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“Bigger than average”

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We had a biophysical profile ultrasound today. Fluids are good, blood flow is good and he is head down and in an anterior position. Yay.

The tech started the ultrasound by saying, “Oh wow, you don’t have much fluid in there.” and of course my stomach dropped out of my body. Then she poked around and, ya know, actually measured the fluid while I tried not to cry or panic. She then said there was a lot more fluid in there than she thought.

So thanks for the heart attack. Jerk.

Wesley was super stubborn and despite making my stomach jump and bounce all over the place in the waiting room he decided to take a snooze during the actual ultrasound. One of the things they have to look at is movement so she was poking him and shaking him and he would. not. move. I finally asked Joel to talk to him and sure enough, he kicked a few times. Baby boy loves his daddy’s voice.

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One thing he would not do was move was his hand away from his face though. So we got a little glimpse of his nose and mouth but that’s it. Every single ultrasound his hands have been up by his head. It’s kind of adorable but I really hope he moves those little hands for the delivery because, no matter how tiny his hands are, I don’t want them to try to fit through me with his head. Ugh.

Also, they estimate he’s 8lbs 2oz. In the words of the doctor he’s “a little bigger than average.”

And yeah, I know the measurements are not generally all that accurate but I’m still kind of freaking my freak over here. Because the measurements can be wrong the other way too. As in, he might be bigger than 8lbs. And he is not coming out yet. And he’s just getting bigger every minute he stays in me.

Excuse me while I faint.

It’s probably a good thing for my sanity that I go to such a laid back OB/midwife practice. Seriously, one visit to a high risk office where they tell me “He’s going to come out all dried out and wrinkled” and, when I tell them I haven’t been contracting much and the ones I have aren’t really uncomfortable, they say “well that’s not going to do anything at all” and it spirals me into an emotional hole.

Yesterday I was all zen. Today I spent most of the day ugly crying and terrified of pushing out a giant baby with a nuchal hand. It was not pretty.

Wesley-40-Weeks-Plus-5-Days-Photos-4

I had a bit of an epiphany earlier this evening and realized why all the advice for starting labor was getting to me so much. I know that the people who give it are trying to be nice and helpful. I’m definitely not mad at anyone for trying to help. It’s just, when people say “try x or y” it makes me feel like I’m not doing enough to get this baby out. Like, if I would have drank more tea or taken more supplements or walked further or had more sex or… or… or… he’d be here already. If I could just find the thing to do or do the thing enough I’d be holding my baby. Every moment I spend lying on the couch feels like I’m failing, even if the reason I’m lying down is because I feel like my pelvis is going to rip in half if I take one more step.

You would think that hearing that my baby is healthy and there are no issues would put me in a great mood. And yet somehow I left that appointment feeling completely terrified, defeated and like a failure. I’m really thankful for my friends on Facebook because they helped talk me down from my hysterics. I’m also thankful for my husband because he really does his best to stay calm and take my roller coaster of emotions in stride.

I know it’s not my fault he’s not here yet. Now if only I could get what I know and what I feel to match.

“Bigger than average”

Wesley-40-Weeks-Plus-5-Days-Photos-6

We had a biophysical profile ultrasound today. Fluids are good, blood flow is good and he is head down and in an anterior position. Yay.

The tech started the ultrasound by saying, “Oh wow, you don’t have much fluid in there.” and of course my stomach dropped out of my body. Then she poked around and, ya know, actually measured the fluid while I tried not to cry or panic. She then said there was a lot more fluid in there than she thought.

So thanks for the heart attack. Jerk.

Wesley was super stubborn and despite making my stomach jump and bounce all over the place in the waiting room he decided to take a snooze during the actual ultrasound. One of the things they have to look at is movement so she was poking him and shaking him and he would. not. move. I finally asked Joel to talk to him and sure enough, he kicked a few times. Baby boy loves his daddy’s voice.

