Josh won the woot lottery.

Posted on June 10, 2010 by Jen

And my crap didn’t go through. Story of my life… however, in this case it works out.

If you’re not familiar with Woot!, they are a one item a day sale site (that happens to be headquartered about ten, maybe fifteen minutes away from here). I can’t remember how long they’ve been around, I know that my username is from 2006. Normally they sell an item a day, if it sells out then it sells out. Once or twice a month, they have a ‘Woot-Off’ – which is where they sell items until they sell out, then move onto the next item. Sometime (randomly) during each Woot-Off they sell a ‘Bag of Crap’ – used to, you could order up to three, and now it’s just one crap order and they automatically assume everyone gets three craps. Anytime the BoC comes up (best abbreviation I’ve seen in a while was BP Oil Catastrophe!) thousands and thousands of people most of whom are using some kind of Woot tracker click the buy now button and hope for some crap. It’s $3.00 for the crap plus $5.00 shipping.

Josh scored a BoC, finally, after five years of trying. Not only did he score, he tapped, stroked, and impregnated as well – he got a handwritten letter from ‘threepiecewoot’. Sometime in the next week or so we’re going to get something shipped by a freight delivery service. Absolutely no idea what, we don’t even know the ‘when’ yet. In the past, people have gotten things like multiple 40″+ HDTV’s, 1000 identical action figures, 800 containers of car wax. We’re going to get something splendid. It’s crappy. It’s woottastic!


Our craptastic haul (minus the surprise):

1 – Wine.Woot bag, holds four bottles of wine
2 – The Munsters action figures – Grandpa and Eddie
1 – Wyatt Earp action figure
1 – Sound activated light up Snowman
3 – Classic Marvel Battle Team-Up’s – Thor/Hulk, 2 Spider-Man/Green Goblin
1 – Pez ‘Handy Dandy’ puppet
6 – Disney Director Pack boxes for a Flix Video Camera
2 – ‘Folk Art’ Face Wall Decoration pieces
1 – Hand drawn, Hand written note from ‘threepiecewoot’ saying that our last crap item was too big for the box and would be shipped seperately

It sucks, on one hand I want to be jealous, but since in the end it’s still our stuff… we got a bag of crap, la-lala-lala-la-la. =D

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This blog would rock.

Posted on June 4, 2010 by Jen

If I had interesting things to say and didn’t just use it as a way to complain all the time.

Well, when I post on it, anyways. I totally missed the month of May – I think that’s the first one I’ve skipped since I switched domains a few years ago. /sigh

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And for my yearly ritual…

Posted on April 19, 2010 by Jen

http://www.quiddityingot.com/?p=59

(It’s easier than posting it again, and again… ;) )

How am I doing? Well, I can’t believe that I’m thirty. I don’t *feel* thirty, in fact, I barely feel 23. I don’t look any older than that (which I suppose is a good thing), either.

I’m having more good or at least baseline days than I am bad ones. I’m still missing the usual happy go lucky mood that I normally spend my life in, so I’m hoping that’ll eventually return. Liam’s kicking my ass, he’s been waking up in the middle of the night the last few nights. I don’t do well without sleep, at all. Now that I’m re-accustomed to sleeping at night for stretches that aren’t interrupted, having it interrupted is horrible. I just need my sleep, dammit. I’m still filled with this incredible amount of guilt over breastfeeding, I feel guilty that I didn’t try for a VBAC, I feel guilty that I wasn’t functionally able to demand my child sooner after he was born (six hours apart at the time wasn’t so bad, but now, it should have been different – I was too drugged up, too sleepy, too overwhelmed…. and I keep feeling like Liam is suffering for it). I keep seeing all this press about how the breast is best, and how the first hour after they are born is when you should really establish good latching while their instincts are good… and I failed. I failed with Brian, and I failed with Liam. Now he’s covered in eczema, he’s allergic to everything, his super expensive formula is eating away at what little money we have, and it’s all coming back to the fact that I couldn’t manage to get him on the breast.

I could keep going. I beat myself up over it every day, and part of me wants to figure out how to get past it and the other part feels guilty that I’d want to get past it. I know, logically, that I’m going to have to just let go and deal with it, but… yeah. I feel bad that I didn’t keep pumping, I feel bad that I feel like I copped out, that I used all the mastitis infections as an excuse to quit (all the while feeling like Liam would do fine on formula, that I wasn’t going to be depriving him of anything… You’re getting the idea.

Other than that, life’s sort of getting back to normal.

Birthday wise, we’re poor. We went to Atlanta during Brian’s spring break, which coincided with Alison’s having birthed my new nephew Samuel.

They are just adorable. :p

I was on the computer a few days ago while they were playing on the floor behind me. Brian asks me to turn around, to look at them, because they were hiding. It’s going to be so much fun watching them grow, I’m glad that they will have each other.

