Living Large

I am already a HOUSE at just 16 weeks. I already get a sore back and sore joints sometimes. I get out of breath fairly easily - sometimes for no apparent reason. Sometimes it feels like the baby is pushing up on my stomach and I can't eat (though you'd never know it by my appearance). And I haven't even hit the four month mark!!! I am afraid, seriously afraid of where I am headed. I have BIG boobs and my stomach has almost outgrown them. This could get ugly...

I was going to post the 16 week picture of when I was pregnant with Ruby but I look so much smaller and younger and less... matronly, that I didn't want to shame myself any further.

Merry Christmas

Ruby is tight with Santa this year. He asked her for a high five and she gave him one so she's pretty sure she's going to get everything on her list. We hope that you all get everything on your list too - if not at Christmas than sometime in 2010.

Merry Christmas!

Starting over

I got Ruby into a new daycare. She starts in January. My fingers are crossed that it is going to work out for her. I think it might. When the woman met Ruby she started talking to her and Ruby gave her a big grin and giggle. When I brought her into the daycare I plunked her onto the floor and she immediately dug into a bin of toys and started playing. There was another little girl there who was a bit older than Ruby and they actually started passing toys back and forth to each other. Such a miracle considering Ruby is so “poorly socialized”. *growl* Ruby was also handing toys to “P”, the new daycare lady. She had absolutely zero hesitation interacting with P. Of course, I was there but still, it just had a different feel from the first daycare.

P is a very calm, soothing, seemingly kind woman. I think Ruby liked her.

I liked her. We talked about the “issues” that the other daycare had with Ruby. P seemed horrified. She said that Ruby can have two naps a day if she wants and she can take them whenever she likes. She said that Ruby is at the age of having some separation anxiety and she has no problem giving her some extra attention if she is sad when I leave. She won't kick her out if she isn't fully adjusted within 5 days. She also won’t get annoyed if Ruby poops more than once a day. She currently only has 2 other children in her care so she will be spread less thin than the other bitch who had 5.

The place isn’t the fanciest. The house is old and the daycare area hasn’t been updated in some years. I’m sure this would turn some people away. But I found it to be clean and Ruby was quite comfortable there. And sometimes it’s the heart that’s more important. In this case, it certainly is. It’s a little more expensive than the last daycare as well and she doesn’t provide any snacks. But if it’s a place where Ruby feels comfortable and happy and is well cared for then that’s all ok with me.

For the remainder of the month Ruby is being bounced from friend to grandparent to grandparent, and I have modified my work hours somewhat to make things work.

The past two weeks have been an extremely stressful time and I’ve really struggled. On one hand it’s a good thing that this happened during the Christmas season because people have been able to look after her due to being on Christmas holidays – but on the other hand it’s been a bitch trying to deal with Ruby’s birthday, the basement tenants (who are gone now but left some “issues” behind), trying to get into a groove with returning to work, and uh… oh yeah, CHRISTMAS and all that goes along with trying to prepare for that. Throw in there that I’m now 15 weeks pregnant and I’m just so totally exhausted both mentally and physically. I vowed that I was going to enjoy my Christmas this year but it’s been hard to get into the spirit with all that’s been going on.

Tomorrow is my last day of work this week and I only work 3 days next week. I’m hoping the extra time off will help to relax and rejuvenate me. And I have my fingers crossed that January lives up to it’s reputation for being the perfect time to get a fresh start. A fresh new start is just what we need.

Birthday Clone

Ruby's birthday was over a week ago and I never did post any pictures.

So just for fun... here are pictures comparing me on my first birthday and Ruby on hers.

Proof

I got my proof today that the problem was the care provider and not Ruby.

I took Ruby to my girlfriend’s house this morning. She ever so kindly offered to take her. She has a little guy who is only a couple of hours older than Ruby. Oh how I worried about this. I knew that she would be in great hands, but I worried that Ruby would have a day-long meltdown and refuse to nap and be the demon that the daycare lady said she was. I worried that by the end of the day my girlfriend would be frazzled and never want to see Ruby or me ever again.

However… I dropped her off this morning and she apparently cried a bit when I left. But she was given some TLC and her soother and within a few minutes she flung her soother across the room and started playing with the toys. Then an hour later she crawled over to her bag and pulled out her blanket and started rubbing her eyes, so M (the good M – my girlfriend, not bad M – daycare lady) laid her down and she had a nap (WHAT??? Allowing her to nap when she needs it??? What a concept!) She got up an hour or so later and started playing with M’s little guy. Not antisocial whatsoever. I’ve had little updates throughout the day and it sounds like Ruby is having a great day. I am so happy.

All she needed was someone to care for her and be gentle with her when she was feeling a little bit nervous. Although this is what I suspected, now I know the truth.

(Thanks so much, M. I owe you big.)

Done

Ruby was officially done at the daycare yesterday at 8:45am. When I dropped her off she was clawing away from M. I don’t blame her. That woman is a bitch and I am seriously disappointed in how she handled things.

So I came to work, discussed the situation with my boss who told me, “Go get her. You don’t leave your kid with someone like that.”

I called ahead to let M know that I was coming to get Ruby and she wouldn’t be coming back and that I would like a refund for the remaining days of the month (she hesitated but agreed to refund me). When I got to M’s house 20 minutes later, she had Ruby’s bags packed and a cheque sitting by the door for me.

When I first got there she was holding Ruby on her hip. Ruby didn’t see me at first but I saw her. She had a blank, distant, sad stare on her face. THAT is not my daughter. She is happy and funny and giggly and smart. THAT broke my heart. I KNOW something is not right with the way M treated her.

And when we left and M was saying goodbye to Ruby, I swear to you Ruby glared at her. She would not smile whatsoever. She just glared. I’ve never seen her do that before.

And minutes after I got her in the car she was fast asleep - which broke my heart (again) because obviously just being there was taking a lot out of her.

My theory? Ruby had to get up early on the day she started daycare so she was probably tired to begin with. Then M refused to let her nap until the “scheduled” time at 11:30 – which she tells me is when all the kids nap for 2.5 hours (and she gets her precious break). I think Ruby was probably overtired by that point and couldn’t do much more than cry. I think that M didn’t appreciate Ruby cutting into her break and got frustrated and probably mean to her. (Yes, I do think she was mean). Ruby would pick up on this and it would upset her even more, perpetuating a bad mood into a bad situation.

And somewhere along the line one of the kids bit her hard enough to leave their dental impression on her leg for a week. That can’t have made Ruby feel great about the other kids. Also, M had no idea that this happened… which kinda bugs me.

After that, I’m sure Ruby was nervous and sensed the frustration with M. It just made things worse and worse and worse. Ruby didn’t like it there and she didn’t like M. And as far as I’m concerned M did nothing to make it better. As far as I’m concerned she didn’t do her job.

She even had the nerve to complain to me one day that Ruby had pooped 3 times. She was really annoyed by that.

I am so glad to have her out of there. I’ve got some help for the next few days from my mom and my girlfriend and Steve to take care of her while I search for someone to take her in January.

I just worry about finding another place. I worry about finding somewhere/someone good. Clearly I fucked up the first time. I don’t want to make the same mistake. I swear this woman came across as a very kind, loving, fun, compassionate caregiver – and I was so so so wrong about her. I am doubting my instincts now and haven’t started looking for a new place yet because I’m scare of putting her in the wrong place again. Especially on such short notice. I know though, that the longer I put it off, the harder it will get. I really have to get on it soon. There’s just so much stress weighing my heart and my brain down right now, I want to be feeling fresher and sharper before I go ahead with my new daycare search.

What does a nervous breakdown feel like???

When I went to pick up Ruby today at daycare, M avoided eye contact with me for the first few minutes and busied herself with tidying the room. When I finally locked eyes with her I asked, wearily, how the day went. She told me there was little to no improvement.

And then she said, "I give her til friday to make some improvement and if there is none by then, you'll have to find someone else to look after her."

Fuck if the tears didn't start rolling down my cheek right then. I couldn't help it but I hated myself for it.

She told me that she just can't handle it that Ruby's not adjusting. She's only happy when M is holding her and M has other kids to care for so she can't hold her all the time. And Ruby doesn't want to nap when she's there. She only napped for 20 minutes today.

After she blithered on about this or that thing that Ruby did that was so crappy she then said to me, "You know what the worst part is??? I work a 10 1/2 hour day and I'm not getting a break!"

Well, I'm so sorry for you. I pay her $650 per month to take care of my little girl. She's got a total of 5 kids so she's making some good cake to miss a couple of breaks. Ruby's gone there a total of 5 days and she's already asking me not to bring her back. Is 5 days enough time for a baby to adjust to something so new? Has she never had a baby that needed time and maybe a little extra attention to get used to the new arrangement before? Seriously, what the fuck?

And so I am a wreck right now. It took me months to find this daycare. I researched and looked around until I found what I thought was the perfect daycare. Now I'm supposed to find a new place within a week? While I'm working full time? Oh I'm sure there's loads of openings on such short notice. And I don't want to just drop her off somewhere that I know nothing about just because they have an opening. I need to try to find her a good, kind, caring place that is going to understand and help her with her separation anxiety.

