Corporal Punishment?

I think having Squeaker was just a lead up to what Peanut will put us through in a few years... she's a tough cookie. She never narks on her brother and that is a dangerous thing. Because if that's the case than I am in big trouble.

Squeaker - my sweet lovable child is at times a rotten handful. It's like a switch has flipped and he's this little monster with no manners and is mean. He won't stop doing whatever it is he's not supposed to be doing and no matter what the punishment it seems as if you have to escalate for him to deescalate. It drives his father and his Nana up a wall. In fact it caused Nana to leave early on Thursday because of his antics the night before. Even I recognized that he was out of control at the time, however I had to leave for work so I wasn't a solution to that particular problem.

My mom is 69 and her patience if she's feeling not well is nonexistent. I'll be working nights until June and then I'll be on days, but where the hell am I going to find a daycare situation for a little boy who can be sweet one minute and a hellion the next? Also one that has late hours and early hours for my 12 hour shift work....

He kicks, he hits, he gets frustrated - and I don't know if some of it is because he's just catching up on his language skills and hasn't figured everything out or what.

So... what's the solution? I have no idea. We've tried time outs - which seriously do not work. Squeaker has even been sent to the naughty room at school... that he didn't like. Why do I have no naughty room at home? With an educator to monitor his activities in the naughty room.

Nuchal...

First off... I really for some reason have an odd dislike for the times new something or other font. You know that default font. Arial it is for me. Just something quirky about me okay.

Oh hell, I forget how far along I was, but about 2 weeks ago we had our nuchal translucency done. The measurements were 1.7-1.9 every time NN13 flipped and turned. Apparently we picked active time to do this. They were able to see all the things they wanted to see and I have as with Squeaker a posterior placenta... not that I cared, but just an odd side note. The blood work for the first part was done and by Friday we had the results which was a 1:10,000 risk for trisomies. I'm pretty sure I did a happy dance in spite of the fact that I had been woken up in the middle of sleep and had to work that night.

This past week has been not so fun though. Couple reasons... I am/was/am sick. I have a sinus thing that first made it impossible to not go about five minutes without blowing my nose or attempt to suffocate myself because NO AIR movement and have been battling that out. Tuesday the snow whatever showed up and I was working which meant... I spent all day Wednesday at work and then all night Wednesday night at work. They gave us a place to sleep, but let me just say the accommodations were about as good as they could be, but I got stuck by a coworker who didn't disclose that they snored... and they snored... and they snored... and I wanted to kick them or shove a pillow over their head. Needless to say I was a bloodshot mess Wednesday night and quite bitchy. The coworker and I ended up getting into it over something else. This is the same one who made me come out of the closet when I was 5 weeks because I needed them to do an MRI. I apparently still have some pent up animosity. The next time I work with her I'm going to have a talk with her. I need to get over this and since things are progressing with this pregnancy I need to let it go.

I have never been so happy to come home, climb into my own bed after giving D and Squeaker a kiss and telling my mom how much I loved and appreciated what she does for Squeaker and for us. I didn't have to worry about him while I was stuck at the hospital, because I knew he was in safe hands and that my mom could handle it. I probably could have slept for 18 hours straight, however I had a meeting yesterday afternoon.

Oh and Squeaker and D decided to try and outdo me. Both of them have this sinus crap as well. Nice and my mom has it as well. I'm tempted to call my OB. I just haven't made that phone call. I have chronic sinusitis but this... this just sucks.

We're at 14 weeks and some change now... all is well here. Another appt on Monday. Will try to keep posting.

Decision Time...

Wow... who knew deciding whether or not to take a 7a-7p position would be so difficult. I've had to do a pro/con list, talked with my husband, my mother, friends, etc. That should tell you how tortured I've been about this whole decision. Thursday morning I was offered the position with the schedule I wanted... and I think I'm going to pass it up.

One of the big reasons is I would not see my son as much as I do now. I would leave before he gets up and I would return home either right before he goes to bed or after he is in bed. If I work 2 days in a row that's 2+ days he doesn't see me. That's not fair to him. When I work nights he sees me before I go to work and during the day he takes a nap with his father and I. I think this was the deciding factor...