I bought two matching coffee mugs at Starbucks the other day. I’m going to order this http://www.nelleandlizzy.com/index.php?p=product&id=3&parent=1 once the sizer gets here and I figure out what size my right ring finger is, with the kids’ names on them. And, I’ll probably (hopefully?) make it up to McKinney to the Vera Bradley store to use my $20 off a $20 purchase coupon. Pretty awesome, for being super poor. ;)

.

.

edit – Oh my fucking god. It’s my birthday, for christ’s sake. *screams*

So, today’s been pretty normal. (Liam got up at 2am to eat, I got back to sleep around a quarter to four, he’s back awake at 6:30 to eat, Brian got up at 7, which meant that I was up for good..) Read Brian this hugely long chapter book, got a shower, got Brian a shower, made him something to eat and me a pot of coffee, and got him to school. Liam and I drove to Wal-Mart to buy formula (you’d never guess judging by how often he’s eating that we’d need to do that, right?). I got to Wal-Mart, went to park, and was going to wait on this guy to drive past to pull into the spot but he turned on his turn signal to indicate that he was going to park where I was parking (there were two spaces), so I just pulled in. I got out of the car and he was sitting there with his window down, music playing decently loudly, and said hey. I replied ‘hello’, and he said ‘you have a real pretty smile’ – which was weird, since I was already giving him the not so much smile as the dude you’re creepy why are you talking to me smile. I went into the store and bought my $50 worth of Alimentium using my birthday money from my wonderful parents, came back out, got the formula/toilet paper/kid/diaper bag in the back seat, got in the car, and pulled out. What do I see?

Mister weird scary black man standing there with his penis hanging out, erect, with a condom on it. One of his hands is holding a cell phone, the other is holding his penis, and he’s manipulating it with this weird grin on his face.

Oh my fucking god, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

I drive away, thinking a combination of ‘you’ve got to be fucking kidding’ and ‘why does this shit always happen to me’, when I think… I need to call the police. So, me being me, I turn the car around and drive back down the aisle. I pause right in front of his car (he’s standing with his back to traffic, his front inside his car in the back passenger door) long enough to get the license plate number and look real good at the car and keep going, with my hand hitting ‘send’ on my phone. The very first thing I say to the 911 lady is the license plate number, so I’m about 99.5% sure that I got it right. I gave them the info they wanted while adding ‘I’m not sticking around, obviously’, and drove away. Called Josh all freaked out (I’m *sure* he just loves it when I call him at work, it’s always something bad!), then drove around for a while. I’d just about decided that I wanted to sit in the line at McDonald’s and get some chicken nuggets when my phone rang, it was the policeman responding to the report. He was gone (go figure).

Policeman asked a lot more in depth questions, asked my information (including my birthday, to which I replied ‘Today. 1980.’), asked if I’d be able to identify him again if I saw him (probably) and how certain I was on the license plate number (basically 100%). He made sure to tell me Happy Birthday twice … yeah. Great birthday, happy you’re now 30, right? I didn’t get my nuggets, I just went home.

Thought this was the end, right?

Ha.

Brian’s bus gets here, and the bus driver stops to talk – she does sometimes, checks up on the baby, real nice lady. Well, she said that you know Mr Williams? (He’s this huge black fellow that lives a few units away, he’d been sick recently and hadn’t been driving his school bus route, diabetes/HBP/blown out knee that they wouldn’t do surgery on because he wasn’t healthy enough.) They found him last night.

Yeah. Dude died. Josh had seen two police cars when he came home, and Kevin and Brian saw them when they got back, but aside from seeing a women outside talking to the police, I didn’t think anything else of it. I figured it was a domestic dispute. Welll… Yeah, I guess it was. She said that he’d been dead a few days, too.

Oh yeah – Happy Waco Texas Massacre day, and Happy Oklahoma City Bombing Day!

:|

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Erm. Rattle. No, sound. No, toy. Well..

Posted on March 5, 2010 by Jen

You’d think I’d learn my lesson, but no.  I guess one of the hallmarks of depression is not recognizing that you’re actually depressed.  I’d say that I’ve been dealing with some moderately decent postpartum depression since Christmas.  Honestly, probably since we were in the hospital,  but it’s so hard to tell the difference when you’ve gone days without a decent amount/stretch of sleep.  If sleep was the only problem, it would have been fixed about a month ago when Liam went from waking up every three to four hours to eat, to sleeping from 9pm to 9am.  Yeah.  A seven week old sleeping twelve hours at a time.  I should be ecstatic.

