Until then...wine.

I'm sitting here and sipping on a cold cup of coffee because I gave up on reheating it.

I feel like a bad mom.  I feel like a horrible, horrible person.
Yesterday was hard.  The day before was hard, too.  Baby was crying on and off ALL DAY.  The husband was out of town and the baby was screaming or just...fussy.  He needed to be held, constantly.  By 4 in the afternoon, yesterday, I felt tears welling up in my eyes.  By 6, I thought, well, he'll be getting tired soon.  By 7, I had cried while rocking him to sleep in the recliner and was hoping Ryan's plane could somehow speed fly the rest of the way to Houston...and possibly just let him parachute down over our house on the way.
I put the baby in his bed at 7:30pm. An hour earlier than his 'normal' bedtime. I was excited!  So much so that felt the urge to pirouette across the floor on my way to the kitchen to make myself a much needed sandwich.  When he woke up at 7:51, I felt angry.  ANGRY!  He's just a baby.  It's not his fault.  But I was so tired.

What kind of mother starts to hate having to hold her baby?  What kind of horrible person thinks to themselves, "If I hear that baby's voice again, I'm going to lose my mind."  Me!  That's who!   He wasn't screaming all day but I was completely worn out.  I can understand why there are ads out there that reminds people to not shake babies.  I mean, everyone knows that you can't shake babies!  Its dangerous and very stupid.  But I can understand parents being driven to the point where they do.  It's hard.
I've been a mom for all of 3 freakin' months, and I can tell you it's difficult.  No day is the same as the last.  And yes, its only been 3 months, and, yes, it will keep changing.  I know.  I don't need a, "Just you wait..." teaching.  (Which is pretty demeaning, by the way.) I'm aware there are more things coming.
 There is always some kind of challenge.
In a matter of 2 and half days, I'm not kidding, my son managed to sprout out of one size of his cloth diapers to where he cannot wear them anymore.  Which means I am at the mercy of our mail carrier to bring us more diapers and in the meantime washing the ones he DOES fit in several times a day.  Its always something!

I'll tell you what, though.  Last night, when my husband came home around 11pm, the baby had woken up several more times.  I was relieved he was home, though I'm sure it didn't show much.  I had, by this time, a half glass of wine next to me and an empty Ben & Jerry's container in the trash. When the baby's voice rang over the baby monitor AGAIN, Ryan took the reins. I was finally off-duty!  I watched on the monitor as he shushed him gently and picked him up.  All he wanted was a little comfort and to know someone was out there.  He fell right back to sleep as my husband rocked him, and then placed him back in his bed.  Its simple!  He just wanted a little physical contact and lovin'.  But I was over it.  He ended up waking again and my husband brought him out to rock him in the recliner.  The baby's eyes were wide-freakin'-open, too!  "GREEEAAAAT," I thought.  I sipped my wine.  There were tears mixed in it by now.  I got up off of the couch and he spotted me.  From his daddy's arms, I watched his eyes light up as he locked eyes with mine and he wiggled with glee and he smiled!  My heart just melted.  I fell back in love with the little monster I was secretly cursing just hours before.
Everyone tries to tell you what to expect as a parent, but I'm here to tell you that its different for everybody.  You aren't alone, most likely!  You can have all the information out in front of you, and, sure, you realize your baby is going through a "leap" or whatever, but it doesn't make it any less infuriating sometimes.  Its all a part of the challenge...and love.

This too shall pass...until then, I have wine and a loving husband to help us through.

