March for Babies

After marching last year and having yet another person I know have a baby that was born prematurely and survive, I have decided to stay dedicated to the cause.  The march isn't until April 25 and I will be very pregnant.  I will be attempting to participate anyway and hopefully Sam will be home to join me.  So please help me and when you can, donate a little towards the cause so that one day we can all have healthy babies.  I'll have my donation ticker back up in a few weeks.

I hope everyone has a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.  I won't be posting anymore until then.

And here starts the bump watch.  There's not much of one right now and I will cover up as time goes on, but I thought I'd show it while it's not totally unsightly!

Way Behind

Ok, give me a little break.  I know it's been a long time since I got on here to let you know what's going on with me.  I could list the excuses, but I'm not going to whine today.  At least that's my goal.  I'm still a bit nauseated.  I saw the doctor this week and she said it could last as long as 17 weeks or it may last the entire time.  Hopefully 17 weeks will be as long as it takes.  Everything else at the doctor was good.  I heard little "nugget's" heart beat again.  It is definitely bigger because it was easier to find this time and it stayed in one place longer than three seconds.  It is an amazing sound.

I braved Target last night to buy my first pair of maternity jeans!  And let me just say they are fabulous.  I'm not really showing yet, but my pants were getting a little awkward around the waist.  But now that I've slipped into my new jeans today, I don't think I ever want to take them off.  They are like sweat pants without looking so atrocious.  I think everyone should buy them, pregnant or not.  They are like heaven.

That's about all the update I have so far.  My next appointment is on January 16th and I may find out if "nugget" is a boy or girl.  I'll have to come up with a new nickname after that. =)

Weepy Willow

Oh, let the hormones flow!  I swear I love Christmas and I love the uplifting stories, but I cannot watch one more Good Morning America special or local news story about the terminally ill or disabled children or I'm going to dry up like a prune.  Everything from a wheelchair-bound 8 year-old girl performing in the nutcracker to a terminally ill women who had her dead father's camera stolen only to have the thief turn it into a local news station to be returned to her with the film of her family's recent trip to Six Flags.  I know most of this stuff would make some people cry, but I'm not a crier and I can't even make it through the introduction to the story without bursting into tears.  Forget watching stories about things like little Caylee Anthony and other tragedies.  When will the insanity stop?!

I'm sure some of it has something to do with Sam leaving recently.  I do really miss him.  I joke all the time that his deployments are good for our marriage and that I can't wait for him to deploy, but I don't really mean it.  Ok, maybe it is good for our marriage (absence keeps the hearts fond of one another), but I'm definitely wishing he was here and not there.  I did manage a trip to Walmart last night to buy some food to sustain me through the next couple of days.  The problem with grocery shopping once a week is I never know what I might feel like eating.  So I go to the grocery store and graze a little bit.

Slacking off, I know

Ok so I missed a few days.  Let's see.  Sunday I had a minor relapse into puking my guts out.  Now back on the meds and doing ok.  Monday I took the day off to spend time with Sam, but spent most of the day sleeping on the couch.  It's what I do.  Then today was pretty much the same.

Sam had to report in at 6:00 am.  We initially thought that that would be the last time I saw him, but he got to come home at noon and hang out until five.  Again, the majority of the time was spent laying on the couch watching TV.  Then I drove him up to base and hung out for another hour and then left him.  I always leave him with some good advice when he deploys, "Play nice with the other children."  It really does feel like dropping your kid off at the first day of school, only this day will last for 120 or more.  But seriously, it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.  The hugs were a little tighter and the kisses lingered a little longer, but all in all it was just like last year.  Now I'm on my own.  I told Sam that I needed to find another "hunter/gatherer".  That's what I called him since he was my constant source of food.  Now I must get up off the couch and fend for myself.  However, I did eat over with some girlfriends tonight so I haven't taken that leap yet.  I've just moved up the food chain to scavenger

Now I am at home about to catch up on some DVR'd shows from last week and tonight.  Then I will hit the hay and go into work tomorrow for the first time since Friday.  I love sick/annual leave.

Don't worry about me though.  When I curl up in bed at night, I have my ADT alarm, my 120 pound lump of love dog, my 12 pound pit bull trapped in another dog's body, and .45 tucked away in an easily accessible place.  I also sleep knowing brave men and women guard my freedom to have all of this.  All should be safe at home.

Innocent bystanders beware!

Psycho chic is in full swing today.  For those of you who haven't read Belly Laughs by Jenny McCarthy, I highly recommend it.  In any case, she so aptly describes the life of a pregnant woman and all those things that no one really talks about.  For example, a pregnant woman now has three people occupying her body.  Her normal wonderful self, her new little baby, and this other person from another dimension who rears her ugly head at anytime no matter the phase of the moon.

Well, it is 11 am here in Sherwood and psycho chic is blossoming.  I don't know if it's because today is the first day I'm off anti-nausea meds (or trying to be) or what, but everything I look at in my house makes me want to scream.  Even the things that I know are my fault like the massive piles of dirty clothes everywhere (remember my talent for undressing in several rooms), the piles of peanut butter cracker wrappers, animal fur, dust, the pile of dirty dishes, the food splatters all over the place from Sam's cooking, the disgusting microwave, and the list goes on and on.  At least psycho chic has made it possible for me to get up off my butt and do the dishes, clean the stove, wipe the counters, and even shower today.