My mom and my husband both were not keen on this change either so yet another big naysayer. My coworkers were - which I feel honored about, but while they are my work family, they're not my family. I was ambivalent about it... unsure if I am really cut out to do a day job with all the people that are there, etc.

I have until Monday to make my final decision, but I think I have already. And... I just bought fertility monitor sticks, so hopefully I can get in to the RE by next month and we can start trying for number 2 if that's what we choose to do.

Not surpassing expectations...

This is a tough post to write... and while generally I focus on infertility or parenting this is about something else... not meeting or exceeding someone's expectations. I learned that I did that. I thought I was meeting or exceeding expectations, but turns out I'm not - but it's not in a cut and dry sense of the word... no it's more in a vague way which really is irritating. I'm actually pretty peeved by that realization. However it has opened my eyes that I can't meet everyone's expectations. I can't exceed everyone's expectations and damnit all... I can't kill myself trying to. Maybe it's the wake up call I needed.

I've also learned I'm not going to win any popularity contests. I get superficial friendships, but those deep friendships that inspire loyalty are few and far between. I'm not sure how to rectify that. It actually makes me pull more inward. I'm already a pretty inward sort of person, so this makes it even more so.

I know this is vague... but have you ever thought you wanted something only to realize maybe you didn't when you learned you didn't meet someones expectations? I just did... and I'm not sure how I feel about it. By the way this has nothing to do with parenting or infertility... and more to do with just life stuff.

Soon - the year in review...

I am NOT a patient person

Things with my mom haven't improved much as of yet. The first night she barely said a word... the second day wasn't much better. The fourth (I took the third day off) she ranted and raved about a bunch of things but was semi civil. Things have slowly progressed. I hoped hearing that I had gotten Squeaker's hair cut which was one of her complaints would bring out her grandmotherly spirit, but alas I haven't heard a word.

One of my mom's other big gripes was my son's eating habits or lack there of was sending her over the proverbial edge. In the hopes of mending fences and even maybe getting her to come back, I took the plunge on Tuesday and called requesting a referral to the feeding clinic. I then waited, and waited, and called and was told - the message is in, call back on Friday - which irritated me. This morning I called AGAIN and said what's the hold up? I apparently expressed enough irritation as I was finally told a short time later that the referral had been put through. In the short time I did call the feeding clinic and asked politely - Do I have to have a referral? My insurance doesn't require one. I was told firmly that I HAD to have a referral and that the wait was 6 weeks for the eval... and then if we needed the intensive feeding clinic it would be roughly 9 months.

I think my head exploded at that point... if we would have known it would take 6 weeks 3 months ago we would have just gone ahead and done the eval back then... so now I'm kicking myself for not putting this in the forefront...

I mean some days he eats great... most days he eats subpar to okay... and then there are the days when getting anything past his lips that are not crackers or cheese.

One of my mom's other beefs was that we were still breastfeeding... we haven't given that up. The plan is to wean when he's 2... I'm sticking with that one... Though most days I think it would be so easy to just say enough. He's still all about the boob.

Ultimately once I make a decision I want instant results... this waiting crap is for the birds. I've been a patient person - waiting patiently for Squeaker was enough. I shouldn't have to wait for this now.

I also shouldn't have to wait for my mom to cool off and become a normal human being again... you know that loving mother she used to be. But I have to wait for that as well...

The Nanny Quit...

Or why my mother is upset with me...

Thursday of last week was not a great day for me... for a number of reasons. First I had just started coming down with mastitis and second was dealing with a rental car since my husband had been in a car accident earlier in the week. We came home from dealing with both issues and sat down after having had a nice dinner. My mom had been at our house and was watching Squeaker.

We sat down and she started complaining about how I cut Squeaker's hair. I had trimmed it a bit, no it wasn't fabulous, but darnit the kid screamed the entire time I was doing it. I didn't want to pay someone I didn't know to listen to him scream and had planned on getting it cut professionally by someone we both go to who I thought would do a good job in a week. Well D said "You've done nothing but bitch since she cut his hair - at least she finally cut it." She looked at the both of us and said "I'm done, I quit." I of course sat there in stunned silence, attempted to calm her down, but at that point she unloaded.

