Uh, I Was Calling About, Um, My Vagina?

My body is weirding me out.  I mean, I have a lot of weirdo stuff happening right now.  I've called my doctor twice in the last 2 days. 

Wednesday night I was having Braxton Hicks contractions.  They told me to call if I ever had more than 4 in an hour.  If I just sat there and did nothing, I didn't have any, but if I stood up, I would instantly have one.  I don't know about you, but I have to stand up to go anywhere or get anything done.  And I definitely have to stand up to walk to the bathroom to pee every 10 minutes.  So I wasn't sure what to do.  So I waited it out and luckily they haven't been as bad since.  Maybe I just overdid it that day?  Who knows.

Now I'm having some other issues that I'm sure you don't care to know about and I don't care to tell.  But I had to call the doctor again and leave a message for the nurse in reference to my vagina.  If you've never left somebody a message about your vagina, you should give it a try.  It's pretty much impossible not to stammer and say uh, um, and clear your throat 5 times. 

Next up, my bowels.  Yeah, my bowels.  Skip this paragraph if you don't want to know.  Pregnancy fucks up your pooping schedule.  I've had a rough go of the poo the last few days and today (at work of course) finally got sweet relief.  I think the whole building might have heard me exclaim "HOORAY FOR POOPING!!!"  I wonder if I could incorporate that into a Christmas song. 

Yay ICLW!

Well it's ICLW time again.  I've taken the last few months off because in July, I got pregnant.  So, if you're not into reading pregnant blogs, I totally understand and won't be offended if you click away right now.

If you are willing to take a peek, then you will see that even though my fertility struggle seems to be over, it was 3 long years of miscarriages, doctors, crying and lots of sex for sure.  I'm still seeing the doctors, just to keep me on the straight and narrow and every once in awhile I give it up to my husband now, but it's nothing like the hump fest we had for 3 years.

I'm due in April and at this point I look like I have a beer belly (well, because I do) and I also seem to be farting a lot.  It's fun and exciting and slightly foreign since it has been 7 years now since my first bebe.  I still haven't bought a thing for this pregnancy because somewhere, my infertile recurrent miscarrying self is still rearing her ugly head and not letting me believe in it.  I hope to get there soon, but in the meantime, I'm still feeling a little pessimistic and A LOT scared. 

P.S.  Even though this post doesn't make it evident, I say fuck a whole lot and also yell at ignorant slut bags and morons even more.

Everything's Not Fine

Everything IS fine with the baby.

Everything is not fine with my brain.  I've dealt with some depression issues before and it seems like I'm dealing with some now.

I didn't even realize it until one of my good friends told me yesterday that she was diagnosed with post-partum depression.  She told me all the causes and her symptoms.  I started laughing (at myself not her) and asked her if you could have PPD while you are still pregnant.  And well, yes, you sure can.

My next doctor appointment is Monday so I'm planning on discussing it with her.

Nothing about this pregnancy is the same.  Nothing.

Size 10 Update

So all my jeans suck.  Ok maybe not all of them, but the ones I tend to put on every day because they are comfortable... they seem to be getting holes in them where nobody wants to see holes.  And every day when I put them on, I think to myself, "I hope these jeans don't tear today when I bend over.  If they do tear, which they are totally going to, then I just hope it is when I'm getting in my car or someplace non-embarrassing like that."  (Side note, it took me 4 tries to spell embarrassing right.  2 R's and 2 S's.  Who knew?)

So I decided to bite it and go spend the last dollars in my checking account on some new jeans.  I'm 5'10, size 12, with a 35 inch inseam, so jean shopping is somewhat like torture chambers in Tudors England for me.  Ok ok it's not like getting quartered, but it really really sucks.

I went to Amer.ican Ea.gle because they do sometimes have long jeans and they are about half the price of the jeans I normally buy at The Bu.ckle.  And get this.

I found 2 pair that fit.

They were a size 10 long.

They were buy one get one half off. 

That, my friends, is the most epic jeans buying story in the history of my jean shopping LIFE.  Please don't tell me if AE jeans run big or something because I don't care.  I tried on a size 10 and they zipped up easily.  The girl in the store even told me to get a size 8 because they stretch so much.  I love her for saying that but considering my current sitch, I decided size 10 was blissful enough.

Torture

I can't make a decision, like ever.

The other night my husband actually told me that he feels sorry for me when I have to make a decision because I just agonize over it forEVER.

And I really do.  I'll feel like I've made up my mind, think some more, and then change it again.