I have a laundry list of crap, so it shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone that my brain isn’t functioning normally:

  • New baby.
  • Brian spending basically two weeks with Kevin and my parents, which resulted in behavior changes that I’m still dealing with.
  • The entire Christmas fiasco that was detailed in a prior post. No need to rehash, aside from mentioning that I still can’t look at any of the pictures taken from that day aside from the ones that Josh and I took ourselves.
  • Josh going back to work after spending five weeks at home with us, and the resulting stress he feels about money/bills/etc – which leads to my worrying about the same.
  • Mastitis three times in seven weeks, which resulted in Josh basically telling me that I wasn’t going to pump anymore because we can’t afford the doctor’s visits, ultrasounds, medicine, and the effect that the infections had on me.
  • Unbelievable guilt that I can’t breastfeed, I can’t pump it out and feed it to him, and I have no alternative but formula.
  • Brian getting sicker (he’s had a stuffy nose/cough since before Christmas, but since he did last year too and endless doctor visits got me nowhere I chalked it up to allergies, but one night it just magnified ten fold plus fever) going to the doctor and getting antibiotics and an inhaler, Josh getting sick (doctor, antibiotics), Liam and I getting sick, which lead to Liam’s doctor visit and a positive test for RSV, which explains what all four of us have/had/have.
  • Coming home the Friday before last to discover the front door open and the deadbolt/lock hanging out of the door. (the police believe that the robber was inside when he/she/they heard me opening the backdoor and took off. The only things stolen were our HDDVD DirecTV box and an external HD. My (new, widescreen, 24″, 2048×1152 resolution) monitor had been moved sideways on my desk like they were trying to unhook it. The Wii and the PS3 had been moved to the sides (double shelved television stand, the 50″ plasma hadn’t been touched, nor had the Xbox 360 or the speaker that was on the shelf with them, just the bottom shelf had been messed with) The police were able to lift prints off the Wii – I just hope they belong to someone other than Josh!)
  • Getting an alarm installed three days after our home was burglarized. At least I found out that I’ve got A1 credit, roffles. (Since my FICO score when we bought the Highlander last year was 783, I’m assuming this means that it’s over 800 now. Sweet – I can’t buy anything because we’re perpetually broke, but damned if I don’t have great credit?)
  • Smaller things, like Josh’s mom. For example, she called yesterday and immediately asked to speak to Brian. Spent fifteen minutes on the phone with him and then hung up. No asking me how we’re doing, no asking about Liam, nothing. I guess Liam doesn’t exist. Josh asked her about it later last night, and she made excuses about how she was short on time and Brian didn’t hand me the phone after they were done, and she had only been on the phone with him a minute, etc. /facepalm
  • I guess I can also mention the fact that we most likely can’t afford an IUD right now (the doctor said the bill a standard $200 insertion fee and $800 for the device, who knows what our negotiated rate is, so I never made the appointment) and I still haven’t started my period (eleven weeks postpartum now!), so I’m sure that’s contributing to the hormonal imbalance.

I feel like we’re bleeding out our behinds, and there’s so much more that I’d love to do. My glasses are almost four years old at this point, so aside from needing to get my prescription checked (and we’re not mentioning the fact that I just had a baby, which messes with your vision anyways) the photo-grey lenses are breaking down – I look like I’ve got reverse raccoon eyes. My teeth are a never ending money pit, I’m just insanely lucky that none of them have abscessed yet/lately. Bras? LOL. My boobs, which didn’t really change shape with Brian, are now a full cup size larger than they were. Where is the only place that you can buy fat people clothes, and big boobed fat people bras? Oh yeah, that’s right – Lane Bryant. I think if they grow any more, I’m going to have to order bras off their website anyways – they only go up to a DDD cup in store! Family portraits? I’ve only been intending to get those done for two or three years now. It’s even more important now, you know, now that I feel like I do have a nice meshed happy little family. Clothes? I’ve only got one pair of pants that fit well enough to wear without falling down, since I weigh so much less than I did before I got pregnant, but ignoring the fact that we have no money, I’m afraid to buy anything because I’m afraid I’ll just eat myself back fatter again.

I totally feel like this post is one huge bitchfest, by the way.

House. I’d lovelovelove a new house. You know, front door broken into, insane electric bills, jihadist neighbors, one and a half bedrooms/one bath for four people, wood floor bowing up due to broken foundation leaks.. that’s another never-ending description. Once we get all the medical bills paid off, all the credit card debt paid off/down, we can start re-saving for a house. (Note to self: This is why you don’t need to fuck up and end up pregnant. Seriously.) Josh needs to go to a dermatologist, the doctor’s going to have a field day with all his moles, etc.

I could totally keep going.

So, yeah. Money pit. Bleeding out our behind, might as well be the national debt balance. Yeah, that. Our totals for that four days in the hospital, covering everything for myself and Liam?

Total amount billed: $35235.51
Total amount applied to deductable: $11345.89
Patient (our) responsibility: $1519.44

Anyone wondering yet why our health care system is a mess?