I just pray that I don't assault a poor soul at Walmart today when I go to buy diapers for a friend's baby shower.  Apparently pregnancy is in the water around here.  I have six friends that are pregnant.  I round it out to seven pregnant women all due between February and July.  And there was no collaboration among any of us about getting pregnant.  It just happened this way.  That's the beginning of Saturday in a nut shell.  Hopefully, things will calm down as I realize that in a few days all of this mess will be 100% my fault and I'll have no one to blame.

Friday...Blah

So I made the seemingly epic journey to work today. I was actually surprised that I made it the entire way (a whole seven miles this week) without feeling sick once. So far the day has been pretty mediocre. I devoured a Big Mac at lunch and most of a medium order of French fries before the message reached my brain that my stomach was on the verge of exploding. Self inflicted agony was to follow along with a fast food grease coma. But other than that, week twelve seems to be starting out good.

Today I had an epiphany. I have come to the conclusion that 60% of Friday at work is useless. A typical Friday for me consists of 50% of my time being devoted to thinking about what I'm going to do when I get off from work and the other 10% is spent thinking about thinking about being off work. The other 40% that is devoted to work is usually work that could have been done on one of the other four days that week. Seriously, working Fridays is useless. But, I'll endure for the sake of a paycheck.

My most recent hill to climb is facing Sam's second deployment. Last year it seemed to take forever for the day to arrive. I think the excitement and anxiety about it made time creep by. However, this time it is threatening to blow through our lives like a freight train, which would be good if the rest of it would go equally as fast. But it won’t. I’m just panicking a little bit because I know there are so many things that I need to do and I need for him to do before he leaves. Between being sick, working, and being 10 hours behind in my master’s classes with finals in one week, I just can't seem to find the time to make a list for either of us. There are a few things that will be on the top of the list. I have expressed a need for a thorough cleaning of the litter box. That is a number one priority since I’m going to have to start cleaning it everyday to avoid toxoplasmosis (basically, use rubber gloves when cleaning the litter box, don’t eat cat poop, don’t eat things with your hands after touching cat poop, and don’t eat cold lunch meat. Yea, that’s right! Makes you look at a sandwich in a whole new light. You can get the same infection from lunch meat as you can from kitty poop.). He also needs to clean the ring around the bathtub since he's the only one who takes a bath in our house. Yes, I bathe! But I prefer my bathing in the shower where you don't sit in a puddle of your own dirt and oils. I just can't see how that is really considered bathing. But I digress.

I am making every effort to get Christmas on time. I only have shopping to do for a few other people. But, Christmas cards are definitely on the back burner this year. I plan to get them done, but I can't make any promises. Sorry.

I guess that is all for today. Nothing exciting really happened. If something occurs between now and bedtime I’ll update, but I’m pretty boring in the evening. It usually goes something like this. Walk in the door, find more comfortable clothes while shedding mine all over the floor (in about four different rooms, I know I’m talented), plopping down on the couch to watch the news, Wheel of Fortune, and whatever other television program I’m addicted to that day, and then Sam comes home, I whine for dinner, he provides, I eat and pass him my plate, he does the dishes, I continue watching TV until 9:30 or 10 and then it’s bed time. Sounds great doesn’t it. Did I mention I have a large lump in my throat threatening to eject my stomach contents the whole time? But seriously, Sam is a good husband for all that he’s been putting up with lately.

11 Weeks and 6 days

OK, so now that the secret is out I can share with you all my experience with this whole pregnancy thing. Let me just say that the women who walk around talking about how much they love being pregnant obviously don't have the same experience that I have been having. That, or they are masochists.

The "morning" sickness, which should be called all-day and night sickness, started at five weeks and one day. I remember it well, because I was riding in a car with three girlfriends on our way to Dallas to see the not-so-new New Kids on the Block concert. This was fabulous by the way! In any case, the nausea had arrived and it has proceeded to torture me for the past seven weeks. Some bouts reduced me to laying on the bathroom floor for hours wanting to die. Oh and that whole thought process that goes, "If I just don't eat, I won't throw up" isn't true. Your body will find away to produce fluids so that your stomach will have something to shove up your throat and make you feel like your eyes are about to pop out of your head. Everyone keeps telling me that the end result of all of this will be worth it. The hard part for me is making it there.

But now I'm at eleven weeks and six days and I'm starting to feel a little better. And, now that I've said that, I'm sure I will pay dearly through a weekend of praying to the porcelain gods. But I'm really hoping that one day I will turn the corner and things will get better. Life has been pretty good to me so far and I'm hoping that I will be a part of the 90% of women who's morning sickness goes away. If not, I will be taking up confindence with my friend Shelley who puked for nine months. If anyone could help me through this it would be her.

So here is what I hope to do. I hope to share with you through this website all my experiences throughout this pregnancy and beyond. Right now, I refer to the baby as "nugget". My mom prefers "cashew", but she can have another baby and call it what she wants. Just kidding Mom, you know I love you and you can call your grandbaby anything you want as long as it doesn't hurt his/her self esteem or become one of those stories we tell all of his/her friends like Tyler and the "sticker story". For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about, just come to our house on some special occassion and get introduced to my little brother, who incidentally is not so little anymore, and you will surely get to hear the story.

But that's all for now. I hope that you all find this entertaining and a way to keep up with our lives. At least with this, your inbox will not be flooded with long emails and you can read at your leisure. ENJOY!