot and walk a good mile to the entrance...contracting as I go.  Still, in denial.  Brilliance at it's finest.

Enter, register, walk to maternity, climb into bed after all the hellos - hell, I'd only been there a year ago - and laugh with yet another amazing physician from the practice.   side note:  the whole office....amazing.  I MISS them.

Contraction mid laugh.  No laughing.  Gripping.  Doctor stops cold and watches the dreaded machine.  I see the nod.  Once again I hear the wonderful news that I will be going into OR right away.  This time however, there is a heartbeat and I'm only labeled urgent.  Relief until....

Husband.  No sitter.  All three of us are sick as dogs with the normal fall cold.  Good lord, I'm going to have to do this alone.  That's a pretty sad feeling to have only to know that there's going to be an amazing up feeling very soon. 

Wheeled into OR and I am completely enveloped in happiness from the staff.  The anesthesiologist has a student in the room and through stories they tell throughout, she's even watched his children.  I miss my husband.  I want to see his eyes gleam and feel his hands rub my head.  Telling me it's all okay.  A nurse enters to tell me he is here, in the hallway and will be with our oldest, ready to welcome our newest.

To make up for his absence, the universe is kind and fills the room with laughter and smiles.  They will celebrate with me.  The doctor makes her final push and there she is.....oh my god she has hair.  I snort out a laugh and am amazed that this is how a C-section usually goes. 

They clean baby up and the student anesthesiologist pulls up a chair beside my head and for the next 5 minutes....hold Samantha for me.  She and I coo over this little bitty human.  I will never remember the student's name but I will always remember her face, her hands......I am eternally grateful for that act of kindness. 

Behind the curtain, doctor is telling me that my uterus is dangerously thin, that my body couldn't handle the pregnancy any more....and then she smiles and asks if I am sure about my decision to snip, snip.  Yes, for the love of Pete, neuter me. 

I love my healthy babies.  I am afraid to push my luck.  Afraid the universe won't be so kind the next go around.  My heart is taken with the three most perfect people in my life, in my world.   

Recovery was normal, with staples and stitches, and a tummy built for a girdle.  Good grief. Get home.  Get mind numbing POD.  Actually, pick up right where I left off with Annabella.  Get meds.  Get better.

They are healthy.  They are perfect.  They are why I care to make myself a better person. 

                               

on LOGO

I am a newbie conservative- turned- liberal with a plethora of ill-conceived ideology swimming around in my head - all of which is not getting any easier to come to terms with nor to resolve.   

Short version now:  grew up in the South with stoic Rep., religious father and step-mother.  Why the use of stoic instead of say, staunch?  They were willing to change their beliefs ever so slightly if given the correct information but never if pertaining to the emotional side of any given situation.  They're just great that way.

Needless to say, I was just a tad brain-washed.  Okay, and no computer access at home.  No internet, no time for news, no excuses.

I've run the gamut of emotions concerning social and political topics, trying to get an intelligent grasp on what is factual.  Being ignorant in many of these areas makes it hard for me to jot down certain things on this blog without a fair amount of research, which is why I tend to stay far, far away.

Not that I mind research - I love it.  Seriously.  There are time constraints.  Little persons with whom reading a book and understanding the words coming off the pages make research extremely difficult.

It's a lot easier for me to divulge matters of depression, the beauty of being a mom, the heartache of being a wife....than it is for me to really "let go" of how I center myself on world topics. 

So I'll start off itsy bitsy teeny small and see if I can't induce only a personal mild coronary.

I watch LOGO.  That's not supposed to be an Ewhhh inspiring statement.  It is what it is.  I'm coming to grips with some things and while a lot of the programming is cutesy (it's tv, ratings, blah blah blah) every once in a while there happens to be a decent show where a person can get the ol brain ticking.  Shocking, I know.

One of these shows centered on the portrayal of the gay and lesbian lifestyle in films strecthing back as far as the early 1900's.  One statement caught my ear - it wasn't earth shattering in any shape.  It simply seemed factual.  As if it were applicable to what I've always known around me.  And well, it's always about the personal yes?