Liam’s found his hands. He squirmed out of his swaddle last night and got a hand out the top. Woke me up sucking on his entire hand – which is adorable. He’s wanting the pacifier less and less, which sucks, but if he’s going to replace it with his hand.. at least he’s self soothing, which is more than Brian ever did. He’s getting amazingly good at head controlling, we bought him a Bumbo the other night and he loves it. It lets him sit up and watch, and his head just barely bobs. Of course, he’d rather sit up on his own than he would roll over – who can blame him? He can’t see anything laying down!

His eczema sucks, by the way. Half of his fussiness (and he’s honestly not a fussy baby) is because he’s itching to death and I won’t let him scratch himself raw. I’m doing my best with lotion and aquaphor to keep it (the skin eruptions) calmed down, but I can’t figure out what’s causing it (if anything, at least environmental). Who knows. For all I know, it just could be randomly sensitive skin and he’s screwed.

I remember feeling like this with Brian, too. I remember going through days eating malt balls (hey, body, remember those thirty pounds you gained back? Sure tasted good…) and robot functioning. The loneliness, the being alone with a tiny squalling baby, the worrying about Kevin, the fuckedupness of our relationship… I made it through it, some how. To be honest, the more I look back and think, the more I wonder if I didn’t really pop out of it until Kevin and I had basically ended our relationship, fourteen months after Brian was born. Makes sense, in retrospect.

I don’t know. I know that some days are good, and more days haven’t been good. Some have been completely horrible – I can’t tell you how many days I’ve wanted to either eat myself into Violet Beauregarde or starve myself into Gandhi (at least I’ve only gained back five pounds, so far – I started at 241, got up to 260, delivered the rat, got down to 219, and I’m at about 224 now), how many times I’ve screamed at the kids, how many times I’ve overreacted over something, horribly. How Josh can say something and it’s a complete mental shift, that fast. He can see it on my face, I know he can. It sucks that I didn’t/do/more so didn’t couldn’t do anything about it. I think it’s been better in the last week or so, and I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that we sat down one night and I started talking. He’d been saying for a while that my head was screwed up, but my head wasn’t listening to him.

At least it is now. (I’d call that improvement.)

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It’s an update.

Posted on February 27, 2010 by Jen

Who knows how much of one, I don’t get a lot of time to sit and do.  Go figure.  ;)

Kid was born December 16th.  First case of mastitis December 31st.  Second was January 16th.   Third was February 8th.  I quit pumping with the last one (so Liam got six exclusive weeks of breastmilk and two supplemented).   Two or three visits to a surgeon, my six week OB checkup visit, two breast ultrasounds for me.  Brian’s been to the doctor where he got an inhaler and antibiotics.   Josh got sick, got a z-pack.  Liam got sick, confirmed RSV.  Liam and I still cough, Brian and Josh seem/sound better.  I didn’t bother going to the doctor – we knew what it was, and it’s viral.
The front door was kicked in February 19th.   Had the front door replaced the next day (Saturday), had an alarm installed that Monday.  Sigh.

Liam started smiling between weeks six and seven.

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Christmas.

Posted on January 9, 2010 by Jen

It sucked.  Oh my god, did it suck.

Since my mom and dad were here and we had a week old baby, I figured that it would be in Brian’s best interests to spend the night at Kevin’s house the night before so that he could get up and have the tree and see that the cookies had been eaten, and all the other fun stuff that kids get to do on Christmas morning.   I was planning on trying to get up about seven (not that you really ever sleep with newborn babies around) and drive up to Plano and hang out at Kevin’s all day (so we could open presents and cook dinner [which is another fiasco in itself, but at least that one turned out okay]).   I told Kevin that as long as he made sure that he took pictures when Brian woke up that I was okay with this plan. We’d also discussed beforehand which presents were going to be ‘Santa presents’, since Kevin’s mom went completely goddamned fucking overboard buying him shit.  Literally I can’t describe to you the amount of crap that she sent.  There were probably forty presents under the tree for Brian from her.

Did I wake up at seven?  /cue hysterical laughter

We *finally* were up and had the three of us dressed about nine thirty or so.  Nobody had called, so I was assuming that the three adults that were present in the house had the sense to think “Hey, they have a new baby and get little to no sleep.  We’ll cut them some slack and let them get what sleep they can manage to get”.  We got Liam in the car and drove up there.

I walked in the door, and Brian is whizzing around the kitchen and hallway dressed in a white t-shirt and underwear on a scooter.  My brain goes ‘uhhhh’, and I look at Kevin.  “Where’d he get that?”  Kevin’s face sort of pales, and says that it was one of his presents.  My brain sort of blacks out here, I remember standing there staring at him while I processed the fact that Brian had opened every fucking one of his presents.  EVERY FUCKING ONE.  Kevin (rather feebly) says that I’d told him that as long as he took pictures that it was okay.  My brain starts screaming ‘WHAT THE FUCK COULD HE BE THINKING”, my mouth says ‘Yeah, of him waking up and finding his presents under the tree’.