I really don't know what I'm going to do. Crying my eyes out certainly isn't going to find me a daycare, but it seems that that's all I can do right now.

Struggle

So much going on right now. The stress level is somewhat “elevated”. I’m struggling. I’m overloaded. I’m pretty sure I’m depressed.

Work has pretty much smoothed out. Maybe too much. It’s gotten easy and I’m usually done “work” by noon, with nothing left to fill my afternoon. It drives me crazy. I’d like to be busy. Sitting here watching the clock tick is not my idea of a good time.

Ruby hates daycare. It’s been baaaad. And that makes me feel baaaaad. And if I’m going to be honest, I don’t like the way M (daycare lady) is handling it. When I picked Ruby up on Friday she said, “I hate to tell you this but today was the WORST day yet. Worse than her first day. And I am exhausted!” I picked up a hint of her being pissed off about it. She then went on to tell me that Ruby refuses to nap and it’s causing the other kids not to nap because she cries and wakes them up. She also told me that the other baby that’s there never cried and now that Ruby’s crying all the time she cries too. She also suggested that I haven’t socialized her enough around other kids because when the other kids go near her she cries. She said when she puts on music the other kids dance and Ruby cries.

I cannot help but to take this personally. I have done my best to be the best mother that I can possibly be. Ruby is obviously having a hard time adjusting to spending the day with strangers and I don’t know how I could have better prepared her for it. Should I have started dropping her off at the mall for a few hours each week and let her hang out there on her own??? You know, get her used to being in a strange place with strange people? She’s a fucking BABY for crying out loud! When do I leave my baby with strangers???

When I picked Ruby up on Friday she had dried snot on her face and when she saw me she started frantically signing “milk”. When I got her home I looked in her bag and I saw that the morning bottle that I send with her was still in there. She hadn’t been fed it. She has other smaller bottles there so I’m hoping she got one of those. But this morning I wasn’t going to take a chance so I fed her the bottle before we left. I mentioned this to M when we got there this morning and she got all defensive saying that she feeds her right away in the morning and her problem isn’t hunger. She “guarantees” it. I then mentioned to her that Ruby had a bite mark on her leg and that perhaps that’s why she cries when the other kids come near her. She got all defensive and said none of the kids that go there are biters… Maybe she fell on a toy. A horseshoe shaped toy the same size as a kid’s mouth with little notches all around it. Maybe they play with false teeth.

I also talked to her about Ruby having just spent the weekend around other kids and she was fine. She’s very social. She said that was just because I was there. Well, I was “there” but I wasn’t sitting beside her holding her hand. I was busy doing other things in the house.

She then went off about her university degree in child psychology and Ruby’s problem isn’t hunger or anything else other than she misses me during the day and can’t adjust to being around new people. Well then I wish she wouldn’t suggest that I didn’t socialize her properly or tell me how disruptive she is to the other kids or how “EXHAUSTED” she is after looking after Ruby all day. Because I pay her a LOT of money to do this job. And she has a “university degree”. And she’s done this for 8 years. So suck it up lady and help make my kid comfortable. And quit fucking making me feel bad! (or is that just me making myself feel bad?)

There has been a bunch of other stuff going on too. Like it was Ruby’s birthday on Sunday and we had a little birthday party for her. Steve’s family showed up two hours late. The rest of us tried to wait around to open gifts and have cake but in the end I said Fuck It and went ahead without them all. It was frustrating and put a gray cloud over the party.

And our fucked up, weirdo, asshole tenants moved out of our basement on Sunday morning as well. I’ve never been so happy to see the back end of someone. It was a super stressful morning though – particularly when Steve nearly came to blows with their “moving guys” (stoners with tattoos on their faces, reeking of pot). This also put a “tone” on our day. Not to mention the money we now need to spend to have the carpet professionally cleaned and Steve has to do some repairs to a broken door. I still don’t feel like the place is all mine yet. Renting out my basement was one of the biggest mistakes I’ve made in a while.

And Christmas is creeping up and I haven’t been able to get stuff done. We don’t even have a tree yet. I haven’t done all my shopping. Thinking about it makes my head want to explode.

I guess everything else wouldn’t be such a big deal if everything was ok with Ruby. She’s my number one concern and it rips my heart out to know that she’s having a rough go of it. But put it all together and I’m fucking fucked. I just want to cry my eyes out. The past few nights I’ve done just that but not until Ruby’s gone to bed, the dishes are done, the house is clean, lunches are made, dinner for the next night is planned and a load of laundry is in the washer. Shit still has to get done.

I know there's bigger, badder worse things going on in the world but in my little world this shit is tearing me down.

Not off to a good start

Daycare was a bust. Ruby cried all day and refused to nap and therefore prevented the other kids from napping. She clung to the daycare lady all day and hung from her pant leg when she wasn't being carried. This is so out of character for my girl - she's so independent. Breaks my heart.

I got yelled at at work yesterday. Yes, because apparently I am five years old. My boss was helping me figure out which printer was which and when I realized that I sent my print jobs to the broken printer, I went to clean out that print queue and she yelled at me and flipped out thinking I might delete some important print job of hers. Except I don't have her print jobs in my print queue - and each job is clearly labeled with my name and the time that I sent the print job to the printer. Then she felt dumb and stomped out of my office.

I don't have a lunch today because I didn't have the fucking energy to do fuck all when I finally got home last night. Guess I'm buying lunch today. And maybe a cup of coffee while I'm at it... the coffee tastes like it is directly filtered in from the sewage treatment plant that is just down the street from my new office. The air is lovely here...

Today has to be better. It has to be...

The end of an era

I go back to work tomorrow. After having a whole year off.

Everything has changed with my job - including location, office, bosses, coworkers and the actual work itself. And the only person who knows how to do my job resides halfway across the country and her boss doesn't feel that it's necessary to fly her out here to retrain me.

Awesome.

One good thing is that Mondays are Steve's regular day off. So at least on my first day back I don't have to worry about daycare and all that shit. I can save that for my second day.

I feel like tonight is dragging on forever. Like I've got something looming over my head and I just want to get there and deal with it so I can feel better but time is dragging and I just have nothing to do but sit here and think about shit.

Of course there's lots I SHOULD be doing to get ready for tomorrow - like figure out what to wear, do laundry, make my lunch, get Ruby's daycare bag ready for Tuesday... but... ugh... the anxiety, it paralyzes me a bit.

And it's nothing that I won't tackle and deal with and kick ass at... no, I know I'll do fine. It's just the anticipation of it all. It's the contemplating how my life is so drastically going to change overnight. Literally.




Also, my heart is heavy for Cece. If you haven't already, go visit her and give her some love and support. She is dealing with the unimaginable right now.

Turning the corner

Can you believe I'm almost in the 2nd trimester? I'm now 12 weeks pregnant. (I'll actually consider myself to be in the 2nd trimester when I hit 13 weeks.) That went really fast. I guess that's because I have a load of other things on my mind and being pregnant isn't the foremost thing in my mind like it was the first time. Now I have a little girl to look after and she takes up most of my brain power. Not to mention getting ready to return to work, getting prepped to take her to daycare, thinking about her 1st birthday, Christmas, etc.

It's actually kind of nice to have the distractions so I don't obsess too much.

I'm feeling much better about the pregnancy now. Once again, it's not that I ever regretted becoming pregnant, it was just hard for me to get my head wrapped around something that I was convinced would never happen. I had worked hard to accept that fact. A doctor told me once that we covet and make a life out of what we have. So true. I thought Ruby was going to be an only child and so I worked hard at making that a very cool thing. I made myself accept that that was going to be our life and I made myself ok with it. Even though we did want more kids, it seemed that it wasn't in the cards. And why torment myself thinking about something that I believed I would never, could never have?

So the surprise was a big one and it was a lot to digest.

But I think I'm there now. Or getting very close to being there. Being able to talk to a few really close friends about my situation sure helped. And a chat with my midwife also really helped. She told me that what I am feeling is completely normal. That even fertile women who PLAN their second pregnancies feel a little bit detached in the beginning. Go figure.

I stepped on the scale this morning and I've only gained 6lbs. By this time when I was pregnant with Ruby I had gained 10. Actually, more than 10 if you count in the IVF 3 or 4 before I even got pregnant. That made me happy. Just not sure why I LOOK like I've gained 20lbs. I'm trying not to worry about that though, I'm just happy that my weight gain so far is 40% less than last time.

I've also officially let the cat out of the bag. Everyone I've told has been really excited and really supportive. That feels good. It feels good to not keep this big secret inside me. Everyone's happiness and excitement is very uplifting.

And so I soon move into the 2nd trimester. Feeling better about myself and about my life. Looking forward to the rest of this pregnancy.

Scary

I had a midwife appointment today. And I got to hear the baby's heartbeat. It made me so happy. It made it more real and it made me excited and it was just what I needed. I even recorded it on my blackberry to play back later for Steve. It was the best feeling to be able to hear that pretty little helicopter sound (160bpm).