Susan Sarandon  (highly paraphrased, but I've done my best from memory) explaining her insertion of the kiss at the end of Thelma & Louise, "I didn't think of it as a pass, it was more of a declaration.  ....they were at the point of finishing each other's sentences.  It's sort of like the end of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kiss.  Only they didn't go out in a rain of glory in bullets," pauses,"wouldn't that be great, a kiss between Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.  All though, that would give them even more reason to shoot them.  Instead of getting their dicks out, they get out their guns.  Because that's what boys do, they get out their guns."   

Yes, that's a whole lot of sarcasm on her part.  Ah well, maybe one day, in another life, where people are just people.  Optimism sucks doesn't it?

Wish I was here

Wish I was here, originally uploaded by herdinkittys.

Tale of Two Labors or This is what my husband has to put up with

baby one:  Annabella Page   b.8.30.04    via  emergency   c-section   two weeks late

baby two:  Samantha Antonella    b.9.9.05   via urgent (surprise and oh, did we mention that your uterus is so thin...something about possible rupture but "just in time") c-section     one week early

Part 1   :      Baby One

Congress park.  We watch as ducks dodge deranged toddlers chasing them with large, pointy sticks.  The ducks do not seem to mind - they know the big humans will put an end to the carnage.  I want that.  Carnage and all.

Pregnant.  I was one of the lucky ones...right off the bat. 

By five months, pregnancy has become a curse on my existence.  Potty, Puke, Puke some more, Crumple in bed.  I still love this baby.  Bring it on nature.

I don't look pregnant...why are those other women with swollen bellies glaring at me?  Oh yeah,  they are putting a hex on me and my non-pregnant, pregnant belly.  All in time I suppose.

4 weeks prior to baby one being born.....S.L.A.M..  Yes, that was meant to be angry.   Hit from behind (other car going around 50 on impact) in my husband's Jeep while slowing down to make a left into our driveway.  The Jeep is now off the road, tilting into the ditch due to the force of impact.  The other car is sideways in the wrong lane.  Front end crumpled.   I hear someone whimpering.  Is that me?

Elderly couple exit their vehicle, limping, disoriented.   Neighbor from back heard everything.  He's walking up the road that meanders past our house and into our shared driveway.   Gentlemen is now yelling at me, "You shouldn't have been driving like that!"

I'm out of the Jeep, in my driveway, holding my stomach.  Is she okay?  Neighbor has a camera.  Taking pics.  People are stopping to help.  Get the other couple into my open garage, limping across the large driveway,  and they sit in our rocking chairs.  Emergency people are here.  Couple's neighbor is in garage with us....I like her.  She's gentle to all of us.

No one notices I'm pregnant.  Sheriff is stern and telling me to go back across the street and move my vehicle.  The Jeep lurches and wobbles.  I wobble - out of the car.  Not feeling that good right now.  Neighbor woman notices my walk, my stomach.   Worry lines form across her smooth forehead.

Elderly woman verbally accosting me.   What's that?  "Yes sir",  I do want to go to the ER.  I haven't felt her moving.  Why? 

Wheeled into ER, husband right behind the gurney.  Quick once-over.  No heartbeat.  What?  No heartbeat.  No movement.   I feel hot tears.  Husband is crying.  I...can not handle this....please...

Wheeling me to the maternity ward to find out what is happening. 

At the exact moment we hit the maternity ward - she twitches.  Small.  something

One hour after the accident, ten minutes with not knowing where her heartbeat was.  I am quivering, squeaky as I tell a very worried maternity crew there was a flutter.  They let out a collective sigh.

She is okay.  okay.  I tell myself this  all day, all night.  And all the next day...and next..

Due date comes.  It leaves with no ado.  Schedule induction for two weeks after.   

August 28th - 11ish pm - can't sleep.  Contractions.  Very light.  Still won't let me sleep.  Get up, lay down, off and on.