Baby G's Birth Story

For some reason, I thought I would give birth a little earlier than expected.  By the time I was 39 weeks along, those thoughts diminished.  I was on maternity leave when I started to have contractions, consistently at 10 minutes apart for up to 4 hours at a time when they would stop for no reason, and for the next 2 and half weeks. My doctor discovered around this time that I had a little higher than usual fluid count that she was concerned and wanted to keep an eye on it, as well. Because of my fluid levels, my Dr said I needed to come in as soon as my water broke, if and when it did, so they could make sure everything was ok.  There are complications that can arise from the fluid and she just wanted to be on the safe side.   By the time I was 41 weeks, I had remained barely dilated, and Baby was not looking like they were going to make an appearance any time soon. At my appointment on that Tuesday, I was scheduled for an inducement for the following Monday. I was crushed and determined to have this baby on my own!  On Thursday, right before I hit 42 weeks, I was starting to have contractions...again.  I piddled around the house, I ran errands.  I was in the grocery store and I was having to stop what I was doing when one hit.  Before long they were close to 5 minutes apart.  Of course, I hit traffic on my way back home where they were really starting to get uncomfortable.  I was stuck at a traffic light 3 miles away from home, when I called my husband and said, "Ok.  I really would like it if you came home."  After weeks of thinking that my contractions were going to turn into the 'real deal' at anytime, he was understandably skeptical and asked me a bunch of questions about what was happening.  I interrupted him with, "WOULD YOU JUST COME HOME!"  And home he came.
We finally decided to try to go to sleep around 10:30 or so, so that if it were to keep going we would get some sleep.  I think I slept 45 minutes.  After a while, I would wake up with each contraction every few minutes....watching the time pass.  By 1 a.m. I could not stand it anymore.  I was exhausted but I just couldn't rest.  I woke my husband up and moved into the living room.  This is where the fun began.

I found that I was having back labor...a lot of it.  I did my pelvic rocks from class every freakin day, but NO!  Back labor.  I could handle it for the most part but I found I could hug my exercise ball and rock with my contractions to help the pain out.  Trying to relax and breathe while hugging a giant plastic ball means that you drool all down it, FYI.  No one tells you that.  It was only embarrassing the first few times.  Ryan was bringing me water, getting me food, and fighting sleep in between contractions.  Before long the sun was up and things just kept trolling along.
Around 1 pm, we were exhausted.  Contractions were 3 to 5 minutes apart.  They were staying at around 3, but every once in a while would be at 5.  Bath after bath, and lap after lap around our street, I was starting to wonder what the deal was.  Around 2, Ryan and I laid down on the couch.  He was helping me go through contractions and in between I was letting my eyes close-if even for a minute.  I dosed off and I was so tired that I had already started to dream...sort of.  Suddenly I sat up-the fastest I'd sat up since being about 20 weeks pregnant I think-and I thought I had peed suddenly.  I heard that's pretty much what water breaking feels like so I got up.  The joys of Motherhood! (This may get to be TMI but ...oh well) When I went to the bathroom there was only a small about of fluid on my underwear, which was confusing.  I walked around for a minute and nothing really happened.  No more fluid and nothing really changed with my contractions.  Finally, we decided we should probably go get checked out just in case.

So, by this point, we're looking at, what, 16 hours or so?  Nice.  Anyways, we get checked in to the hospital and they bring us through the ER to some kind of 'back entrance' up into Labor and Delivery.  The nurse we had  was so nice.  She was gentle and patient and she had a great sense of humor.  We were put in the very room we toured in just a few weeks before.  We went over our birth plan which they already had in our paperwork-our doctor is awesome-and everything was fine. Everyone was really excited to have a surprise baby once we told them we didn't know the gender! So, the on-call doctor came in.  I knew that my doctor was out of town but I knew who was on call from the office and the name of person who was supposed to deliver Baby G. He checked me and it turned out that I was 3 cm dilated and partially effaced.  Which to me meant I had been 3 cm dilated for a week and why the heck have I been in labor for this long if I'm not freakin dilating?!  It was frustrating.  He said that he wasn't going to admit me yet but he wanted to have us there for about an hour just to see how I was progressing.  An hour and a half later, a tiny bit more effaced...still at 3.  He decides to let us stay a while longer-looking back I'm wondering if he had an idea of what was coming cuz I'm not sure why he let us stay without being admitted-just to see if I progress any more. Also, the nurse started to notice I was running a fever. Another hour or two and nothing.