By unloaded - I mean she came up with things that had happened 3 years ago to complain about, when she's upset she says a lot of mean and nasty things. I generally able to let it slide off my back, but some of the things did bother me. She was upset about my still breastfeeding especially since we're still having feeding issues. (Yes, I'm still breastfeeding and will continue until he's 2) She complained about the dogs and how many we have... and on and on it went. I asked if she would at least watch him through the holiday weekend and she said no. I'm not proud and I did beg her to watch him as my thought was how the heck am I going to find a babysitter on a holiday weekend. She left in a blaze of glory or as if an atomic bomb had gone off and said she was never coming back.

I spent Thursday night crying and fretting. D started searching in the phonebook for daycares and we called a friend. I needless to say was able to find another babysitter - a very good friend of ours who introduced us luckily is off from work for the summer. She's going to watch him on a part time basis until July. Friday we went and visited an in home daycare and were able to feel comfortable about this woman watching our son at night 2 nights a week.

Let me just say all of this has been incredibly difficult. I hate arguing with my mother. It tends to make me physically ill. This time was no different than in the past... it made me sick to my stomach to listen to her angry words and do nothing. I do nothing because I'd rather preserve our relationship then have it be the type of relationship she and my sister have of only talking occasionally. I did defend myself, but mostly I just listened. One of her words did hit a nerve... the one where said I wouldn't have anymore children. Because I don't know if I will and hearing her say it with such sureness really hit me hard. It's one thing for me to be unsure it's another thing to have someone else say it.

The whole daycare thing has me worked up in nerves as well. My son has never been to daycare... I'm terrified of it. I know this lady is nice, but I'm fearful we'll be kicked out by him uttering a bad word or by him just not sleeping well... and what happens if D or I get hung up at work, etc... it all just overwhelms me to think about it.

My mom and I are slowly talking... it's not like it used to be, and I'm not sure it ever will be. I worry about her on a daily basis and I worry about how the relationship she has with my son can be salvaged and kept intact. Ultimately I'm a worrier... I'm just trying to adjust to this new normal.

I take back all the bad things I've said about you...

Okay I lied I'll take back most of the bad things I've said about a doc I work with, but that's only because he gave me an awesome recommendation for an eye doctor for my mom.

Last year in October my mom was supposed to have cataract surgery. The day came and the surgeon (a different one than originally planned) says no I won't do your cataract surgery as you have Fuchs dystrophy. Granted the spelling my mom came up with "I have F u c * dystrophy". Her response once she realized she was spelling it wrong was quite comical. The surgeon put the fear of God into her and had her thinking she would go blind in a week based on what he had to say. If you recall last year I was quite post partum at the time and not able to fully deal with this issue the way I would normally.

So fast forward to May when I finally got around to setting up an appointment with a new eye MD and found that we couldn't get in until August. No problem Mom's eye sight has remained stable although she has not been able to read her murder mysteries like she would like to.

Yesterday August 5th was the appointment. The recommendation for this doc was from one of the docs I work with... he's a bit of a challenge to work with at times - bipolar, pita, at times. Ultimately a wonderfully skilled physician that can be a bit of a pita when he wants to be. However he's also one of the most honest and will give an honest opinion when asked - so I asked him for a recommendation and he suggested a particular group and specifically this particular doctor. Off we went, I had low expectations. I hoped that my mom would not be diagnosed with Fuchs but if she was so be it. The idea of a corneal transplant was not my idea of a great time since I would need to take off work to take care of her and the baby. Not ideal and purely selfish on my part. Also the whole genetic component that it's passed along not high on my list of things I want to worry about.

The appointment went well. My mom does indeed have Fuchs but it's a moderate case. Her cataracts will eventually need to be operated on, however this doctor would like to wait and reevaluate 9 months from now as he feels if she implements some of the tricks he's suggested in how to live with Fuchs. My mom went from being ADAMANT that she would have her cataracts removed in a few weeks to - okay with not having them treated. Once it was explained that the cataract surgery may push her over the little ledge she is standing on and would mean she would then probably have to have the corneal transplant. It was a light bulb moment. It also was refreshing to see my mom back down in her thoughts and actually listen to what a doctor had to say.