Then when I was driving home I got into a car accident. A semi-truck drove into the lane I was in causing the car in front of me to stop abruptly. I couldn't quite get my car stopped before I rear ended that car in front of me. Of course the semi-truck drove away (Fucker!!!). Of course because I was the poor bastard at the end of the line, I will be the one to pay. The car I hit just had a few little scratches in the bumper but you know this guy is heading straight to his buddy's body shop to have the whole car overhauled at my expense.

Ruby was with me and she cried for about 10 seconds and then stopped. I think it was just the loud bang that scared her. I checked her out and she's totally fine. I think I'm fine too but of course bad thoughts run through a girl's head. When I finally got home I thought I was having some weird tummy troubles and I was sure that something terrible had happened and that I was going to lose Junior. But now that I've had a nap and am more rational, I'm pretty sure it was just gas.

In any case, I'm going to spend the day relaxing and I won't be straining myself by doing any housework or cooking any dinner.

I'm sure that this was the Universe's way of telling me to keep it real. "Don't get too excited about anything, bitch because I can take it all away from you anytime I like."

Eye Opener

I return to work in a week and a half. In preparation, I took Ruby to visit her daycare today to get her used to the place before she's there four days a week.

This is the daycare that I fell in love with, that was run by the nicest sweetest lady who is about my age and who was great with the kids. She was warm and friendly and I felt so good about taking Ruby there.

Well, she's still all that but it wasn't quite all fluff and love today. When she found out that Ruby still takes two naps a day she advised me that that was soon to stop because all her daycare kids nap at the same time - noon. No exceptions.

She also lectured me a bit about Ruby's eating habits when I told her Ruby doesn't eat much. I told her the doctor said it was nothing to worry about and she told me that yeah, doctors will say that. But that I needed to keep offering her different foods or else she would one day be nine and only eat 10 things like her friend's kid. Except that I do offer her different foods. And she eats them. Just only a few bites and then she's bored with it or uninterested or whatever. It's not that she doesn't like the food - so don't go making assumptions. Thank you.

She also has a big fluffy dog that wasn't present when I went to view the daycare the first two times. I mean, I'm totally ok with Ruby being around a dog - in fact I'd like her to grow up around animals, it's just that he was laying in the middle of the room, amongst the toys and he smelled a little bit doggy. I could see that he's obviously fantastic with kids and I have no worries about Ruby's safety, it's just that... he's a big, fluffy, slightly smelly dog, laying in the middle of the toys... I don't know. I just didn't know he was part of the package.

Oh, and when I left she gave me a calendar for the month of December noting all the days that the daycare is closed. What the fuck am I supposed to do on those days? Seriously. What do people do? I'm totally new to this.

I know that all of this is pretty minor stuff and I still feel good about the daycare. I think I was just a little bit sensitive going in. I thought I would be totally ok with it because I feel ready and I think Ruby is ready, but I started getting a bit fluttery in the chest and I got tears in my eyes a couple of times, thinking about the adjustments we are going to make. And so with the nap comment and the eating comments... just... bah.

On the bright side, Ruby really seemed to like it there. She was interested in the other kids and she liked the different toys and she was all chatty and moving around the room and probably forgot that dear old Mom was even there at all.

We go back next week for another visit before she starts going full time on December 8th. I can see that this is not going to be as easy as I thought or hoped it would be. I'm a big fucking sensitive wuss right now.

Big First

Ruby took her first unassisted steps tonight.

She's been walking around while holding onto furniture for a while but tonight she let go of the furniture and took a couple of steps on her own.

Wow. I am amazed at how special this is to me and how amazing it feels. One year ago I didn't have a clue how cool and rewarding this life would be.

New Perspective

The first trimester can be a very lonely place. Especially if you are experiencing an unexpected pregnancy and are trying to find your way. It is difficult to figure out how your life is going to look when you suddenly find out it's not at all going to be what you thought. (Particularly if you are a planner and a control freak, like myself) I feel happy and excited and elated over being pregnant "naturally", however there are a lot of other factors that make it hard to just enjoy that happiness and excitement. And while we want/need to keep it a secret for the first 3 months, nobody knowing and having nobody to talk to can make it seem like you're all alone with your troubles.

I have written a few posts lately, talking about some of the things that I have had difficulty with. Some of the stuff I'm trying to process and figure out. I understand that it is hard for some people to comprehend my feelings. I wanted to clarify (again), that I am not ungrateful or unhappy in any way for the gift I have been given, I am just trying to work out my feelings surrounding it. Please don't mistake my recent posts for anything other than that.

That being said, I wanted to mention that after talking to a few very wise women lately, I have been able to process some stuff and am feeling better today than I have in a long time.

In regards to my job and my career - a good friend reminded me that I am just coming off maternity leave and it would be natural for me to be excited to go back to work. And perhaps I have romanticized it somewhat - thinking of dressing up, drinking coffee, chatting around the water cooler, doing my job. But as she reminded me, I'm very lucky because after about 6 months I am going to be tired of all the bullshit once again and I will be happy to have another break! Probably true. And a co-worker friend pretty much reaffirmed that last night. Things are not all rosy, people are assholes, there are lots of pot holes, the work isn't straight forward, the coffee tastes like shit, and my new boss is bi-polar. I'm sure 6 months will be plenty of time for me to get sick of work and be ready for maternity leave again. Also mentioned? I have options. I don't HAVE to take the whole year. I can also perhaps do some part time stuff, or some work from home stuff. Options, I have options. I like options.

In regards to my weight - I have been feeling depressed about the fact that while I lost the weight I gained with my first pregnancy, I was overweight to begin with and would have liked to lose a lot more before ever getting pregnant again. But a wise girlfriend put that in a different light for me... She told me that if I had lost the weight I wanted and then got pregnant again, I would be fucking PISSED that I did all that work and now I was going to get big and round again. And she's right. Oh I would be so upset if I had worked my ass off and got thin and then my body started growing again. Like she said, there would never have been a "perfect" time. So true! And so I will be relatively the same as I was with Ruby and when the baby is born, I am ALL done and I can work on improving myself without having to worry about if I'm ever going to do it again (I'M NOT!). I am looking forward to next summer when the baby is here and I can start working on me a little bit. Until then, I will just do my best to work with what I've got.

I cannot say how grateful I am for having such wise and wonderful women in my life. It has sure helped to lift my mood and give me other perspectives to look at. I feel at peace today, for the first time in a long time. I feel hopeful and positive and I hope that the feeling lasts.

Employment

I had my pre-return-to-work meeting today with my two new bosses (I'm back to work in 3 weeks). I've been thinking a lot about this meeting over the past few days (weeks), wondering just how I would handle it. I knew I wanted (needed?) to tell them my "situation", because for one - I think it's fair that they know ASAP that they only have me for 6 months (and then I'm on mat leave again for another year), and for two - I needed to get it off my chest.

I wanted to do it professionally and I wanted to feel strong and confident and I did not want to show one drop of weakness. So I went in today wearing black, pointed-toe stilettos and lipstick and I held an umbrella over my head to keep my hair dry from the rain.

I got a great vibe from my new bosses. They were really excited that I was coming back to work. They were told great things about me, my work ethic, my determination, my intelligence. They said I come very highly recommended from my previous boss (same company but different bosses due to reorganization). They talked about what my job was going to entail, and some new stuff that I was going to be taking on. I will also be working out of a different location, a bigger building, a bigger, nicer office.

And when we were done discussing all of that they asked if there was anything else we needed to talk about....

And that's when I dropped the bomb.

I know I didn't have to give them the details, but I felt that I owed them some sort of explanation. (Especially since the female boss looked at me like she had been slapped.) Things definitely softened up a bit once I explained the infertility and the past IVF cycles and our less than one percent chance of doing this the way we did. They were quite decent about it anyways. I told them that I realized, for an employer that this is not a great situation. They said that we just need to concentrate now on getting me back in the saddle and up to speed and we'd worry about the rest later. They said that's what contractors are for. They were very professional and somewhat compassionate. And I am grateful for that.

Still, I left there feeling a bit empty inside and a somewhat depressed. I really do enjoy my career and I really was looking forward to getting back at it - full force. I was looking forward to being respected for my strong work ethic and my brains and for how good I am at my job - and not just because I can change a mean diaper. Can anybody take me seriously in my position now? Or will everyone just be watching the calendar until I'm gone again? Will I be reluctant take on new projects, knowing I'm going to have to hand it off to someone in a few months? Can I really get comfortable there considering I'll be gone again in a mere six months?

This is harder than I thought it would be. I feel like I'm losing a bit of my identity.

My Vampire

Ruby bites. Hard. It hurts. She's left welts on me. I can't make her stop. She laughs at me when I cry out in pain. She laughs when I get mad at her. She laughs when I firmly grab her and tell her "NO". She laughs when I squeeze her cheeks and tell her to "STOP".

I have learned that she does it most when she is tired - whatever good that does me.

Suggestions?

Tattoo

I have a tattoo appointment this afternoon. I know that it's ok to get tattooed while pregnant - no ink goes into your bloodstream and it does not affect the baby in any way. But the last time I was pregnant my tattoo guy didn't want to tattoo me. Fair enough. So now I'm almost 9 weeks pregnant and I was just going to go in and get tattooed and not say anything. But I hate, hate, hate lying or being sneaky or deceitful about things. It makes me feel yucky inside. And my tattoo guy knows me on a bit of a personal level now. I've been going to him for over 5 years and we've become friends on some level. So I felt that I should tell him my "situation" and let him decide.