Wesley-40-Weeks-Plus-5-Days-Photos-2

One thing he would not do was move was his hand away from his face though. So we got a little glimpse of his nose and mouth but that’s it. Every single ultrasound his hands have been up by his head. It’s kind of adorable but I really hope he moves those little hands for the delivery because, no matter how tiny his hands are, I don’t want them to try to fit through me with his head. Ugh.

Also, they estimate he’s 8lbs 2oz. In the words of the doctor he’s “a little bigger than average.”

And yeah, I know the measurements are not generally all that accurate but I’m still kind of freaking my freak over here. Because the measurements can be wrong the other way too. As in, he might be bigger than 8lbs. And he is not coming out yet. And he’s just getting bigger every minute he stays in me.

Excuse me while I faint.

It’s probably a good thing for my sanity that I go to such a laid back OB/midwife practice. Seriously, one visit to a high risk office where they tell me “He’s going to come out all dried out and wrinkled” and, when I tell them I haven’t been contracting much and the ones I have aren’t really uncomfortable, they say “well that’s not going to do anything at all” and it spirals me into an emotional hole.

Yesterday I was all zen. Today I spent most of the day ugly crying and terrified of pushing out a giant baby with a nuchal hand. It was not pretty.

Wesley-40-Weeks-Plus-5-Days-Photos-4

I had a bit of an epiphany earlier this evening and realized why all the advice for starting labor was getting to me so much. I know that the people who give it are trying to be nice and helpful. I’m definitely not mad at anyone for trying to help. It’s just, when people say “try x or y” it makes me feel like I’m not doing enough to get this baby out. Like, if I would have drank more tea or taken more supplements or walked further or had more sex or… or… or… he’d be here already. If I could just find the thing to do or do the thing enough I’d be holding my baby. Every moment I spend lying on the couch feels like I’m failing, even if the reason I’m lying down is because I feel like my pelvis is going to rip in half if I take one more step.

You would think that hearing that my baby is healthy and there are no issues would put me in a great mood. And yet somehow I left that appointment feeling completely terrified, defeated and like a failure. I’m really thankful for my friends on Facebook because they helped talk me down from my hysterics. I’m also thankful for my husband because he really does his best to stay calm and take my roller coaster of emotions in stride.

I know it’s not my fault he’s not here yet. Now if only I could get what I know and what I feel to match.

Surprise Baby Shower!

I’m still so completely blown away that this happened. Joel wrote about the planning process on his blog. I’m honestly still in disbelief that he kept a secret for that long. I have to practically force him to not give me birthday or Christmas presents the moment he buys them and usually all I have to do is question him and he gets the guiltiest look on his face. He is an open book.

Except I guess not anymore because wow did he keep a secret.

Actually, I think the fact that I assumed he couldn’t keep a secret worked in everyone’s favor here because I truly thought there was no way I could be having a surprise baby shower without Joel spilling the beans to me at some point. People asked me if I was really surprised and the answer is YES. It’s not that I didn’t have many times where I was a little suspicious but Joel had a quick answer for ev.er.y.thing.

I asked him why a childcare interview would be scheduled on a Saturday and he told me it was an open house. Oh, makes sense. He even had the director call me earlier in the week and confirm our appointment! That is some serious commitment. There were so many other details that went into keeping it from me. You really should read his post about it. It will blow your mind.

So yeah, really extremely surprised. Can you tell?

surprise

Shower015

The theme was travel which is obviously perfection. So many cute little details.

So many people I love were there and so many more told me how much they wished they could have been (after the fact of course, no one said a peep to me before). I didn’t get pictures with everyone but I’m so excited for each and every person that showed up. So much love.

We were utterly and completely spoiled with gifts. Seriously this little guy is completely set.

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Also, had to point out this picture because it cracks. me. up. My face! I don’t even know, but clearly I was excited.