August 29th - early Sunday morning  - contractions are really kicking in.  She decided that Tuesday didn't work for her.  Husband/sailor/nuke is charting my contractions on his laptop.  I want to rip that fucking laptop out of his miserable nuke hands and BEAT him with it.  I don't for it requires moving somewhere besides the couch or the kitchen.  And it is keeping him calm.  Calm is useful. 

Move to the kitchen, gripping counter, laying my head down.  Call doctor around 6 pm.  Come to the ER she says.  OK.

One hour later and what?   Only 3?  Break my water for god's sake.  I don't say this.  I am mentally projecting this and a wide variety of death and destruction on all.   

Water broken,  Progression still slow.  Come to find out I have some mad coping skills.  I do not scream or moan - I grip.  Thank god for bed side rails.  Narcotics, yes pretty please.  It is 2 am.  I want that epidural everyone has been raving about. 

Much better but what's that?  Pitocin?  Will help huh?  OK.  First contraction goes fine....Second...it's not stopping.  Why?  Seriously..what the f.u.C.K!  Where is she?  Why isn't she moving?  Is that her heart rate?  It's going away.  And not coming back up like you just promised.  Excuse me - nurse?  you promised?! 

There's a shot to stop the contraction but my will to move is nil.  Look up to see frantic chit chat among staff.  Emergency c-section as baby's heart rate is there, but it's not good enough.  It's bad.  You know this when the nurse who's prepping you is shaking just a tad. 

Wheeled into O.R. and can someone please get my husband.  You see, after a billion years of nothing happening I sent him out to inform people via cell that....nothing is happening.  No p.a. to find him.  I need him and they just strapped my arms down to these wings jutting off the O.R. table. 

  They found him and he's coming in the room now.  My husband has the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen.  The scrubs make them gleam.  They aren't talking nor is he but he rubs my head and my eyes feel swollen with exhaustion. 

There she is...She is gushy and gooey and she had her cord wrapped around her neck, wearing it like a scarf.  A very deadly, horrible, evil, cruel scarf.  And she was sunny side up.  Making it worse at that angle.  And she's perfect.

She's okay.  She's a fighter.  They are cleaning her and now they take her out with husband.  Bye-bye.....

Is it cold?  I'm shaking.  The nicest anesthesiologist in the world wraps a very toasty towel around my head.  I am so damn groggy.  Closing my eyes for just a second....

HK!   Are you okay?   

Tells me he's never had a patient fall asleep like that and it worried him.  Really?  Maybe a touch over dramatic sir?  I have been up for 33+ hrs laboring.  I oblige, shut one eye, strain to keep the other open. 

Recovery:  3 days in hospital.  tummy is on fire.  Most beautiful thing thus far in my life.  We take her home.

She's okay.  okay.  a fighter.  I tell myself this every day and every night.  Healthy.

Sad dad walking

This is a disclaimer:  at no point do husband or I feel that our daughters are ho's....this is unethical and well, being that I was one....there will be no ho-ish behavior Ever in this house.  All in fun.  There, you've been disclaimed.

On our way back to the car after a quick trip to the mall the husband and I decide to take the bebes to a well-known children's outfitters.  We like the clothes there, shop there often, have nothing against the store.  Being that Halloween is among the most favorite of holidays for one HK I head over to the costumes with Annabella in my arms.   Does she go for the pretty little fairy outfit with butterfly wand?  Please bitch, this kid is all serious with no time for flirtsy, fancy, butterflyiness.  Then what of the outfit with her favorite of animals-  Cat - on the front of the dress?  Mnmm too glittery, too mundane, no no no what we're looking for is something better suited for wild women or if you prefer me to be polite, something a cruel dance instructor would have the little ones wear in an ode to bugs.  May I present:

http://www.childrensplace.com/www/b/TCP/images/styles/500175_l.jpg

She gravitated to that getup with tunnel vision and a mission.  That mission - to pull it off  the hanger and up over her head as fast as humanly possible.  Thwarted.  By a mother terrified of crimson ruffles trimmed in glittery black.  A mother who backed away from that thing with one thought in mind....find husband.  Tease him.  Immediately.