So I sent him an email this morning explaining. And I haven't heard back from him. THAT is the worst. Putting myself "out there", letting out some personal information and not getting a response. Just hanging in limbo, checking my email every 5 minutes. My appointment is in less than 2 hours. What if he doesn't respond before then? Do I go anyways and not say anything? Do I go and say something? WTF?

I hate shit like this.

I am ok either way with whatever he says. I don't really FEEL like going and getting tattooed today, and I don't exactly have money flowing freely - but on the other hand I desperately want to get my sleeve closer to finished. I just want it done, especially with what the next year or so is going to look like. I won't exactly have a lot of time to get tattooed.

Bleh, just babbling about what's on my mind at the moment, hoping to let it out and let it go and in turn not let things bother me so much.

~Updated~

He just emailed me back with probably the obvious - Wow, congrats! But no tattooing when preggo, ever :( :(

Then we chatted back and forth for a while and he was really cool about it - because he's a cool guy. I won't deny that I'm disapointed though. I almost wish I had just not said anything.

I'm going to sit here and have myself a selfish little cry and and then move on.

Self Esteem

My self esteem has not been at it's highest lately. I am overweight. My hair is short and I'm growing out a not-great cut. It's also been super greasy for some reason and impossible to style. The excessive belly fat that I seemed to obtain/retain when Ruby was born is now being pushed out by Junior in my belly, causing all my pants to give me the muffin top to conquer all muffin tops. My skin is dry on the forehead but I seem to be breaking out here and there with acne. I don't have a lot of clothes to begin with and the ones I do have look horrible on me right now with the belly fat issue. I want to get myself some new clothes but can't afford it and what's the point right now because they're just going to be too tight too soon anyways. I try to do my best to look nice, I do. But right now, I'm just not feeling like I look my best and it really bothers me (keeps me awake at night). I just want to feel attractive and pretty.

Last night my BIL and his girlfriend came over. I am (just now) getting my paperwork together to get my passport and I had my BIL's girlfriend (call her SIL for sake of ease) sign as my guarantor. I wasn't crazy about my passport photo and I knew I didn't look great in it but I figured nobody looks awesome in their passport photo anyways and there are bigger things to worry about in the world. Well, SIL took one look at the picture and WENT OFF about how horrible I look.

"Jesus, Tara. What the hell happened?? You look terrible! This looks like you just got out of jail or like you should be on Intervention or something."

Yeah I know it's not great.

"No it's TERRIBLE! You look like you got in a fight and someone ripped your extensions out. What the fuck happened to your hair???"

I don't know. I walked there, so I guess it got messed up a bit.

"That's really bad. One of the worst passport pictures I've ever seen."

Sooooo... you don't think I look pretty?

"Fuck no! You're going to get stopped at the border every time you try to cross because the border guards are going to think you are a drug dealer or a crackhead or something!!"

Awesome. Between her tirade and my MIL's recent comment about my pregnancy weight, I'm flying high right now. Do people not get that perhaps I might need a little support and encouragement right now instead of fucking tearing me down into little bits of worthlessness? It's like a sport to these people.

One

There is one, singular, solitary baby in my belly, and *he has a heartbeat.

This is exactly the outcome I was hoping for.

I hope that this helps me move forward in accepting this pregnancy - although keeping it out of my mind is kinda working for me for the time being. There's so far to go until the end, there's no point wasting a lot of brain power thinking too much about it right now. When I think too much about my future, I get all flustered and nervous and sooner or later I'm entrenched in a full blown anxiety attack. So for now I just try to keep my mind within the relatively immediate future - like, Ruby's 1st birthday is next month, and what ever will I get her and what will we do to celebrate, and also I return to work next month, and Ruby is going to start daycare next month, and how will I adjust to being a working mom?

Stuff like that causes enough anxiety on it's own without thinking of adding another human into the mix. So for now, I try to keep the slate as clear as possible.



*Obviously it's too early to tell the gender but I have had this feeling since day 1 that I am packing around a boy.

Not running

So running isn't happening for me. At least not on the regular basis that I wanted it to.

The only time that I am able to get out and run is in the morning before Steve goes to work. He leaves for work at around 7:30am. That means I need to be up at 6:30am and out the door by 6:45am. And right now I really, REALLY need that time for sleep. While I'm not feeling nearly as sick as I was with Ruby in the first trimester, I'm still feeling like crap. I'm tired, my tummy is really yucky and my sinuses are brutal.

So getting up to run at 6:30am is just not in the cards for me right now. Sadly. I am disappointed.

This past week was not a good one for me. I had some severe allergy attack and was a complete mess. I ate like shit because I couldn't get it together enough to cook a meal to save my life, and the weather was terrible so I couldn't leave the house and then Halloween, and the weekend and just... ugh! I feel like a big fat blob already.

This week I'm going to try to do things better (Tuesday is my Monday). I went to Costco yesterday and stocked up on groceries. And I think the weather is going to be better (so far so good). So I plan on making some decent meals this week and also I plan on getting out and walking as much as I can. I need to do something. Pushing a stroller is decent exercise and it's good for Ruby to get out too.

So that's my short term plan for this week. Hoping for a better week than last.

Bzzzz....

I had a blast with RuBEE on Halloween. We went "trick-or-treating" to my Mom and Dad's and then my BIL's during the day. She was such a good sport all day.

I got some fantastic pictures of her.

Ugh...

Morning sickness and pooey diapers do not mix.

That is all.

Thank you.

"Normal"

My beta came back as "normal". However, my doctor is sending me for an ultrasound next week just to confirm that there is only ONE little nutrient sucking freeloader in there and not TWO. Because Steve's grandmother had twins. And wouldn't that just be the icing?

In other news we've decided not to sell our house and/or move. Oh lord did I feel good after we came to that decision. I really would like to live closer to my mother but right now I just can not fathom the stress that showing/selling/looking/buying/moving would bring to my life. So we've committed to stay here for at least another year. We're going to take back the basement suite (which we currently have rented out) in the spring and make it more of a family area. We'll move the computer down there (I'm asking Santa for a laptop for Christmas anyways), and we're going to rename it the "granny suite" so that my mom is tricked into thinking that we set it up just for her and then she will feel obligated to come and stay more often. She is already talking about cutting back her hours at work. Staying put will also help us save some money, including the extra income from the suite for a little while longer.

*Deciding not to sell our house lifted a giant weight off my shoulders - even though this house really won't hold us forever. But for now, we'll make it work.

I'm still not quite "there" yet in terms of fully accepting this pregnancy - I know that's hard to understand for a lot of people but until you're walking in my shoes, please don't judge. It's a very strange place to be right now. I do feel that the "normal" beta helped a bit though. And I think the ultrasound will be another push in the right direction as long as it, too, comes back "normal".



*Yes, yes I know this is what many of you had already "advised" me to do. Please hold on to your "I-told-you-so's" though, as this is a decision that I had to come to myself.

Bullets

* Steve apparently spoke to his mother on Monday about her behavior on Saturday night. She says she didn't mean anything by the comment and it wasn't intended to hurt my feelings. She claims to have had no idea she did anything wrong. So typical. Steve told her that she really hurt my feelings - she doesn't understand why. I haven't heard word one from her since then. An apology? Not counting on it. Lift rug and sweep.

* Went for my beta yesterday morning. I wasn't sure how this thing works for regular folk - normally I would spend the afternoon with the phone attached to my hip, waiting for "the call" from "the clinic". So after hearing nothing I phoned my doctor's office and they told me that they don't give results over the phone and I needed to make an appointment to see the doctor to discuss the results. So I have an appointment for Friday. That seems like a long time to wait.

* Been experiencing the death hunger again. Not cool. Really hard to not gain a stack of weight when you feel like you might die from starvation every half an hour. I am thankful to not be as nauseous and sick as I was in the first tri with Ruby, but that sick, starving tummy is back. I almost threw up this morning from it.

* I got some healthy yet satisfying snacks on hand like low fat cottage cheese, hard boiled eggs, cereal and skim milk - so that when I get so hungry at least I've got something half assed healthy to snack on. And I've also decided to write down everything that I eat in hopes of keeping my food intake somewhat under control. Cuz you know that when I'm starving like that, it ain't for carrot sticks.

* Running has been really hard. I'm trying to stick to it (for the love of God, I'm only at 6 weeks!!!) but my endurance has really dropped in the past few days. It makes me frustrated and sad. I won't give up yet though. I'm hoping that if I stick to it, it will get better once the fatigue stage has passed.

* Ruby's been a bit difficult lately. She's really whiny and crying lots. It's hard right now because I feel like I haven't got the energy that I had a few weeks ago. I'm tired and blah and gross feeling. Some times when she's crying I cry too. I don't know what else to do. Some days I just can't seem to make her happy and it makes me feel like I'm not doing a good job as her mother right now. I can't help but wonder that if I was feeling better I would be able to handle her better.