As I said yesterday we had planned to wait to announce our little guy’s name until he was born… but I clearly have no patience. We had a couple options early on but quickly fell in love with one. We have been calling him by his name for months and after almost slipping dozens of times we agreed to share it with family. I also mentioned that if I had a shower it would be neat to reveal his name publicly there. Joel remembered that and so, if you attended you got the first look at our little boy’s name….

which is….

dramatic pause….

Shower016

Wesley!

My sister-in-law made that name from wood and covered it in maps from places Joel and I have been. So freaking amazing. It will hang in his nursery… when we get a place with more than one bedroom.

It was truly such a special day. So many people worked so hard to make every detail come together. It was pure magic and I will never forget it. I’m still floating on a happy high more than a week later.

More behind the meaning of the name and a cute little video on Joel’s blog. Go see!

Gender reveal!

Today we had our 20 week anatomy scan. In the words of the doctor the baby is perfect.

I definitely agree.

We also lucked out and had the best ultrasound tech. She walked us through everything she was doing and why which is great because unless you’re trained everything pretty much looks the same. Or at least it does to me. Honestly I was really afraid I would be all:

But no, it was very clearly a baby and a cute one if I do say so myself.

Also, the hands? Tucked under their face the whole time.

Serious swooning happened on my part.

Anyway, we’ve actually known the gender for awhile. Like, an entire month.

*gasp* I know.

But the thing was, a month ago we went to one of those 3D this is not a medical ultrasound!!1! places with a tech that would. not. stop. saying “Cute baby! There’s the cute baby. Hi cute baby! What a cutie baby!” I mean, I appreciated her enthusiasm but seriously, at 16 weeks it more resembled Skeletor or an alien than a baby. All that to say I wanted to be totally sure about things before we announced it to more than just our family.

We also didn’t see the actual bits because we wanted to be surprised along with our family. So, while we were pretty sure, I felt better about having an actual doctor confirm things.

Anyway, without further ado:

Our friend was kind enough to bake the cake for us so we could be surprised as we cut. It was seriously delicious.

Can you see?

It’s a boy!

No potty shot because who wants that on the internet? But trust me, there’s no question. He’s a healthy 14oz or so and all his parts look to be in working order. We have a short list of names but we’re making the final decision once we actually get to meet him.

We are so very excited.

Thank you

It has been four weeks since we saw nothing on the ultrasound.

Three weeks since it was confirmed that the pregnancy was not viable.

Two weeks since my D&C.

In that time I have received a lifetime’s worth of love from each and every one of you. It has taken me so long to write this because I don’t know how to do justice to how much your words have meant to me over the last month. Thank you just doesn’t seem like enough.

Every tweet, every comment, every email, every phone call, every kind word was like a hug. Each word was like air when I was drowning in pain.

I cannot express how much it all meant to me. Still means to me. My words are not enough to express how incredibly grateful I am to each and every one of you. I wish I could personally hug each of you.

At a time when I felt so utterly lost and alone and honestly wondered if I would ever find any light or any happiness ever again you all sent me that love and light through your words. Without you all I have no idea where I would be. Probably still drowning in despair. Instead I am healing and each one of you deserves some credit for that.

Thank you.

Thank you, thank you, a million times thank you.

I often find it easier to communicate through music. I listened to this song on repeat during this whole process. I first heard it on Weeds, and apparently that’s all Youtube knows it from also. Ignore the background, it’s about the words.

Holding onto the happiness

Tonight was a beautiful night.

I missed four dance classes while I was in hiding so I am taking a jazz class right before my company class for the next four weeks to make up for it. That means two hours of dance in a row. After two weeks of doing almost nothing but lie around my muscles were nervous.

It was positively blissful.

I worked hard and sweated like crazy and my body is pretty sore already. The thing is, I laughed so much I’m not sure if my sore abs are from the dancing or the giggling. It was just that much fun. I’ve been taking lessons there since October and this whole ordeal made me realize that in that time I made friends. Not just other students who take classes with me, but friends.

Tonight I received more hugs and words of sympathy but in a way more importantly I had fun. I laughed. A lot. It felt so good.