hk:   Hey hon?  Did ya see what she went for over here?

hk huband:  *mumbling, eye rolling* yes. 

wait for it...

he who stepeth over the lineth:  but then again look who her mother is.

she who knoweth when husband is joking:  hmmmm, okay lets head out.

internal monologue saying TEASE him please.  And as for that last comment,  Hey?!

hk:  So of course it would be our daughter that goes for that huh?  I hate to say it but it was kind of ho-ish.  Something I'd pick out huh?

man who knoweth his boundaries by an inch:  Yeah, none of that.  Seriously, if that's what I have to look forward to I'm gonna have to kick some little boys asses in the future.   Knowing her mother and all.

me, who doth know if it walked and talked like a duck well then:  'cause no one told you being a ho was genetic.

husband laughing, shaking head: oh god

go man go

3 a.m. Sit on bed wondering where time goes.  I just looked at the clock and it said 10:45 damn it. 

3:05 a.m.  Still awake wondering where the rest of the paperwork is for car registration, etc.  How mundane, how time-consuming, how totally irresponsible of me to let this stuff sit on the back shelf until due day. 

3:15 a.m.  I give.  No more for me, maybe sleep might be ok for just a bit

4:44 a.m.    Samantha is awake - bottle time

8 a.m.   Oh my god    The beautiful babies let me sleep in.....life is good

Being off a prescribed medicine can play funny little tricks i.e., causing extreme fatigue but with the inability to sleep.  Another personal favorite is the inability to form cohesive thoughts rendering me useless in writing posts.   Yet another, a lovely feeling of being extremely elated and yet strangely mired down, as if living is a chore and tears and anxiety are always right around the corner.  There is a point in which everyone realizes (at least you hope they do) that life is what you make of it and sitting on your tush while whining isn't going to make it better.  That's what the self-help books always say    ...

***nope, never read one cover to cover. could be the writing, could be me not being able to stomach the "touchy-feely".  they have helped others and I've watched enough Oprah to get the drift***

While it's nice to think this way, as usual it's easier said than done.   When being caught up in the unfounded sadness and fatigue start to outweigh the normal day-to-day joys all around it becomes a ferocious circle of not knowing how to get up, get moving, and get help.  Bless all the help out there - the counselors, the exercise (fall time, walking, amazing), medicine - it's needed.   I've written already on this but it's time to face facts.  I've lived a lifetime of knowing there's a normal happiness that doesn't have to consistently be only a thread away from turmoil.  I'm back on Lexapro...the **really bad** moments are starting to bog me down, I'm back to my old self and that simply isn't good.  So, let's wish this stuff good luck.   Happy times!

Happy mom moment to end on a good note:   Annabella is drawing A's.  So well that she's showing off and drawing them upside down as well.  Overachiever.   Speaking of which, Samantha is walking more like a toddler and less like a drunken sailor on leave.  I'll post pics later.  When the copier/scanner decides it's good and damn well ready to behave like an office appliance.  Instead of a prickly bitch.  Everything around here has an attitude.  Sheesh.

Overload of the sensory and emotional kind

Stop.  Now think of the last olfactory moment that registered an excellent in the memory bank.  How about the last visual stimuli that made you giggle/frown/smile-so-big-your-muscles-freeze-that-way?  The last thing you heard as of THIS moment - did it make you think?  Nothing?  Well then, how about in the last 10 to 15 years; anything?  We're not talking about life-altering, jaw-dropping moments in which the heavens open up whilst choirs of angels trumpet the moments very existence, we're talking the subtle to not so subtle day in/day out events.  Here are a few of my personal favorites that still spark an emotional twinge in my day:

• Portsmouth Naval Hospital waiting for a friend (read ex-boyfriend) to finish up his surgery consultation.  I was waiting in the hall and in she walked, all 6 feet of her.  The only things I remember are: 1.  6ft tall   2.  brown hair  3.  her smell.   To this day, some 10 years later, I can still smell her skin - freshly cleansed with a hint of granny apple fragrance that wafted through the hallway.  Take this as you will but it was all I could do not to grab her and get lost in that scent.  That does sound strange.....ah well.
• Pregnancy for me was a trek through a forgotten acre in Eastern Europe loaded with mines, emotionally draining ones that took me out for days on end and still leave me reeling every now and then.  For some reason that will elude me to the final days I thought that being pregnant and watching animal shows would have absolutely no effect on my psyche whatsoever.  Wrong.  Stupid wrong.  HBO ran a special on shelter dogs and watching that show made me cry so hard my husband was actually worried.  Worried he'd have to take me to the ER and have them sedate me and then he would have to go to work and explain to everyone how his wife was insane and therefore needed to go home to make sure she didn't watch the damn re-run.  Because I almost did.  I needed to be throttled.  But those poooorrrr doogggssss!!!!
• My lovely husband knows which buttons get me all riled, one of those being disaster factoids.  I am a grown adult capable of understanding that should a giant meteor come hurtling this way ending it all, well then that's whats gonna happen.  No use getting all AGHHHH about it.  That being said, I'm still a big baby and don't want to know when - please wipe my ass out without me having to know about it.  If I know, I get riled.  So now you can sort of feel my reaction when tonight he tells me of the asteroid that will miss us by about 20,000 miles in 2029 and hit us around 2037 (all right, I'm sure I have the facts wrong but research at this hour?  please).  Nice.  Thanks hun. 

The club

This is me stomping my feet wanting to know where this so called sisterhood of mothers, the club of moms if you will, has set up home base because the loveiness is needed around here.   I've looked under park benches and around store aisles and nowhere are they to be found.  Believe it or not this is not a rant rather an observation of mom genres I have found  based on playground and urgent care visits.  I am effectively zerberting scientific methods and using - nothing that can be used in a study whatsoever.  That being cleared up let's begin this quick jaunt through hk land. 

I start out in not just any play area but one in which the community has built out of quality wood and the equipment resembles a nearby historical area.  It is everything I had hoped for as the girls went crazy stomping in puddles, squealing and screeching, and basically wreaking havoc.  Enter a member of one genre of moms:  the  neurotic mother.   She's the one who just about strokes out when 'hk the younger' comes behind her sweet little darling climbing a small ladder.  Not only does she jump a foot in the air at this situation but proceeds with a gut-wrenching story concerning the dangers of playground ladders and how they nearly killed a family member.  She does this in the same breath as telling me about potty training her son.  I do not get angry at neurotic mom for she is her own worst enemy and will eventually wear herself out without the aid of other disapproving opinions.  She needs the "sisterhood" desperately.

Next visit, UCC at the always warm and inviting local army hospital.  Cause - Nursemaid's elbow for 'hk the elder' thanks to her mother.  There is much guilt in above statement and ugggghhhh....just don't ever hold your child's hand while they throw a temper tantrum.  POP=baby hurt=mom can't make it better so off to the doctor.  4 hours later and a 5 second treatment to boot we had plenty of time to look around.  The elder is fine but I'm still treating her with kid gloves.  Observed several mom types at the UCC the most prominent being disapproving mom.  She is the one glaring at every small thing you do worth your children and letting you know via those eyes that you suck at your job.  No one ever really likes to be told they suck but this woman feels it her job to inform all of you others that no matter what you do it's pathetic and had you just asked her, she would do the job free of charge and much better than you.  Topping that with only addressing your children and keeping hers farrrr away from yours, she is the one who found the sisterhood and sued it out of existence.