* Steve's been totally kickass awesome lately. He's been helping out with Ruby a LOT. He doesn't have to be asked to change her diapers or help her when she's fussing. He lets me have a break when he's home. He's also been helping with dinner a lot. And the other day he even washed the floor... on his own... without being asked... Just awesome.

* Ruby is going to Grandma's house this weekend to give me a bit of a break. I am looking forward to going to the pub on Saturday afternoon and swilling a bunch of cold beers and eating chicken wings with blue cheese dip while watching the hockey game.

Oh... wait a minute... the above plan is currently under revision...

Some support, some cruelty

Our families now know.

We told them at a dinner party at my BIL and SIL's house on Saturday night. (Well, I told my mom last week and told my dad before we left for dinner.) Everyone was ecstatic. People were laughing and crying and hugging and kissing and it all felt very good.

Until we were later seated at the dinner table and my SIL asked if I wanted whipped cream on my pie. I said no because I really didn't want to gain 68lbs again, like I did with Ruby. And my MIL pipes up and says, "THAT'S HOW MUCH YOU GAINED!!!???" I said, "yes..." And he looked at me like I just told her I once murdered someone for twenty dollars. She raised her eyebrows and made a face of complete disgust and said, "Jeeeez..."

The room fell silent. My jaw dropped. I was so embarrassed and hurt. Nobody said a word. I just looked away and shook my head and said, "Unbelievable". (This from a woman living in a glass house, throwing those kinds of stones...)

Discomfort for all followed. My night was ruined. I was pissed that nobody stood up to her (including myself). Steve hugged me and said, "You looked beautiful when you were pregnant." Unfortunately not loud enough for her to hear.

I did write a post about it on my other blog, knowing that she reads/stalks that blog obsessively. It may have been a childish way to deal with the situation but it did bring me some satisfaction and comfort. I tried to do it as tactfully as possible. Whatever, it's not like anybody in this family is interested in dealing with these sort of things in an adult manner. I would know - I've tried going that route in the past with zero success.

Why she would choose a time like that to go for the jugular, I'll never know. I don't know what is wrong with her. She's an ignorant bitch and every time she does something like this, it just causes more and more permanent damage. I'll never forget the things she's said and done to me. This was a big one.

On the bright side of things - I'm pleased that my family is so happy and excited for us. I don't know why but I somehow expected a negative reaction.

Bring it on!

That's right. I can do this shit. Bring it.

Thanks so much for your supportive and encouraging comments and emails and phone calls that reinforce the notion that I will be able to pull this off. It's definitely not going to be easy but nothing that's worth anything ever comes easy. I, of all people, know that well.

I'm happy and excited for Ruby that she gets to grow up with a sibling. After all, that is what we had hoped for (we just never thought it would ever happen since I had vowed to never do IVF again).

Also, there will now be enough of us in this family to play card games on future Friday nights when we're too broke to leave the house.


Of note:

We ended up going to my BIL and SIL's last night instead of tonight. It was fine. I was given a beer and I had a sip or two from it and then when nobody was looking I had Steve slug it back. Ruby was a great diversion so nobody really noticed anything.

~~~

Our families are getting together for dinner tomorrow night. We're thinking of telling them then. We really need support and encouragement right now, and we're feeling kind of alone in the world with this secret. Besides, if *God forbid* anything go wrong with this pregnancy, we would need their support and would tell them then. So it might help us to tell them now. (Also then I wouldn't have to worry about fake-drinking beer.) I'm still really scared to tell anyone, even family, but I think it might be for the best. I'm still thinking this one through.

~~~

(Originally the title had 4 or 5 exclamation points but I scaled it back to one. Let's not get too carried away.)

Random thoughts

If I write them on my blog, will it help stop them from swirling around my head???

~I will have two children, 18 months apart.

~Two in diapers, two in car seats, two in strollers.

~My house isn't appropriate for a family of 4 (a family of 4!!). We will have to sell it and buy a different one - sometime within the next few months.

~If we are moving to a new house we are going to get one close to my parents. I am going to need all the help I can get and they currently live 45mins to an hour away.

~Moving closer to my parents will make a hell of a commute for Steve to get to/from work.

~Have a verbal agreement with the tenants in my basement suite that they would stay for a year. Not looking forward to letting them know that plans have changed.

~I return to work December 7th. I'm due June 16th. Only going back to work for six months. How *popular* will I be with my bosses? I'm guessing, not very.

~Not sure how I am going to survive on maternity leave wages for yet another year. We won't have enough time to get back on our feet from the first one.

~So very nervous about my beta next week.

~My car isn't going to cut it for a family of 4 either. And we currently only have the one vehicle.

~I never hid my first pregnancy at all. I'm keeping this one a secret for a while yet. Not sure how to do the not drinking thing at get togethers. I usually have a cocktail or two. How do I do this without giving anything away? Going to watch the hockey game at BIL and SIL's place tomorrow, and dinner there on Saturday and they're big cocktailers. I'm not, but I would normally have one or two. Not sure how to pull this off.

~I am at the same weight I was when Ruby was conceived. I do NOT want to gain 68lbs again.

~Went for a jog/walk this morning. Chicklet did it for 30ish weeks, I want to do it for a while too, as long as I can anyways.

~Steve has been awesome lately. Going the extra mile with Ruby, helping with dinners, helping with cleanup, etc. I hope he can keep it up. I will need all the help I can get.

~I just really need to hear that everything is going to be ok.

(I'm really scared.)

There's more, this is just all I can get out right now.

1%

Steve has 1% viable sperm. We were told that we had approximately a 1% chance of ever conceiving naturally.

A doctor confirmed today that I will be 5 weeks pregnant tomorrow. I go for a HCG beta next week. So different from getting here via IVF.

Still so early. Scared to death to be happy. Feel some guilt for Ruby. Feel some IF guilt.

Somewhat stunned silent.

Shock. Complete Shock.

My increased emotional state is not due to PPD.

My counselor was wrong about that, although I give her credit for figuring out that it is biologically caused. That, it is...

.

.

.

.

I am in complete and utter shock. I don't know what to say. I have a lot of things to work out in my head and in my life.

Unbelievable.

Not quite in the clear...

I thought I had it alllll figured out. I thought I had it allll together. I thought I was going to get through this first year unscathed. I was wrong.

Considering my lengthy history with depression and anxiety, I was at a super high risk for PPD. But it didn't happen. I felt so happy and full and complete and the PPD never seemed to catch up with me - until it did.

Well, there were all those terrible visions that I kept having about Ruby. I would think we were going to get hit by a car while walking or into a horrible car accident or mauled by a dog or fall down the stairs or, or, or... There were many of those vivid, VIVID visions and they happened every time I left the house. but I felt fairly safe inside my house. It was my safe place, my sanctuary. Where I was the Queen of the Castle. I kept the place clean and orderly, I kept the meals on the table, I kept the laundry piles to a minimum. I got out regularly and the visions, the terrible, vivid visions started to fade a bit.

Then we rented out our basement suite to complete strangers.

And it pretty much pushed me over the edge. (An edge I didn't even realize I was standing next to)

For the past two weeks I have been paralyzed with anxiety. Anxiety worse than I can ever remember having in the past. So bad that my whole body goes cold. I shiver and shake. I hyperventilate. My eyes get super heavy and tired. My body aches at night from being so tense during the day.

There are STRANGERS living in my house! And they keep different hours than me! And I can smell their food! And they make noises that I don't recognize... in MY HOUSE!!! They also happen to tell lies (stupid lies that there is no apparent reason for) which just sent me straight into Fuckedupville via the Crazy Train.

Part of it is definitely their fault. They're idiots. But for now they're paying rent and they mostly adhere to the rules we make. So a big part of it is me.

I realized yesterday that I needed some professional help and today I finally broke down and went to see my counselor. She's amazing.

After listening to what's been going on, she said that she feels I'm dealing with a version of PPD. Those horrible, graphic visions are a type of PPD. And having the new people in my basement totally set me off. Yes, I should have some concern about them but not to the degree that I am experiencing. Oh and the visions that were fading? Are returning. I went to check on Ruby this morning and I was so sure that somebody had somehow stolen her in the middle of the night that when I looked in her crib I didn't see her, and I knew she was gone forever. My heart jumped. I gasped! Until she moved and I saw her and realized I was fucked up in the head.

So my counselor feels strongly that I might need some meds to help me level out the anxiety. She doesn't think I'm depressed, but she really thinks that I need some anti-depressants or something of the like. And she's not one to readily suggest medication. But she was readily suggesting it.

She said that being a mom is hard work - if you're doing it right. She said I'm a bit worn out and I need to stop "white knuckling" it. I need a break. I need to relax. And I need some help. She advised that I make a doctors appointment ASAP.

I really never wanted to do the anti-depressant thing again. But I know she's right. I am surprised I didn't put it together before. I mean, I am a bit of a veteran with the whole depression/anxiety thing. Although I guess I've only ever used AD's to help me with depression, the anxiety was just a bonus on the side. This time it's almost all anxiety. Super bad anxiety.