I’m not over it. I’m starting to realize that getting over it is probably an unrealistic goal. From what I’ve been told no one really “gets over” a miscarriage. It’s a part of me forever whether I like it or not. That was such a depressing, overwhelming thought before.

Tonight I realized that even if I’m never over it I can still find myself again. I will laugh and have happiness. My future doesn’t have to be dark.

I’m holding onto that feeling. Happiness is worth holding onto.

Embracing the sad

There was a time I didn’t know how to cry. I noticed when I was 10. I was in a movie (part of a college student’s portfolio) and couldn’t muster up any of the tears that were necessary to play my part.

I faked it, but not well. Oscar worthy performance it was not.

But after that it became my mission to teach myself to cry.

Ironically it was around that time that my world turned upside down. My mom got sick and suddenly wasn’t around much anymore. That’s a story for a different time but my lack of emotion became really obvious. Things were happening that I should have cried over but I was like a rock. Just, nothing.

I couldn’t feel a thing.

I know now I was probably protecting myself. The thing was, I realized that while not feeling the pain was nice I also never really felt any good emotions either. I was blank. Empty.

Empty is so much worse than pain.

I can’t remember my exact journey away from numbness. I don’t think I ever had an epiphany that woke me up. But I did wake up. I taught myself to cry. Crying is a cleansing act. When your capacity for feeling reaches new lows it also reaches new highs. It’s impossible for it to go one way.

It’s been so long since I inadvertently learned that lesson that I’d kind of forgotten it. I’ve read several posts recently about being alone and finding a group, etc. They make me sad. I still have yet to find my “tribe.”

It’s something I want so badly and feeling sad about it all the time sucks.  Tonight I found myself sitting here wishing I could just shut that part of me off and not feel sad anymore. Just be numb.

But then it came rushing back to me. Numb isn’t all that great either. In fact, it probably sucks more.

So I’m embracing the sad. I accept that it’s part of who I am right now. I know, like everything this will pass. I will move on and grow and change and all that. I’ll look back on this lonely time and remember how much it sucked.

I’m guessing it’s like dating. When you want a relationship so fucking desperately it tends to elude. Relationships, at least good ones, seem to come to those who aren’t actively looking for one.

I have a feeling that once I embrace this feeling and become comfortable with my situation that’s when I’ll find my place. I will cry my cleansing tears and I will stop being ashamed of how I feel.

I’m lonely.

I’m sad.

I want a group of friends.

That is okay.

I will have a group someday.

And when I have that and I’m sitting around having coffee with friends and laughing until our stomachs hurt. Or reaching over to text my friend something neat that happened. Or being there to listen when my friend is hurting I will feel that too.

If the low of being lonely hurts this much then the high of finally finding my tribe is going to be pretty amazing.

Wanted

I’ve been staring at this screen forever.

Blank.

That’s what I’ve come up with so far.

With the obvious exception of the words I just typed.

Blank.

Actually, it’s another one of those instances where my mind is too full. So many thoughts swimming around in my head. I wish I could catch them all and put them on this screen.

But they don’t want to be caught.

And so they swim and they take up all the creative energy I could have. I need a space I can write. I mean really pour my heart out.

Or I need someone to whom I can pour out my heart.

It’s tough not having any real girl friends. Because there are certain things that just don’t sound the same when said out loud to your husband or guy friend. Boys are strange creatures.

Strange but much easier to befriend. Why is that?

I can’t be the only girl who has trouble keeping friendships with other women. It’s so annoying.

I should come up with a friend application…

Wanted:

Friend, must be female. Good balance of listener and chatty. Unlimited texts and cell minutes a plus. Those with a tendency to judge need not apply.

Or something like that.

Girls are tricky. I know I am. And other women? I understand even less.

I wish friends weren’t so important to me. It would be a lot easier if I just didn’t mind.

I’m open to almost anything at this point. I just need someone to listen.

Anyone?