I turned around and walked outside.  All I wanted to do was go home.  Brian (you know, MY son) is only going to be little once, and every year he gets a little more older and a little less innocent.   I’ve waited over two weeks to type this up because it bothers me so badly, and there’s absolutely nothing I can do about it.   You would figure that between having a baby the week before and having an almost five year old that this Christmas would have been one of the best of my life, right?

Yeah.  I (after walking outside, trying to fall on the frozen water across the driveway, punching the car, and making Josh totally mad – not only was he mad about the stolen Christmas, but he’s mad that I”m trying to hurt myself) started carrying the rest of the stuff in from the car.  Side note here:  I’d told Momma weeks ago that she was going to cook dinner at Kevin’s.  She’d said that she’d need to bring her own pots and pans but since Daddy has his oh-so-wonderful truck at least she’d have the room to do so.  They get here and she’s got no idea that she’s supposed to be doing anything besides making some pies.  We sat down two days before Christmas and figured out what foods that she and Daddy just had to have and divided up who was going to make what.  We got it done, I even did the turkey!  Anyways.

I (and Josh) got everything in the house and I walked into the room past the kitchen area.  This part is a little blank as well, I know my mom was there and I just sat down on the floor and kept crying.  I do remember asking Josh to hand me Liam, and him replying with “Why, so you can kick him around too” (since I’d just kicked half of the opened toys across the room).   I just sat there and held him and did my best to not completely lose it.  You know, I had just had a baby a week before, anyone want to take a guess as to the state of my hormones?  Good guess!

My mom said that she’d thought about calling us.  THOUGHT.  SHE”D THOUGHT.  My dad?  He’d THOUGHT about calling us.  Both of them decided not to, since Kevin had reassured them that he’d talked to me and I was fine with everything.  (Keep in mind now that Kevin had Brian up opening presents before my parents were even out of their room.)  Yeah.  They both accepted the fact that I’d be fine with completely and utterly missing my child’s Christmas morning.  MOTHERFUCKING MORONS.

My parents aren’t too stupid, generally.  That morning?  Yeah.  Stupid.  Beyond stupid.  Fucking incomprehensibly moronically brain dead.    I’m almost more pissed off with them about this entire fiasco than I am Kevin.  Kevin is generally clueless about everything and he genuinely thought that he understood what I wanted.  My parents?  They KNEW that things weren’t kosher yet didn’t manage to actually do anything about it.

*fucking strangles the world*

I’m not sure exactly how long it took me to calm down enough that I could function.  It was probably a good hour.  My dad didn’t say anything to me, he just left – apparently he has to go worship his Buddy Jesus wherever he goes and was upset that nobody wanted to go with him.   I thought it was poetic justice that he didn’t make it to his worship service because he left too late to get there and get a parking spot.  I eventually demanded everyone come into the room with the tree and we opened our meager pile of loot.  Well, meager for everyone but Kevin, who had a small mother lode from his mother.  He hasn’t grown up either, you know – even her dog gives out presents.    Second runner up was me, I opened all of Liam’s presents.

Once that was done, I spent the rest of the day cooking and boob pumping.  I think Brian had a great Christmas – what kid wouldn’t when you receive a goddamned toy store under a tree that has your name on everything.    It sucks so bad that I’m never going to be able to do for Liam what Brian has had.  It’s not fair, and I’m never going to be able to fix it.  I did say that every bit of that shit was going to stay at Kevin’s house – so now there’s enough toys for three kids decorating Kevin’s house.  I figure it’s fair, since he refuses to say anything to his mom about anything and lets her do whatever she pleases, that he can deal with the crap.  Brian has brought over here the toys he cares about – his new Nintendo DS with his Go Diego Go game, his Batman toys, a little fake dog that breathes, and a Hulk board game that Josh picked out for him.  Sadly funny that he got enough toys to fill two rooms and doesn’t care about them beyond opening them.  He does like that scooter an awful lot, but there’s no way in hell it’s coming over here.

I guess it’s also a good time to mention this:  Brian regularly has projects at school that incorporate his outside of school life.  Every time he’s asked to describe or draw his family, it’s always me, Josh, Brian, and Cooper.   It’s now me, Josh, Brian, Cooper, and Liam.  That’s it.  That’s his family.  He doesn’t even think about adding Kevin because Kevin’s not family, more of extended family like Grandma or Grandmommy.  If you ask him, he’ll tell you that he loves playing with Dad.  That’s it.

Of course, that doesn’t change the fact that I was cheated out of my child’s motherfucking Christmas, but you know.

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Welcome to the world, Liam.

Posted on December 28, 2009 by Jen

(Apologies for the long overdueness of this post.  I was holding out for pictures, which I’ll add or post in a new post eventually.)