So remember how I picked up a 2nd job?  And then remember how I found out I'm pregnant?  Well now some more analysis has occurred and I'm worried about the stress I am putting on my body by waking up at 3 a.m. and working for 12-14 hours straight.

Insert sleepless night, stomachache from worrying, and worrying because I am worrying too much.

Finally I asked Hubs to just decide for me.  He is sometimes quite the genius and said, "What do you want?  Like long-term?"

I want to be a good mom to my son, pick him up and drop him off at school, and when I get my baby, I want to breast feed and cuddle and take naps with her all day.

Nowhere in this sentence did I mention ANYTHING about either one of my jobs.

So I tearfully called my boss tonight to tell her that I need to quit the program and I hope they won't hold me to the year contract I signed since I'm still in the training phase.  Also cried a little about how I hope the company will welcome me back when I am in a better position to be employed by them.  (I had told her earlier about my situation and she told me to think it over and call her later.)

Ok I left her a voicemail.  I'm a wuss.

I hope I can just move on and not over-analyze the decision.

It's best for my family.  It's best for my family.  It's best for my family.

A Few Things

1 - Sometimes I just want to eat at Wendy's.  But only if it's during a rush because I know the fries will be fresh.  Dirty greasy old Wendy's french fries shouldn't even be able to call themselves fries.  They are that bad.  Delicious, fresh, salty new Wendy's fries move my lard ass a little closer to heaven every time I eat one.  Especially when dipped into a chocolate frosty.

2 - Day 3 of my new job training, which P.S. is mandatory, and my son is a puking mess all day and my mom ends up in the ER.  They are both ok, but nothing like some mommy guilt when I'm trying to focus on some chemistry terms I've never heard of before and imaging my sweet, poor little boy sick at home without his mommy.  As if dad will do.  (He totally did do, but I like to think otherwise.)

3 - I have to be at the hospital at 4:45 am for morning rounds.  Um, yeah, 4:45 AM.  That's 4:45 in the morning.  If you've ever stayed in a hospital, you know that this is the time they like to wake you up to run all sorts of tests.  I used to just think that it was because they did an early morning shift change and those nurses wanted to get the fuck home.  Turns out there's actually a medical reason for it.  Who knew.

Hope you all are doing well!  I'm trying to keep up on my favorite blogs but haven't done a stellar job so far.  This 2 job business might not be for me.  Giving it 2 more days to decide.

Unfunny but Existing Post

Dear Blog,

I have missed you so!!  I have been so busy over the last few days and will be working 60 hour weeks for the next 6 weeks.  I am also missing my bed, my son, my sanity and my free time.  But I promise not to desert you totally.  I will be back to write short, stupid and unfunny posts like this one.

In other news, I am physically and mentally torturing myself right now by watching Teen Mom on MTV.  Farrah is a huge cunt face, Amber is certifiably a nut job, and Catelynn and Maci are somewhat tolerable.  I can't tell you why I watch this piece of shit show but it's like a train wreck.  Maybe these bitches should just give me their babies and when they ask why they were adopted, I can just show them some footage of the show.

The End.

GAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG

The last thing you need to read right now is another rant about pregnant people's fucking FB comments.

Well too bad.  Deal with it.  Dick.

I have, oh, I don't know, about 2 thousand friends on facebook that are pregnant.  Ok, ok, I'm exaggerating.  But there are alot.  Like alot-alot.  I'm in an area of the country where women try to poop out as many kids as they can in their lifetime.  It's not uncommon for people to have 4, 5, 6 or even more kids in my neck of the woods.  So pretty much everyone my age is pregnant.  With like their 4th kid.

Luckily my real life friends are too self-centered and alcoholic to be those kind of moms, but my FB friends are NOT.  They go to church and watch the news and read Rachael Ray magazines.

But I digress.  I just think when the time comes for me to be pregnant, I would never post something like "Yay!  Week 18!  Grow baby grow!!"

Sorry, I just threw up in my mouth a little.

I might say stuff like "It's about fucking time Universe! WTF mate?"
Or possibly "I'm finally pregnant bitches, bring on the gifts!  (and the cake!)"
Maybe I'll just be the TMI girl who says stuff like "Haven't pooped in 5 days.  Thanks hormones!"

You want to be my FB friend now don't you?

Shoulda Coulda Woulda

When I was in high school, I had a boyfriend on and off for pretty much all of it.  We'd break up every few months, mostly because he had been my only boyfriend and even though I loved him, I knew that it wasn't realistic that we would stay together forever and I didn't want to spend my prime dating years NOT DATING.