In the future I'll be going with my mom to all her eye doctor appointments. I think it's in everyone's best interest to do so.

What Does A Frozen Turkey Have To Do With This?

What does a frozen turkey have to do with anything???

Well when that meets a cement floor and manages to land on your foot it generally is not a good thing.

Last night I decided that I was going to attempt some cleaning of our basement. First - me and cleaning are not a good combination. When I finished up my maybe 15 minutes of cleaning I decided I had better find the frozen chicken for dinner. We have 2 freezers. I started digging through the chest freezer and had to move some items including 2 turkey breasts in a bag. I picked up the turkey breasts and continued digging. The bag broke sending 1 turkey onto my left foot and the resounding thud and my resounding moan sent D running to the basement. He wasn't sure if I fell, something fell, or what but he came running. He calmly picked up the turkey and then helped me up the stairs. We looked at my toe and it was already black, blue and bloody. We cleaned it up a bit and I debated should I go the urgent care... could it be an open fracture? Would I need antibiotics?

After a bit of debate as Squeak had just fell asleep and the roads were shitty we decided it was best to go and get it checked out.

Five hours later - yes FIVE hours later I am missing a toenail and have 4 stitches and a beautifully bruised toe and yes it is an open fracture, so I made the right decision to go and get it checked out.

Oh yes and to top off this week on Sunday when my mom got home to her house the pipes had burst. So we've been dealing with the insurance issues and my mom's nerves as well in regards to the house, etc. She told D that she had to take a nerve pill yesterday because of the way the cleaners are cleaning her house. She'd rather have the tools and clean it herself. So my week has been fun - how about yours?

Oh yes and we haven't told her yet about the toe... I'll tell her tonight. So if you hear yelling it's my mom. Maybe I'll slip her a "nerve" pill?

Birth Story

I decided that I probably should try and write things out to describe what exactly happened before mothers amnesia commences. SO... below is how things went.

I worked on Thursday night into Friday morning. It was normal - nothiing unusual had happened. I was feeling relatively "okay" in terms of fatigue. I had had to go to the bathroom a few times during the night but no big deal. Then at about 4 a.m. I went to go to the bathroom and thought that I had had some leakage of urine. Again no bg deal. By 5 a.m. that leakage was pink and I was a bit nervous. So I calmly asked my fellow coworkers if they by chance knew how to tell if someone's water had broken. Everyone immediately looked at my nether region as if to see a big giant wet puddle - which was not there. They then went into panic mode which for a bunch of ICU nurses is kind of comical if you think about it.

Eventually we tried to get labor and delivery to send us some special test strip to figure out if it truly was amniotic fluid or if I had just had a sudden loss of bladder control. They wouldn't go for that so I ended up speaking with the on call physician - who advised us to come in and be checked. At that point I was still doing pretty good. An occasional contraction, but again - was it really a contraction or my over reactive imagination? I finished up what I was doing, gave report on my patient and then tried to call D. D was at home sleeping... SOUNDLY... I left a message and headed home to pick him up and then drive to the hospital.

I chose to not deliver at the hospital at which I work... if I had been checked there they would have delivered me there since we now know my water had actually broken. So it was a good thing I did make the choices I made. However it also meant I got to the hospital about 2 hours after the fact.

I eventually got a hold of D and he thought I was kidding. We hadn't had a bag packed yet as that was going to be done this weekend so he scrambled to get that done while I drove home. By the time I got home I was sure it was indeed my water that had broken and I was having contractions about every 10 minutes apart. We eventually got on the road to the hospital - still calm once we found the camera. Apologized to the dogs and attempted to get a hold of my mom to hopefully be able to take care of the puppies.

Enroute to the hospital the contractions were getting a bit more forceful and closer together - we were at 5-8 minutes apart when we hit the doors of the hospital. My coworkers relieved that I had D and I was no longer driving myself anywhere. I was thankful to have D as well as driving would have been a challenge for me at that point.

We checked in - answered multiple questions got the "you poor dear" look multiple times when discussing what number pregnancy this was for me and eventually they checked and I was 2 cm dilated. Samuel was indeed still breech and trying to make his presence known.