As most everyone knows, I was supposed to be at the hospital at 5:30am on the 16th for a scheduled (repeat) c-section.   Tuesday night we sent Brian off with my mom and dad to Kevin’s house, and Josh and I decided that we wanted to go out and get something to eat.  Jason’s Deli was the only thing that remotely sounded good – and it worked out, since they apparently have a low sodium roast beef sandwich that was delicious.   We got home and I kept Josh up and awake forever.  I’m not good with deadlines and anticipation and patience and all that.  Finally went to bed about one am, maybe one thirty.  Something like that.

About two thirty I woke up feeling like I had to poop, which was weird because I usually do that at about the same time each day – which isn’t the middle of the night.  Whatever.  I got up out of bed and walked out to the living room to wait until the feeling either went away or got stronger (you know what I mean).  It was weird, it was all tight around my lower back and stretched around to the front.  I stood there a second (literally) staring at the monitor trying to decide if I wanted to waste any time dicking around on the computer and I felt a pop, followed by a decent gush of liquid going down my legs.  Just another reason why I’m thankful that we sleep naked.

“Josh!”  “What?!”  “My water just broke.”  “Are you fucking kidding me?”  ‘Nope.”

Priceless.

I figured out real quick that I wasn’t going to be able to move much, not only was I going to drip amniotic fluid all over the wood floor but it hurt to move.  WTF, shit isn’t supposed to hurt, that’s why I scheduled the c-section.  Josh started running around getting dressed and grabbing stuff – luckily, since we were supposed to be at the hospital three hours later, everything was packed aside from my toothbrush and stuff like that.  Could have been worse.  I called the doctor’s answering service and the doctor on call called me back.  She said to go ahead and head over to L&D, but she didn’t expect that we’d move the surgery up.  Go figure, right?

By the time we got there the contractions were about three to four minutes apart – and they hurt.  (Let me mention again how this wasn’t supposed to hurt, lol.)  We got upstairs and they got things moving along – my IV, Epidural, Catheter, etc.  The nurse asked if I had thought about a VBAC.  I laughed and said that it hurt.  I think she got the point, she didn’t mention it again.  Once they got the epidural going I was able to sit back and relax a little bit, which meant that I sort of dozed.  When I was admitted I was already dilated almost to a two which I find interesting since Brian was born after two days of yucky drugs resulted in dilation of five centimeters.   Once the epidural started taking effect the contractions tapered off, which meant that they were safe in waiting until my scheduled surgery time and the doctors didn’t have to show up early.  Sigh.

About seven forty they finally started getting things moving and wheeled me back to the OR.  I have no idea where Josh went, and the fact that he wasn’t there just made me even more nervous.   There was a woman behind my head who said that if I was really anxious that they could give me something for it which sounded great.  I did ask what it was (Phenergan) and since I knew what it was (it’s given for anti-nausea orally, although there are some other applications now that I googled it) thought it’d be fine.  I kid you not, between that point and the ten minutes later before Josh made it back was like I’d spent two nights drinking and was finally going to fall asleep.  I was completely useless.

I’ve got a few distinct memories of the actual surgery.  Josh held my hand the entire time (and tried three or four times to wake me up), and finally ended up holding my hand while his finger rested on top of the pulse oximeter that was on my index finger.  I remember the feeling that everyone was doing something and asking if they had already started – about the same time that they were opening the placenta.  I heard the baby cry and thought ‘That’s good”.  I’m not sure if I clearly remember seeing Josh crying or not, but I do remember him trying to ask/tell me that he was going to go with the baby.  Of course I’m cool with that, all I wanted to do was sleep!   They did hold the baby up real fast as well before they walked him to the nursery people on the side of the room.  All I remember was slightly cheesy baby that was crying.  (And in retrospect, I have no idea what his apgars were.  Damn.)

Josh and Liam went out of the room while I (obviously) stayed behind and hung out on the OR table.  I have no idea how long it took them to do anything, I closed my eyes and was happy as a sleeping clam.  Eventually they moved me back onto a stretcher and wheeled me to recovery.  Recovery, where I stayed for nine hours.  How may I count the ways.   It’s not my fault that (first) I seemed to have an abnormal amount of clots and (second) gushed blood for hours.  My theory is that because of my backward cervix the blood was pooling which meant that it was clotting while it was pooled and then gushed out when I changed position.  Regardless, they wouldn’t let me go until they had it all controlled to their satisfaction…. which meant that it took me SIX FREAKING HOURS to see my baby.  *screams*

After I’d asked and asked and asked, they finally brought Liam to me – after not only Josh had seen him, but my mom and dad had as well.  Life sure isn’t fair.  However, I did get the baby, and he was healthy.  It might not be fair, but life is good.  They eventually let us leave recovery, but they only let us get as far as a regular L&D room.  Seems as though you’ll get more attention in a L&D room than you would in a postpartum room.  We stayed there until the next morning, when we discovered that the clotting/gushing issue was resolved but that my platelets were low.  Damnit.  Platelets low meant that they didn’t feel comfortable removing my IV and my epidural.  I’m glad they didn’t feel comfortable, since neither did I.  They wanted to run another CBC 24 hours later before they’d touch either one.  They ran it at 4 am the next morning, and about eight or nine I sat down on the bed and the damned epidural shifted onto a nerve.  I freaked out, horribly.  I walked down to the nurses station crying my eyes out and blathering about not wanting to end up paralyzed.  I guess they felt sorry for me, because they called down to anesthesia and someone came up to remove the epidural.  (Today, twelve days later, my back is still twingy in certain positions.  Sigh.)