At the time, I was still confused about what religion meant in my life and if I even really believed in any of it.  I was going to a Christian church and the big push was "True Love Waits."  They even had commitment ceremonies with your parents where you wore a wedding ring on your left hand that said that and the promise was that you would wait until you got married before having sex.

Uh huh.

Well the good news is that it worked on me for about 2 years.   My boyfriend and I held off on (most) things and were pretty good kids really.

And then we broke up.  For real.

So THIS, ladies, THIS is the time that I felt it might be appropriate to have S-E-X for the first time.  Oh no, not during the 2 fucking years that we were actually TOGETHER.  He was even dating another girl already.  What the hell?

I mean seriously, I could have been banging my little brains out all during high school with a boy that I LOVED, and instead I waited til we broke up.


This is how I feel about getting pregnant.  I had my son when I was 25 so I guess I spent some of my prime fertile years having A baby, but the rest of the time I spent trying NOT to get pregnant.... WASTED.

It's like rain on your wedding day.  Or 10,000 spoons when all you need is a knife.

Another Day

So another birthday party last night.  It was fun and great and super laughy and all.

A friend of mine tried for 7 years to get pregnant with her 2nd child.  She was luckily successful last year and now has a 7 week old baby.  She brought her to dinner.  Everyone was passing the baby around and cooing and kissing her.  It was very sweet.

And so so sad.

I am so happy for this friend of mine, OBVIOUSLY.  I just had the slightest twinge of jealousy, which doesn't usually happen to me.  I most often find myself cooing along with the others, making funny faces and breathing in that delicious baby smell.

I'm not sure why I was struggling.  Maybe it was because I wasn't feeling well and didn't have the energy to be positive.  Maybe it was because I'm (still) on my period, which is like cycle 30-something.

Or maybe I'm turning into a bitter old hag who can't be trusted around small children.  I'll be the friend who you're afraid to let hold your baby because I might caress it Lenny-style or put it in my trunk and run away with it.


On the optimistic side of not being pregnant, the sushi was divine.

Might as Well be a 900 Number

I called my doctor yesterday to discuss the next steps.  As I've said before, he wants me to take a 2 month break from meds and we had discussed possibly doing a laparoscopy.  So they said I could do a phone follow-up rather than coming in to the office for one.  The call lasted 24 minutes and since it's still considered a follow up, I will have to pay the $60 copay and my insurance will have to pay, oh I don't know, like, their 1st QUARTER REVENUES.

Damn, doctors are greedy bastards.

Anyway, we decided against the lap (woo hoo!) and I am just going to give them a call after this cycle and talk about possibly trying femara and fsh.

Or my acupuncturist is going to prove that those old Asian dudes really knew what they were talking about for the past 3000 years.  That would be fun.

Oh yeah and my RE is Asian.  So that would be double fun.

I feel like these statements might be borderline racist or something.

But they're not, fuckers  Stop being so damn sensitive.

How I Make My Life More Difficult Than it Needs to Be

You know how I told you I'm lucky and get to work part time?  Well today I have gone ahead and made my life more difficult for myself.  I'm a fucking idiot.

I have been considering going to nursing school for the past couple of years.  I have put it off a number of times thinking I would have a newborn by yester-year.  About a year ago, I applied for a phlebotomy training program through the local big hospital system.  It's an entry level job and it doesn't pay DICK but since I have been an accountant for the past decade, I figured I would have to start somewhere.

So kinda forgot about this job til they called me last month for an interview.  I figured I might as well check it out and long story short, I got the f-ing job.  I say f-ing job because now I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK TO DO.  It pays so little that I can't afford to quit my other part time job (which also has benefits.)

So I have decided to do both.  What the fuck?

I just can't seem to turn it down because like a GAZILLION people applied for it (ok 525 people) and only TEN were hired.  The company is willing to let me be on call and only work 12 hours a pay period after the initial training period.

The problem is the initial training period is 40 hours a week for 6 weeks.

So now I have committed to doing the training program and still working my other job, which is 24 hours a week.

How will I ever do this you ask?

Ummmm yeah, OBVIOUSLY I have no fucking clue.

I keep telling myself that it's only 6 weeks and then I will have a job in the medical field to get my feet wet and a toe in the door.  If I decide to switch eventually they offer benefits for 24 hours a week including tuition reimbursement.

But then I also keep telling myself that I'm going to want to shoot myself in the eye after 3 days of this.

So, in true BU fashion, I keep over-analyzing it.  I'm an accountant, what can I say?

Er, fuck, I'm a phlebotomist or something.

Advice?