So I feel a little better now that a professional has "assessed" me and made some suggestions. Meds and some reworking my thoughts and some relaxation techniques and some extra security for my portion of the house. I'm giving all of it some very serious thought.

Speaking of thoughts... I thought I was going to get off scott free in the PPD department. The first year is almost over, after all. How does this happen at 10 months???

Don't blink

All you ladies out there who have recently had babies, or who are going to have one soon?
Here's my advice: Don't blink.

Because this can happen in the blink of an eye:

Ruby graduated from the travel (and oh so convenient) carseat today to a "big girl" carseat.

But I was pretty sure that it was only a week or so ago that I brought her home from the hospital! She seemed like such a tiny little peanut in that big, cavernous carseat.

Ever have one of those days?

Yesterday was not one of our better days. Ruby was in a... mood. She was not into napping. Not into eating. Not into being nice. She was whiny and cranky and hard to please. It is these days that kill me. I cannot stand the sound of the whining. It makes me crazy. Literally.

She wouldn't nap so I had to take a shower while she was awake. In the 5 minutes that it took me to shower, she managed to unravel the toilet paper roll all over the floor and then pull back the shower curtain to get the floor and toilet paper all wet and soggy.

Also I'm dealing with getting our new tenants settled in. I'm not used to the extra noises in my house and am completely on edge. Plus they don't have a phone set up yet so they've been upstairs asking to borrow my phone to call the phone company.

Also my brother bought Steve's old car that we had sitting the driveway. Yesterday was the day he and his fiance came to pick it up. So there were issues around the insurance, transferring the ownership to him, yadda yadda yadda.

Yesterday was also the day I decided that I wanted needed a blackberry. I spent a good chunk of the morning on the phone with the phone company (Telus) trying to figure out the best plan, etc. (While juggling Ruby to keep her happy) Then I was to go to the Telus store in the afternoon to pick out and activate the new blackberry.

This is where it gets good.

I go to the Telus store with Ruby. I get there and plop her in her little stroller and head inside. I didn't bother to strap her in because I didn't think we'd be there long and it's a pain in the ass. (see where this is going?) But it turns out I was there longer than planned. Ruby was a little crank pot the whole time. Any toy I gave her to appease her was flung across the store. I was getting flustered trying to set up a new plan, pick out the right phone/blackberry, and then get it set up all while rocking the stroller, making goofy faces and sounds, and chasing after flung toys in the store.

I was almost in the home stretch and was just learning how to set it up to check my emails and I was not looking at Ruby in the stroller because, thankfully she was finally settled down and quiet.

And then I heard the SMACK and then the screeeeeeeaming. I turn to see my daughter sprawled on her back on the (tiled) floor of the Telus store. AND the place was busy. EVERYBODY turned to see me pick the screaming baby up off the floor.

The little shit had decided she didn't feel like being in the stroller anymore and squirmed out from between the seat and the tray. Not a big space but she managed. And then she flipped out onto the floor, banging her head.

Now, we have hardwood floors at home and Ruby is learning to crawl/pull-up/walk right now so let's just say that I've learned to distinguish the different degrees of crying to assess how bad the fall is.

This one wasn't the worst she'd experienced and I knew she would be fine.

But fuck if I didn't feel (and look) like an idiot.

Luckily some lady started making faces and talking to her so she calmed down enough so that I could finish what I was doing and hightail it out of there.

I then drove to pick Steve up from work. He wasn't ready yet so I sat in the back seat trying to entertain Ms. Grumpy Pants. The sun started shining in her eyes and it pissed her off so I held up my arm to block the sun. Damn if she didn't take her little E.T. finger and put it to my freshly tattooed wrist and DIG HER CLAWS into my scabbed arm. YOWCH!

Poor Steve was all excited about the new blackberry on the drive home and kept asking questions. Finally I said, "Could you just please not talk to me right now? I don't want to talk or listen to anybody's noise right now." Which set the tone for an edgy evening.

Later in the evening I happened to look in Ruby's mouth and what did I find there? I'll be damned if one of her top teeth hasn't finally, FINALLY cut through her gums.

Out comes the liquid baby Tempra.

Out comes the wine.

Both seemed to do a fine job of at least temporarily fixing some of our problems, sending Ruby into sleepy land and sending me into happy, warm buzz, relax on the couch land and later to sleepy land myself.

Today's to-do list:
Go to Pharmacy - need more Tempra.
Stop at liquor store on the way - need more wine!
(Also, learn to use this damn Blackberry!)

Runner's High

After a long, shitty week I woke up this morning and shuffled the songs on my ipod and went out for a kickass jog. The sun was shining but the air was cool and brisk. The music in my ears was loud and upbeat (and a little raucous). Everyone I passed on the street smiled and said "good morning" (my music was loud but I can read lips). I was out all on my own, doing something for myself. I only had to concern myself with moving and pushing my body. I went further and faster than I have in some time.

And now I have a kickass runner's high.

Hypothetical question

If you hypothetically had a baby that was probably going to be your only baby and she was a really really really independent little thing that would allow ZERO cuddling and often tried to push away from you when you were holding her and you sometimes even snuck into her room at night to scoop her from her crib while she was sleeping because you thought that surely then she would snuggle in your arms, but even then she still kicked and flailed to get away from you in her sleep, and you took her swimming and she loved the water all the time but then one time she was a little bit nervous and suddenly CLUNG to your neck and pushed her cheek to your face....

...would it be really wrong to hypothetically go just a little bit deeper in the water so she would keep clinging (or even cling tighter!) because it felt so good??

Hypothetically, would that make someone a bad/mean mom???

All I wanted was a cup of coffee

I'm not a regular coffee drinker. But today I was thinking I would like a cup. I have little mini-filters for such occasions. As my water was boiling in the pot, I frantically searched but could not find them.

So I broke down into tears - which is a tad bit of an overreaction, wouldn't you say?

This week seems particularly long. Steve usually has Mondays off (he works Tues-Sat) but this week he had to work Monday and is working 6 days in a row. He's also working 5:30am - 5:30pm which is 3 hours longer than usual.

Firstly - we share a vehicle. Usually he comes home on his lunch around noon and has lunch with Ruby and I and then we drive him back to work and have the vehicle for the afternoon. Except this week he isn't getting his lunch break and can't come home at all. I'm trapped in my home without a vehicle, for 6 long days. Also, I apparently really needed that 45 minute visit to break up the day, because I am missing it this week. Why else does the day seem sooooo long.

When Steve gets home from these long busy days at work - he's totally disconnected. He can't shut work off and it's all he can talk about. I mentioned to him yesterday that I had a headache and he looked at me for a second and then carried on with talking about how many loads of lumber he shipped out and how one of his yard workers broke his finger. So much for me, lets get back to you, shall we? When we go to bed at night I feel like I'm sharing my bed with a roommate. I tried to snuggle up to his back last night and he farted.

I had been running in the morning before he went to work but with him starting at 5:30am, I can't run unless I want to do it at 4am (I don't). I've been getting out and walking everyday but the weather has been hot and I am a sweaty, tired mess when I get home. I tried running when he got home from work but again, the warmth of the evening was too much and made me feel miserable.

Ruby and I have walked to the grocery store, Walmart, the veggie market, the pharmacy and have also walked around the neighborhood many, many times. My hips were actually aching last night from so much walking/pushing the stroller. I've also mowed and raked the lawn and cleaned like a motherfucker. I'm running out of shit to keep myself occupied with! There's only so much laundry, dishes, vacuuming, dusting that a person can do before they get a little stir-crazy.

And could Ruby be any more whiny? Would those teeth break through already please!!!!?

It also seems to be particularly difficult not to eat "recreationally".

It's only a week and the overtime $$$ is much needed.

Just.... where the hell are my coffee filters!!?

Sweet Grapes

When I was in my 2WW with IVF#2, I remember a day that I was sure it didn't work and I was not going to be pregnant. And I was devastated. I knew I couldn't keep going through treatments for the toll they were taking on me physically, emotionally and financially. I became desperate to find a way to get on with my life. (And desperate to soften the blow of another BFN.) So I got on the internet and I ordered a book that I thought would help me.

Before the book had time to be delivered I peed on a stick and got two lines.

When the book came, I quietly put it away somewhere and didn't want to see it again for fear that if I touched it or even looked at it, it would surely jinx my pregnancy.

Then the other day I was in my computer room and Ruby was playing on the floor. I saw she had pulled a book off my shelf and did a double take when I saw which book she had...

It seemed so ironic and weird that of all the books on the shelf she had pulled that one out. I sat and stared for a moment, it was such an odd sight for me to be seeing. I felt like I was looking at the crossroads of my life. One of my lives was sitting on the floor with my other life in her lap. At one point in time, each of these paths had a 50% chance possibility of being the one that I was to walk down - they both couldn't exist. And here I was, staring them both in the face. I am not sure I can accurately describe how it felt.

It was like the universe was sending me a reminder of how far I've come and what I've endured to get here, and to make sure that I appreciate every second of the life that I have now.

And I can assure you that I do.

~I know this is a sensitive and painful topic for some, but if there is anyone who feels that that they are at the point in their life where this book might help to you or someone you know, please let me know and I will be happy to package it up and mail it to you for free.