Liam hasn’t had any major problems at all.  He’s tongue tied (his frenulum is too long) so though I can get him to latch on my nipple he hasn’t tried to actually do anything with it.  I’ve been pumping, which while annoying and disheartening isn’t anything that I’m not already used to.  He had his circumcision done and it’s nice and healed up and looks great.  His cord stump fell off about seven hours ago – which was good, since it smelled like dead fish.  I’ve been calling him ceviche for two days.   (And, today is now BATH DAY.  YAY!)  I have no idea what his apgars were, but as soon as they had his head out of the incision in my belly he was screaming and squalling, so I’m assuming that his apgars were high.  His bilirubin never got high enough to worry about, his blood glucose was completely normal the seven or eight times it was checked (his heels were a mess), and his PKU was normal.  The only thing I’m concerned about is a spot on his head that’s round and upraised – the nurses in the hospital said it was fluid and normal and would go away on it’s own.  It’s still there, and it still feels like the tops of my feet did when swollen.  I’m going to mention it at his next doctor’s appointment in another week or so, but I bet since the doctor has seen him four or five times now, it’s nothing I should worry about.

Full stats:  December 16, 2009.  8lbs, 5oz, 18 1/2 inches long.  Five days after he was born he measured 19 3/4 inches at the doctor’s office – which means that I’m either lactating miracle gro, or they measured wrong at the hospital.  I’m voting for option two, since I said when I saw him that he was skinnier than Brian was at birth.

Best of all, not only is he completely healthy, he’s beautiful…. and he’s ours.

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Instead of editing the last post..

Posted on December 12, 2009 by Jen

I’ll just make a new one.  :|

First, those bibs that ‘were Josh’s from when he was little’?  They have tags on them, which have copyright dates:  Circa 2002.

Next, an ornament that I’ve had on my desk since last Christmas that Brian got from Josh’s mom in a present and didn’t make it into the rest of the Christmas stuff when it was packed away.  It’s a ‘Kid’s Fourth Christmas’ ornament from Hallmark, I thought it was cute, etc.  I get it out to hang on the tree last night (yes, we put up the tree) and there’s curling ribbon on the hook, like someone had already had it out and used it on a tree – the ribbon was all crinkled, etc.  The bubble plastic wrap that ALL Hallmark ornaments come in was gone, so I pulled it out and noticed the back of the ornament:  2001.
WHAT THE FUCK.

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Hibernation, almost complete.

Posted on December 10, 2009 by Jen

I’m letting my guilt push me into updating, since I haven’t done anything with this blog since the first of November.  I have a feeling that it’s far easier for me to deal with practicing patience if I keep my mouth shut and my head down and coast my way through it.  Well… I’m almost done.  Thirty eight weeks, one day.  We go in next Wednesday morning for my second c-section (we’ve got to be there at five freaking thirty in the morning), so hopefully by mid-morning Wednesday we should have another baby.

Another baby.  How crazy is that?  Part of me is excited, part of me is getting quite nervous.  Pretty normal, especially since this time around I know what I’m getting into, as opposed to having absolutely no real idea at all.  I mean, sure.  I’d watched Heather’s kids for years, I’d been there for a lot of stuff – but I don’t think you ever really know until you’re the one getting up every thirty minutes to feed a crying monster, change it, get it back to sleep, then pump out more milk for another round in thirty to forty minutes…. over, and over, and over.  You know, to the point that you wonder if it’s ever going to fucking end – which, luckily, seems to be about the same time that it seems to get a little easier.

Josh is taking five weeks off of work (the almost week we’ll be in the hospital plus four more at home).  I’m horribly, horribly excited about that.. I’m not sure what I’m happier about.  A new baby, or a month’s worth of Josh being around all the time.  Easy answer is ‘both’.   My parents will be here sometime Monday – they were going to be here Sunday, but Momma decided she has too much to do before they leave and my dad saved seventy bucks on his gambling hotel room by moving it from Saturday night to Sunday night.  [cue the laughter]  My answer was ‘Oh good, that’s seventy more dollars you can spend on me’.  Hooray!   They are staying at Kevin’s – I’m not sure how well my dad is going to be able to actually sleep there, which I’m sure will ultimately determine how long they end up staying.  Brian’s far more excited about them coming than he is a new baby.  I sort of figured that he’d ‘get’ more of the baby concept, but I guess I was wrong.  He’s really excited about being a big brother, but he has no real idea of the concept – which is yet another thing that I’m sure is completely normal.  I got my siblings earlier, to the point that I have a handful of memories that don’t include Alison – and part of those include my mother’s stomach.