Boxes of emotions

I picked up some old boxes from my mom’s house the other day. My life from childhood until 18 is in those boxes.

It’s so hard to express how full of feeling these boxes make me. The emotions tied to each piece of paper are intense.

Happiness

I remember the nights of staying up late, promising forever friendship and sharing secrets.

…the giggling and laughing until my stomach hurt and I couldn’t breath.

…my best friend running up and in breathless excitement telling me she was moving to Florida.

…how I felt like someone hit me in the stomach with a 2×4 at that moment.

…crying and missing her.

…getting letters.

…meaning to write back.

I never really did.

I lost that friend because I never made time to stay in touch.

Regret

Insecurity

I remember never feeling quite right in any clothes.

…feeling fat.

…feeling ugly.

….getting a compliment.

…instantly feeling beautiful right afterward.

…going on “diets”

…eating nothing but junk food.

…learning what it meant to feel sexy.

Confidence

Crushes

I remember the brief looks and almost innocent touches.

…the whispers and not so subtle giggles and glances.

…notes written between friends.

…acting disinterested.

…acting way too interested.

…playing hard to get.

…falling in love.

…falling out of love.

Heartbreak

I remember feeling sad and alone and angry at the world. I remember feeling like every little thing was the end of the world. It was all that was. I now realize how little and unimportant those things were.

I also remember thinking I’d get to things that weren’t very important. I now realize how infinitely important those things were. I wonder how different my life would be if I wouldn’t have neglected the people who were truly important to me.

I wonder if I’ve learned that lesson yet.

It’s amazing what looking through old letters, cards, pictures and home videos can bring into your mind. So many emotions, packed tightly away where I didn’t have to think or deal with them. I’m slowly pulling them back out and examining them. If I can finally learn the lessons I should have learned before I packed them away, maybe in 20 years my new set of boxes will bring more positive feelings than negative ones.

Hopefully.

Pointless Ramblings

I’ve had a long couple of days at work. Or weeks. Or months. Whatever I’m tired.

Being tired makes me much less inspired when it comes to blogging. I have no stories.

No, that’s not true. I have a million stories but not one I can put on a public blog.

I have no funny videos. I have some cute pictures but I’m saving them for Wednesday. So basically I’m idea-less. Fun.

When that happens I try to go through my archives and find something I started and never finished. Often that little bit of inspiration makes writing much easier. Sometimes I even get a completely different idea out of reading through a couple half finished posts.

This time however I noticed a trend. It’s a trend that I’m not sure is a good one. The trend is sad. All these half finished posts are depressing and that’s why I didn’t finish them. See, “real” people read this blog. When I say real I mean people I actually see face to face on a semi regular basis. This makes it hard for me to pour my guts out on here. Yesterday’s post was just a glimpse of what’s been churning under the surface for awhile now. I was thisclose to not hitting publish. And several times since I’ve been thisclose to taking it down.

The sad thing is, it’s not even that deep of a post I don’t think. Not compared to some of the amazing blogs I read. It’s not everything I wanted to say. I hate reading vague statuses and posts. That’s all I feel like I publish anymore.

I think part of it is because I’m so tired. It’s harder for me to laugh things off when I’m so tired I could cry. I really enjoy my job, especially since it’s grown so much over the last several weeks. It’s exciting. It’s also exhausting. It’s mostly mental exhaustion.

It’s biting my tongue when I want to talk.

It’s finding a balance between friendship and getting shit done.

I want to be a good manager. I also want to keep the friendships I’ve started. I’m afraid I can’t do both. Not that I’m awesome at keeping friends anyway…

I need to get back into acting. Or dancing. Or taekwondo…. Or something that allows me to be incredibly physical in my stress relief. I mean, being married does offer some activities that are good for that…. but, you know, mixing things up a bit.

Or something.

So basically I’ve just rambled for 400 words or so. And…. I’m not sure where all these words have gotten me exactly. I guess to the conclusion that I need to take a class.

Or start an anonymous blog…. who’s with me?

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