Reunion. Goodbye.

Today Ruby met the lady that brought her into the world. Well, technically I suppose it was more of a reunion, because they met about 9 months ago.

I got an email a couple weeks back notifying me that the midwife group that I went to during my pregnancy was having a picnic and all the babies that they delivered in the past year were invited. And I wasn't going to go. But last night I thought about it and ran to my computer to check the email to see if I had missed it and found out that it was today, this afternoon.

And I realized I should go. I needed to.

And when I got out of the car and I saw the woman that delivered Ruby, standing under a shelter in the park, out of the rain - I got a big fat lump in my throat and my eyes welled up.

Ok, enough with the emotions already. Look around! Nobody else is crying, you sissy!

Deep breath. Carry on.

It was quite a busy picnic and I knew nobody but Ruby so we just sat at a table and played around and sipped a Starbucks and nibbled on a treat until one of the two midwives that took such good care of me came over to say hello. We chatted for a bit and then the other midwife came over - the one who actually delivered Ruby and I asked if I could take a picture of them with her. The one that actually delivered Ruby, held her on her knee and it was all I could do to get Ruby to look at the camera. She just stared at the woman who brought her into the world. Almost like she was awestruck?

Ok, maybe it was the sparkly necklace she had on, I don't know but I got all fucking emotional again.

Why was nobody else getting all misty eyed about meeting up with the woman/women who delivered their babies??!? Everybody was all nonchalant, busy drinking herbal tea and breastfeeding and eating organic cake.

And why was the most popular conversation topic, "When are you having another one?"
*winkwink* *nudgenudge*

Can't we just be happy and enjoy the ones that we have now? Can't we???


So I got my picture that I wanted and I got a short little visit with two of the best midwives I could have ever hoped for.

And I suppose there's a good chance that it was also the last time I might see them, for in all likelihood I may never need a midwife again... Which might explain the emotions that nobody else had.

Reflecting

I came, I saw, I stagetted. I survived. I actually had some fun.

But 12 hours of "celebrating"... is a bit too much for me at my ripe old age of 34. It started at noon and ended (for me anyways) at around midnight. Which meant, "ouch" for yesterday.

Luckily though I did get to come home at the end of the night and I was in the door, in my bed by about 12:30am or so. I was ever so happy to be able to kiss my baby goodnight and wake up in my own bed in the morning.

I was also very lucky that Steve treated me so well yesterday. He took on the parenting role completely and so I was able to sleep in and rest and lick my wounds for as long as it took (it took a long time). He told me that I deserved a night out and I deserved a day off and I deserved to sleep and rest and do whatever I wanted to do the next day. I'm so thankful for that. I did sweet fuck all yesterday.

Today, after the fog has lifted somewhat, I'm feeling thankful for where I'm at in my life. A place where those party girl nights are so few and far between and there are other things, much more important things - things that make me so much more happy and content than a night out could ever make me. And I think that all the days and nights of worry leading up to last Saturday are because I know that that's not really me anymore. That I don't enjoy that kind of night so much anymore. Sure I do still enjoy myself a cocktail now and then, but those big BIG party nights just don't do it for me anymore.

Or perhaps they never did.

What if those big piss up, party down nights were never really my thing? What if that's just what I did because I didn't know what else to do with myself and it just seemed like the thing to do? What else did I have going on? How else would I get the attention that I seemed to crave so badly? What else would fill the void? What else would help me numb out my feelings?

Having a little reminder of what my old life looked like really slams it home how unhappy and unfulfilled I truly was back then. I couldn't be happier with where my life is right now. I am not missing out on anything. I don't care if people think I'm silly or sucky or whatever because none of that matters one little bit. I have all I could ever ask for in my life and my heart wants for nothing.

I need a pep talk!

Today I'm going out for a stagette. It's shaping up to be super fun - we're going on a professionally created scavenger hunt during the day, then appies and cocktails at a girlfriend's house, then a limo to a comedy dinner theatre, then limo back to girlfriends house for... more drinking and fun I suppose. The girls that are going are all really fun, lots of laughs and super easy to get along with.

And I so totally deserve a night out with the girls and a night off from housewife/mommy duties.

So why do I feel so nervous about it that I have been losing sleep and this morning woke up with some... "stomach issues"?

I'm nervous about the hangover that I will inevitably have. Yes, I know I am in control of this but anyone who's ever been out on a girls night with a bunch of fun loving, good time girls - knows how hard it can be to say no or to go too slow. I do plan on implementing some strategies to minimize the damage but the fact remains that even after a mellow night, I suffer. I know I will suffer tomorrow.

Along with that will come guilt. I'm so scared of the inevitable guilt. Does anyone else get this? Or I am the only mental case?

And there's the overnight thing. I HATE overnights. I'm contemplating coming home but I will need to take an expensive cab ride. And I will get ribbed from the girls. People don't get my thing with sleep overs and it's hard to explain to people.

And also - it's a LONG time to be away from my girl. I will worry about her. I *know* she'll be fine but I can't help but worry about her and miss her. God I will miss her.

But I'm going back to work in December and Ruby will be going to daycare 4 days a week. That's going to be a big shock to her (and me) and I have been trying to tell myself that she needs to start spending some time away from me and with other people - so she can cope better when daycare starts. So wouldn't this be a good start? Part of me says, yes. Definitely. Part of me says, who fucking cares - I want my baby!!!

How lame am I? The Tara of 5 years ago would roll her eyes at the Tara of today and then she would order another drink and shake her head in disgust.

No, I would NEVER, EVER want to go back to the Tara of 5 years ago, but I would really like to just go out and have a good time without all the fucking mental and emotional baggage.

I could sure use some encouragement and/or a pep talk. I know Saturday is a slow day for blogging but if you happen to come across this post I could sure use a shot in the arm.

Bullets - because it's 3:20am

*I've lost my sleep mojo. It's been gone for about 2 weeks. I need it back desperately but don't know how to get it. I have little trouble falling asleep at night but it's staying asleep that I can't seem to get right. I just can't get into a deep sleep. I am awake every hour looking at the clock. And sometimes, just like right now, I wake up and cannot fall back to sleep. It makes me want to cry.

*We've decided to rent out our basement suite. I SWORE I would never do this but de$perate time$ call for de$perate mea$ure$. I THINK I've found a nice couple to rent it but until they're actually here living under me, in my home - how will I really know? It scares the CRAP out of me.

* We had been using the suite as a recreation and storage area and it was fully furnished - but it's being rented empty. So it's like we've been moving for the past 2 weeks. We've had to pack up everything and either move it upstairs and find a home for it, or ship it to my parents house (45 minute drive) to store it in their basement.

* I am feeling super fat and flubby lately. I really need to get some weight off but I'm having a hard time finding the place in my head that I need to get to to make that happen. I just feel like I'm being dragged around in life with no time to recharge my mental battery. Not sleeping doesn't help either. One feeds off the other.

* I am going to a stagette this Saturday and I have SUPER mixed feelings about it. I will be gone for 24 hours. My mom will come here to watch Ruby during the day (I leave at about noon) and then she'll go home and Steve will watch her when he gets off work. I just know I'm going to fucking worry sick about her all night. Steve's never had her on his own overnight before and I know he's totally capable but I worry that he might slack and something might happen. The other day he was giving her a bath and I happened to walk by and see him taking a pee while she was in the tub. The toilet and tub are separated by a wall. And he was just standing there peeing, peeing, peeing... she could have been doing some deep sea diving for all he knew. He gets mad when I say I'm worried about him looking after her.

* The stagette is an overnighter. I do don't overnighters very well. I hate sleeping anywhere other than my own bed. I get bad anxiety attacks. But if I don't stay it will be like my childhood all over again when I am the only kid at the sleepover who needs to go home because she "can't" stay at other people's houses.

* There's going to be some heavy partying going on too. I don't want to be hungover and sick and depressed the next day but I will be. And I'll have to slide right back into my mommy role and that's no fun with a hangover. Plus? I'm not the party girl I once was. Not sure I can handle this shit anymore. I'm really nervous about the whole thing.

*I signed Ruby and I up for Mommy and Me Aquafit at the local pool - it's every Wednesday for 6 weeks. This means I will be in a bathing suit which strikes fear into the very core of my being. I realize that 30 minutes of aquafit isn't going to be the workout to make me lose 25lbs but Ruby LOVES the water and it's something different to do. It happens to fall on the days of the mommy meetups so I can no longer attend them. No sadness over that schedule conflict.

*I got the pedicure from HELL. The chick sliced a chunk of my heel off with a cradle blade and I've been limping for 4 days. I'm fucking choked about it because I wanted to start jogging again (it's been a few weeks, maybe a month) but every time I walk it bleeds and hurts. Not exactly what you expect when you go for some pampering.

*Ruby's daycare lady called last night to ask a couple of questions. We got talking about her going to daycare and I said how it makes my stomach to a flip-flop to think about being away from her every day. She said, "Yes it's really hard in the begginning. Hard for both of you. But it gets better." And I started to cry. Hard for me - I will deal with me. Hard for Ruby - breaks my heart and I cannot stand the thought of it. (This may require a post of it's own in the future.)