Josh’s mom has been playing nice (yeah, like everyone didn’t see that coming).  She came over last night to ‘drop some stuff off’.  Gave me forty dollars for a thermometer, since Josh had mentioned that we’d not bought one we’d looked at (it’s the temporal one, that you stick on the forehead).  I still don’t know if I want it or if I just would rather buy a few digital ones that you can stick in their butt.  The way I still lose the damned thermometer, I have a feeling the second option is far smarter.  She brought over a bag with some stupid fake tattoos for Brian and a bag for each of us.  My bag had two bibs that were Josh’s in it – cool part is the rubbery teethy thing on the bottom of one of the corners (guess that isn’t just a recent invention) that’ll be great for next year, a baby’s first Christmas ornament that she’d handwritten the baby’s name on (which means that it looks…well.. I’m picky and I have a touch of OCD, so yeah), and a Christmas elf outfit.  Problem?  It’s size SIX MONTHS (and has written in sharpie marker on the plastic hanger $4) – for my baby who’s going to be NINE DAYS OLD on Christmas day.    (I know, all I do is bitch, bitch, bitch.  I have good reasons, though?)  I didn’t really pay attention to Josh’s bag, but since he left it piled on the floor beside his computer chair, I will now:   a green hat and socks in newborn size, some santa booties in size unknown, and a long sleeved onesie that says ‘who needs Santa… when I have Grandma’ in size… wait for it… SIX MONTHS.  UGH.

In other news, we have finally joined the rest of America and we have cable.  Finally.   It’s actually DirecTV so it’s satellite, but we get television shows in HD that look stunning.  (AND, we were able to watch Glee last night at it’s normally aired time with the rest of the world.  Success!)  Brian’s liking the television part, but he doesn’t get that shows have commercials and that he can’t just watch anything he wants anytime he wants.  I’m about to knock him upside the head, to the point that every time I hear “Mommy, can I watch some TV” becomes another mental note to not turn it on.  Food Network in HD…Grey’s most of the day on some obscure SOAP channel (not that I don’t own the first five seasons on DVD..)… Discovery Health…  *happydance*

Christmas present wise, I’m about done.   I can’t remember if Alison knows about this blog or not, so I’ll refrain from mentioning exactly what I got them (aside from mentioning that I’m not sure that they will both like said items, but I thought that the one for Justin was hilarious and that I hope she has any interest in the one for her).  I (and Josh and Kevin, Kevin went in halfsies with us) got my Momma and Daddy a $100 gift certificate to eat at the Melting Pot - there’s one in Atlanta if they don’t make it to the one here before they leave.   We’re going to my favorite pottery place after the baby’s born to make something kid themed for Josh’s mom (and will no doubt most likely leave with things for us and for my mom as well).  So far for Kevin I picked up a Chick-fil-a calendar (what do you get for the person that has everything and the money to buy whatever he wants?).  I wanted to do this gift certificate to this gourmet cheese shop that Josh found through this Groupon site he frequents, but he didn’t buy it on the day they offered it.  I’ll find something, hopefully.  Brian is getting some Batman figures, a Nintendo DS, and two games from Kevin, I picked up a motorized Batman car and an Incredible Hulk board game.  I figure that’s plenty of stuff for the child that has everything.  I was saving another seven Transformers from last Christmas for this year, but the little stink found them in my closet about a month ago.  He’ll never know the difference either way.   As far as Josh and I go, we’re not really planning on getting anything for each other – at least anything that we can wrap.  We’re having a (admittedly horribly expensive) baby, we got DirecTV, and we bought a Canon EOS Rebel T1i (so, yes Virginia, Mommy FINALLY has her DSLR.  <3).  I’d say that we’ve already insured that we’re going to have a good Christmas, lol.

So, Christmas is about taken care of.  My mom is basically in charge of Christmas dinner.  We’re doing Christmas at Kevin’s house – I still haven’t decided if I’m even going to shack up our tree or not.  I’m leaning towards probably, but since I can’t sit on the floor and get the ornaments out, I can’t get the tree out of the closet on the porch and I definitely can’t get the plastic storage bin out of the top of Brian’s closet…. my answer is a tentative ‘maybe’.   Brian said that he does want it, but he wants it in my bedroom (wtf?).  So, yeah.. maybe.  Sigh.

I’m antsy.

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Craps, it’s November.

Posted on November 1, 2009 by Jen

Which means that it’s NoBloPoMo time again. I might do it again this year. I’m awfully lazy, though. :[

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