Not to be outdone is hypersensitive, haven't slept in a year, talkative but only to stay awake, keeping the children near but letting them roam just a bit mom.  This woman is ...well....me.  As a member of this genre please let me apologize for the inconvenience our children cause as they giggle and tear down the hallway with confiscated "mom" gear, i.e. credit card from mom's wallet.  We don't mean to take your glares personally but given the hypersensitivity, we can't help it.  When we chat we don't do so to annoy you, we're merely trying to keep ourselves from falling out on those cold, tiled floors.  There are many more but for now, I'll keep looking around the library shelves, the museum fountains and the strip mall parking lots for that club - I know it's out there, somewhere.

Passings and Birthdays

   

To sum up the general tone around this house after hearing of Mr. Irwin’s passing –

Me:  I have no idea why I feel so incredibly sad for someone I’ve never met and especially given my distaste for celebrity gawking (meaning serious inability to differentiate real from media characters).

Husband:  Really?  Let’s see, we play The Wiggles dvd w/ Irwin every day – his character and his family, we see them EVERY day and they entertain our girls.  They bring a smile to the girls faces – that’s our connection.  That’s why you’re a little sad.   You’re human and you care, enough said.

Me:  Thank you.  And I love you.  Enough said.

Moving past sad events and onto where I have been the past few days.  Family.  Tons of family drove in and flew here for the Labor day festivities.   I decided to take advantage of everyone being in one spot and had the girls’ birthday party this weekend.  It’s been a whirlwind to say the least.  The girls are 12 months and 9 days apart and having one party works for us for the time being.   Therefore, this post will be blissfully short and with pictures.  Because a lady has to brag.

On my 2nd wind

I currently have way too many thoughts going on in my head to focus on writing therefore; this post is going to be all over the place.  To start, I’ve been off my meds officially for one week.  Phewww and double phewww.  The simple pill I wrote about is a wonderful drug, truly it is but if I skip one day, just one teensy day, I have the urge to go.  Not to go as in to merrily head out to the grocery store with the girls in tow, oh no.  To go as in to get the hell out of wherever I am and to not come back.  Ever.  Big piles of not-so-goodness with that considering I have two little ones who are relying solely on mom these days.  And don’t get me started on the nice side effects of wanting to hurt oneself.   Obviously this was an unacceptable situation and being that the doctor is not an option – wait, that’ll come later- nor were refills available, I relied on the sparse moments husband was home and sat in my room and rocked.  After doing so, I cleaned like a mad woman and after that I didn’t sleep.  It’s past 1 a.m. and I’m still not sleeping and it’s been a week.  There’s a better med for me, I just have to get this nonsense out of my system.

 

Ah yes, the doctor and my trials of trying to see someone with those types of credentials.

I’ve mentioned that husband is a rare sight these days and that’s because the boat has kidnapped him and he belongs to it now.  Rather he belongs to her and all that good stuff.  You don’t compete with these sorts of things because that only leads to nasty arguments that will not ever be resolved.  Nature of the beast and all that.  So with no spouse nearby and every other family member having you know, JOBS, there’s no one to watch the ladies while I head off to the doctors.  I’m supposed to have blood work and ultrasounds and everything a hypochondriac would get all wet over but I’m not one so I don’t.  I do not like being poked and prodded and the all too often look from medical professional that says but one thing, “you are soooo not sick; you’re just craving attention aren’t you?”   It’s the reason that day 2 post c-section #2 I cried in my room for hours, praying the nurses would leave me alone.  So basically, no doctor visit no meds for a bit and this is why I can’t be reliant on them.

Did anyone know that breathing exercises really do work?  Seriously.  I am staying sane through the power of air – whooo yeah!   Tonight ‘hk the youngest’ had a mini breakdown over.....over.....hmmmmmm....over nothing apparently.  Nothing got the better of her and she threw her little head back and stormed towards me, throwing her body against my legs and burrowing her head into one of my knees.  Which would be quite adorable if not for the screaming not only from her but from ‘hk the elder’ who was mid diaper change.  Holy cow that’s a hell of a lotta screaming and I started to scream and.....stopped.  I did that mommy counting thing, breathing slow and it worked and to all the breathers that have gone before – my girls thank you.  Their mother is much calmer now.  So I’m off to find my sleep.  Here’s to hoping.