My doctor showed up and said "guess we don't need to even have that conversation about the version anymore since that is no longer an option." 10:00 a.m. was the slated time for me to get to the OR. It was 8:30 when they had checked me the first time and at 9:15 when they checked again I was already 4 cm dilated so 10 a.m. could not come soon enough.

It seemed like forever before they drew blood, started the IV etc, and at the time I could only focus on little things. I became a person who watched the clock. 10 a.m. was the promised land time. Eventually the anesthesiologist got in there and we were able to finally head to the OR. At that time I was having contractions every 1-2 minutes and they were definitely hurting. It was all back labor so the only positions that felt comfortable did not allow anyone to watch Samuel on the monitor. They gave up on that and we were able to get my spinal in and about 30 minutes later Samuel was born.

His apgars were 8 and 9 so excellent. He had the neonatal nurse practitioner present at his birth due to his early arrival. When in recovery we found out that his blood sugar was low and his temperature was low so we spent quite a bit of time in recovery and then Friday and Saturday he had his blood sugar checked every 3 hours prior to meals. Poor guys little heels have definitely taken a beating.

We're still having breastfeeding issues, but things are better than they were. A large part of the problem is that he is undercooked. He's going to take longer to figure this out than a term baby. We just have to be patient and things will all settle in.

We're very in love with the little man and are so happy that he's now here. Even if his arrival was not how I planned - I'm just happy he's here. He's healthy and he's doing fine. So are D and myself.

The dogs are fine - though we apparently need to produce a "how to take care of your grand dogs" video for our parents. 2 grandmothers and a grandfather and they are calling frequently to make sure of how they're supposed to do things. We should be out of the hospital tomorrow and life as we know it will definitely change. We're both looking forward to our own bed though. That's for certain.

The Best Laid Plans

Can go awry...

This morning at 4 a.m. my water broke. I was at work. I didn't realize that was my water that broke until about an hour later when I realized I had a constant leak.

By the time I was checked in at the hospital I was having contractions every 5 minutes. I was 2 cm dilated, and a half hour later I was 4 cm dilated. I was having back labor which stunk. We progressed to contractions every 2-3 minutes and I'm sure I had dilated more as I was feeling much worse. By then my labs had come back - I had signed all consents and I was getting ready to lose my mind.

Samuel David also known as squeaker was born at 11:09 a.m. weighing in at a svelte 5 lbs 15.7 oz and 17 inches long.

We're doing well. Things may be quiet for a bit.

Zero tolerance and... It's Nice to Know I'm Not Alone...

This week has been interesting - I've had to argue with our flexible spending account and am in the process of trying to make that all work out. I've got to still get the piece of paper to prove that our "prescription toothpaste prevedent" is actually what we purchased.

I've been playing phone tag with the county clerk as we're trying to get a transcript of "pe*ophile cousins" plea hearing. I've spoken to an assistant district attorney and know the full details of the crime he committed. The reason why we're going to this length is that D's family still does not understand why we are staying away. We both do not want my in laws to feel as if we're staying away from them, but we can not and will not go to family functions until we are assured he will not be there. We will NOT expose our child to this individual and we hope that when they learn the extent of his crime they will feel the same way. Taking this stance in a family that tends to put their head in the sand is difficult. We're the bad guys right now. The story that was told to my in laws is much different than what actually happened. We've been fighting this battle for about 2 years now and while I'm tired of it, I also know I am not giving up the fight. If it is one of the last things I do for D - this is important that his father understands. I don't think he really cares if his mom does as he feels she has been brainwashed for too many years to be able to take the hard line that we have. D's dad is hopefully able to read the transcript and understand that what he was told was a lie... a cover... a white wash of what actually happened. Everyone seems to forget that D is a cop and I am a nurse and that both of us deal with children that are abused on a way too frequent basis. Even if we didn't we would feel the same way. Zero tolerance... that is what we have.