...well, it's now going on almost 4am. I had hoped that getting all this shit out would release it like doves at a wedding and I would feel all peaceful and happy and I would be able to fall into a deep sleep. Instead I'm wide awake still. Maybe I'll go watch some infomercials. I'd love to go into Ruby's room and scoop her out of bed to snuggle her (yeah right, she hates cuddling). But I know that will just wake her up and there's no reason for all of us to suffer.

Mommy wars

This whole "Mommy Wars" bullshit? Can kiss my ass.

I attend this this group of about six mommies/babies that meet up once a week. It started from a group that I attended at the Health Clinic once a week until Ruby "graduated" at 6 months old. Some moms decided that it would be nice to continue the meetups on our own, once a week.

But I may bow out. The Mommy Wars is a battle I have no interest in waging and it seems to be going strong in this group. There is one mom in particular who grates on me. She has a lot of "important" "friends that she talks about all the time. One friend is a surgeon, she has two friends that are "professional" photographers, one that is a lactation nurse, and her husband is a professional at absolutely everything. Her baby could sign milk at 3 months old. She is still breastfeeding and feels that giving a bottle to her Precious would ruin her life forever (she talks about it as I feed Ruby a delicious bottle of formula). She sews toys for her baby and also makes her own baby food. Her baby eats everything she is given and loves it. The baby gives her mom hugs and kisses all the time too. Her baby can also *fly, is training to run a half-marathon and can speak three different languages. She might also shit pink rose petals, I'm not sure. She continually talks about her wonderful cabin on the lake that she retreats to every weekend with her perfect family.

Today she brought this frilly dilly pair of pink pants to the group because her daughter is so "slender" that she would never fit into them. She offered them to me while saying, "If they're too pink for you, I understand." Because, you know... I have tattoos and that means that I would never let my daughter wear **pink.

My eyes hurt from rolling so much. It's taxing. And hardly how I want to spend two to three hours a week. I'm not playing into the ***one-upmanship game.

Prior to this last month, I thought the Mommy Wars were battles that uptown mommies waged in their fancy SUVs, designer sunglasses, yoga gear and venti Starbucks coffees. Prior to two months ago I'm not sure I'd even heard the term and didn't have a clue that this went on.

So I'll go to one or two more meetups to see if it's worth my time to continue. If not, I'll take my future honor role student and LPGA champion and we'll go play with our toys somewhere else.

*Maybe not, but it wouldn't surprise me to hear her say it.

**Pink she can wear. But frilly dilly pants? Not in any color.

***Oh yeah? Then why did I tell her Ruby rode a pony this past weekend??

Four Generations

My grandma lives on the opposite side of the country from me. She is 83 and had previously sworn off travel for the remainder of her life. It had been tearing at my heart that Ruby might never get to meet her Great Grandma - her only living Great Grandparent and a very special lady.

I cannot tell you how thrilled I was when I found out that she had agreed to come this way for a week long visit. It was the thought of meeting Ruby that convinced her to make one last trip out west.

I enjoyed the visit immensely and tried to soak up every single minute that I possible could.

I never thought I would have the opportunity to be a part of four generations of women in the same room together. Ever. I mean, Grandma was getting older and was more than two thousand miles away. And Ruby... well, for a while it looked like Ruby might never exist.

The closest that I thought I would get would be two generations, and a lot of pain. This two generation picture was taken the day after I found out my first IVF cycle didn't work. I had to be at a wedding that day and the hurt was overwhelming. It was hard to be dressed up and pretending. I can see the pain in my eyes though...

To be able to replace the above picture doesn't take away the pain of that failed cycle or the years of hurt that infertility brought. I will never forget that pain and heartache. But having the opportunity to create the next picture, makes me realize that there is little I wouldn't endure to get to this place:

Reaction

I get a lot of different reactions from people in regards to my sleeve tattoo. And it's usually ok. I expect it - I'd be a fool not to. I mean, seeing a person with a sleeve tattoo usually turns heads anyways but when it's on a female, it sometimes elicits even more reaction.

Some people will do a double take - all the while trying not to look obvious - "What the...? Is that a...? Oh crap! She saw me! Look away! Look away!" Then there's the people who peer at me out of the corner of their eye, waiting til I look the other way to take a good stare. There are the blinkers, the people who are shocked but try not to show it and somehow this causes their eyes to blink in rapid succession (these are usually older ladies). There are the shameless open starers - the ones who just stare, sometimes gaping mouths, sometimes while looking me up and down because they just can't quite figure me out. "Hmmm... nicely dressed, no piercings, hair is kinda mom-like, makeup is normal, cute little baby in tow... but then there's the tattoos... I don't get it!" Granted, I am probably not what most people expect when they think of a woman with a sleeve tattoo. I don't fit into any particular cookie cutter genre.

Yeah, sorry about that.

And I know people form opinions about me based on my tattoos. I know I'm judged by people on my appearance. No matter how "normal" I look otherwise, when they see the tattoos they instantly think things about me. They think they know something about me. Even people that I see in my everyday life who either ignore the tattoos or who say the tattoos don't bother them? They're still thinking shit.

And generally, it's all neither here nor there for me. Mostly, I couldn't care less about what people think. I understand that it's not everyday you see a woman with a sleeve tattoo and I expect most people to react in one way or another. It is what it is. I look how I look. Deal with it. Or don't. Have your looky loo, think what you think, get on with your life.

Until the other day when I was leaving the grocery store with my husband and my baby - a woman walked into the store and gave me the most obvious, ignorant, stupid look I've ever seen. I looked right at her and said, "Oh, now that's just really rude." She pretended she didn't hear what I said (despite being within two feet of me), avoided eye contact - and looked right at my arm and made another ridiculous, and terribly rude face. And then she strutted away with a little disgusted shake of her head.

I have never had a reaction (to my face anyways) that was so obviously meant to show disdain and to purposefully make me feel small, or ugly, or bad, or whatever it was that she was going for.

I boiled with a million different emotions.

Firstly - rage. And let me tell you it is rare that I ever feel rage over reactions to my tattoos. (Other people's driving? Yes. But reactions to my tattoos? No.) But oh Good Lord did I feel some serious rage towards this woman. I had to stop in my tracks and consciously stop myself from walking after her and giving her a quick close up of my tattooed arm as it followed my fist into her perfectly made-up face.

But Ruby was with me and it would have been very inappropriate. So when we got to the car, I asked Steve if I could leave Ruby with him for a few minutes while I went back in the store and hunted the woman down.

He said that I couldn't do that - which was the level headed answer. Besides, what I felt like doing to that woman is probably what she would expect from "a person like me".

After the rage started to peel away, I felt shame underneath it. Oh how I fucking hate shame. In all logic, I know that I have NOTHING to feel shameful for. But I somehow did. One stranger's rudeness could make me feel embarrassed and ashamed of myself? Am I a bad person for how I look? People think I am. This woman thought I was.

But after some time I started to feel other things. I felt actually shocked that in today's day and age, any person would be so obviously judgemental towards another. I mean, in today's society do we not promote individuality? Do we not promote tolerance of others? Do we not not judge books by their covers? Do we not teach our children to accept people for what's on their insides and not what's on their outsides?

And there are SO MANY people in today's world who have SO MANY different looks. It truly shocks to me that anyone would find a tattooed arm so appalling and revolting that they would make it such high priority to express their hate of how another individual looked. (It's a tree with flowers on it for crying out loud!!!)

What if someone walked by her who smelled different? Or who had a different color of skin? Or a birth mark? Or who was bald - maybe by choice, maybe not? I do realize that I've chosen to have my arm tattooed so it's not exactly the same, but really... I wonder where she draws the line?

And just what made her feel that she was justified in trying to make me, another human being, feel lower than her (because that's what it's really all about) because she didn't approve of my appearance?

So after I had worked through my own feelings about this incident, I decided that I kinda felt bad for her. How limited and enclosed her world must be. How few friends must she have, and how boring must they be? Everybody must look Stepford and nobody who is worth her time can have anything about them that makes them stand out. And what is this woman teaching her children? What is it that she's saying to them with her ignorant, intolerant ways?

Somebody once asked me, "What are you going to tell your kids about your tattoos?" And this was before Ruby was ever even in a petri dish - but I responded that I will teach my kids that everybody is different, and that no matter what somebody looks like, you should always get to know them before you decide if you like them or not. I believe that my tattoos will go far in teaching my daughter to be accepting of others. And I'm proud of that. I'm proud of the mother that I am, I'm proud of the woman I am, I'm proud of my tattoos.

And I'm sorry for anyone with preconceived notions about anyone's appearance. I really am. Because you're missing out on a lot. You're boxing yourself in.

Perhaps the next time you are out and about and you see someone who looks different or out of the ordinary or who is even perhaps ugly or unappealing to you? Do the world and yourself a favor and take a minute to realize that they are a human being just like you, with likes and dislikes, thoughts and feelings before you go ahead and judge them on their purple spiked hair, piercings, tattoos, extra weight, acne, or clothing.

Really. Think about it.