In other news we've manage to piss off grandma again. Grandma being D's grandma. I prefer the term battle axe and old b*tch. Spiteful vindictive woman... No I don't have any anger at this woman at all? Her sil - D's great aunt was admitted to the hospital - we had no idea of this until she was transferred to a larger hospital and into their ICU. We were getting sketchy reports as to why she was in ICU and after a phone call to the hospital I learned she was in "guarded" condition. That's better than critical, but not as good as stable. She's old. She's frail. She sends us Christmas cards every year and she also inquires about us. She has always been nice to me when at family gatherings and actually interacted with both D and myself. She genuinely cared. We didn't feel it was fake. We still do not. I did not talk to great aunt, but I did send an "e-greeting" to the hospital as they offered this as an option. It was maybe 2 sentences. D's great aunt and grandma truthfully don't get along all that well - grandma is b*tchy to everyone so this is not a surprise. Well great aunt was tickled by our "e-greeting" and said something to grandma about it. Grandma apparently was "hurt" that we had not sent her a card. A) she's not in the hospital, b) she never sends us cards and c) she's awful to me. Why would I send a card? My fil said "well she didn't say it, but I can read her mind and it really bothers her that D doesn't come to family functions and doesn't call." First - D didn't call before all of the above occurred and second - she's not in the hospital. If she was she'd get an "e-greeting" as well. I've since sent out a get well card to great aunt... I'm sure that will send grandma about over the edge. Piss me off and I'll send a get well card or sympathy card to her as well.

D's dad asked me to talk to D and see if he would call grandma. I laughed at this because seriously does he think I am the puppet master? I handed the phone to D and D responded to his dad with - I'll put it on my list - it's right beneath fixing that pipe in the basement that leaks that I still haven't fixed in the 2 years we've lived here. (No D isn't angry at all.) He's so happy we live over here rather than over there.

Who would have thought I'd say "thank goodness my family is "normal" Because normal is not the word to use to describe my family. So - who wants to take bets as to whether grandma will be at the baby shower? At this point I'm hoping for not.

On to the second half - It's Nice to Know I'm Not Alone...
*Pregnancy crap and paranoia ahead - be prepared*




After that conference in June I decided I needed to check out the M.I.S.S Foundation forums to see if I would find a home. A place that people would understand what I was feeling. While I know my losses were all early, my family losses tend to leave you with that inability to catch your breath just at the thought. It took me a bit, but after lurking for a while I posted my thoughts. The response I got was what I needed... it's normal. Because voicing the thoughts I've had seriously to "normal" people tends to leave them looking at you as if you've lost your freaking mind. While I know I haven't, it means I watch my words very carefully - even in this forum. I don't want smoke blown up my tookus - I want honesty. Sunday or Monday I didn't notice movement and of course a coworker had had the unlucky timing of mentioning that her daughter's gymnastic teacher had had a stillborn at 24 weeks this week and how awful that was. I came home that morning because of course NN was being a pita and not moving around like normal and grabbed the doppler out and found the heartbeat. I haven't pulled that out in a while so this was a new development. I posted this story in the forum and I finally heard "this is so normal". I needed that. I needed that because truthfully if I would have told this story to my OB he probably would have looked at me sideways and I would have had to kick him. I also know I didn't mention it to my coworkers because - again - they then look at me as if I have suddenly sprouted 2 heads.

No - I'm not comfortable with talking as if everything will be great. Primarily for the jinx factor. We're going through the motions that we are on the path of all being fine, but we are not in a comfortable state and I doubt we will be until the arrival of the NN. Making plans for the NN arrival means we talk quietly and D nags me to get on the ball about listening to the hypnobirthing cd's I should be listening to. Ultimately it means we do what is comfortable for us and what causes the least amount of anxiety. I forget that I am pregnant sometimes. My boobs are still out farther than my belly and truthfully I just look like I have a spare tire around my lower abdomen. I don't rub my belly like some pregnant women do when out in public. I don't do it because it's not something I do and also because I don't want to attract attention. Going into baby stores causes both of us anxiety - when someone asks when are you due?- we both go "God willing 9/30." Again - weird looks from store clerks. We've refused to get on mailing lists because I know how Mandy felt when things started arriving on her due date. Educating clerks about these things is always interesting. It makes me seem bitchy and paranoid and truthfully - I'm okay with that.

Ultimately in other forums - rather than this blog I do think of the happy ending.. I just can't put a voice to it yet. I probably won't be able to until the NN is here.