Some time in the middle of this, there was a shift change and we got another nurse.  This one was...odd.  She was nice but she had no sense of humor and I just didn't feel like she was on my side.  Not really anyway.
While he's checking me he asked, "Did you say your water broke? Or you don't know?"  We reminded him that we weren't sure and he said it appeared that my bag of water was still intact but he's noticing a lot of fluid when he checks me.  He tries to run a test to see whether I have amniotic fluid present but it is inconclusive because there's too much blood all up in there.  Around this time they say my fever is getting higher.  They keep an eye on things for a little while longer when the doctor finally says that he's worried I have ruptured and its making my fever get high.  He also suspects that my fluid levels mixed with the rupture and ..something else, I forgot, is causing my contractions to be unproductive.   He said that if my fever got to a certain point, he would have to do a C-Section.  "I want to be as close to your plan as possible, but if it gets much higher your options will be taken away and I don't want you to have a c-section."  He wants to admit us but wants to break my water and start Pitocen to get labor consistently going. He gives us time to think it over.  Ryan and I are freaking out!  What's going on?  This isn't supposed to happen.  This isn't what we wanted! I am in tears.  Ryan's in tears.  He asked the nurse to take my temperature again and it was already higher.  "What do we do, Ryan?  I don't know what to do," I said.  "Let's just have a healthy baby, ok," he said.  The doctor came back in after a while.  Ryan spoke to him the most since, y'know, LABOR had me busy.  He told the doctor that we wanted the minimal amount of Pitocen.  That we didn't want to use but the smallest possible amount and that that's what our doctor was going to do at our induction anyway.

At this point, we're looking at, I think 22 hours of this.  I felt like I was going to be pregnant forever and I was just...exhausted.  I wasn't handling my contractions as well anymore, either.  My birth isn't going how I imagined it, I'm tired, and I don't want to be pregnant anymore.  Ryan had been a life saver in the hospital by pushing on my back off-setting the back labor pains.  Even though we had the system down pretty well for my contractions I was really worn down.
The doctor was going over the 'new plan' and he mentioned that if I did decide I wanted pain meds or something, to just let them know.  I said, "Well, if we have to start Pit I'm really worried I'm not going to handle it."  He asked about the epidural.  I said that I didn't think it would work, but its like this other person popped out and was all, like, TRY IT!
As soon as we agreed to the new plan, I felt ok about it.  But as soon as I agreed to the epidural it was as though everyone was in stand by and pouncing.  I was strapped to the bed with so many monitors and cords.  They had to fit me with an IV for the Pitocen, and since I was getting the epidural too they had to monitor the baby the whole time now.  I said, "How the heck am I supposed to pee?"  "Oh, I have to put a catheter in."  I cried. I felt like I made a mistake.  I looked at my husband hoping he would talk me out of something but everything was going so fast.  They tried the epidural and it didn't work.  They tried again...it didn't work.  Fine.  What a waste of effort.  Oh, but she still says I have to have the catheter.  Great!  She did that think with no pain meds.  It was awful.  I hated her a little.   The doctor came in to break my water.  Everything was the same.  Still had a fever, though it hadn't jumped up considerably.  I think Ryan said that the doctor made a comment about blood in it.  There was a lot of fluid!
She later came in with a new drug.  She said it would help with pain since my epidural didn't work.  I wasn't really paying attention.  I was absolutely defeated at this point.  I said, "Sure. Fine."  She put it in my IV and I started to feel like I was floating on the freakin ceiling.  I hated it!  Mistake number two!  I couldn't pay attention.  I felt so confused and high.  The humorless nurse came back in to check on me. "Can you still feel your contractions?"  "Yes. But I care less."
Its true what they say about the effects of anxiety and stress on your labor.  I felt like my contractions were slowly getting farther apart, or at least more random.  After a while, I seriously had no concept of time but I can piece it together through what Ryan told me and by process of elimination.
25 long hours of labor.  They finally brought the Pitocen in. (There's something I never thought I'd say!)  Whatever that drug was had worn off. Ryan had succumbed to the sofa and was mostly unconscious. She started the drip and the doctor came to see how things were going.  I barely remember him coming in because I didn't talk to him.  I just wanted to be left alone.  I knew Pitocen was strong.  There was a little bit of a build up but not much.  It felt like a jackhammer beating the contractions out of me.  There was a point where I remember yelling for Ryan and the poor guy was so tired that he just waved his hand towards me and said, "Oh, you're fine-you can do it."  He was asleep and has no recollection.

An alarm started to go off on my IV thingy, I think.  Ryan was on the intercom with the nurse (fully conscious) when everything in my body shifted.  That's literally all I can say about it.  There was a force that I had never felt before and it had taken over.  I was screaming-not the in the sense where the pretty girl screams at the camera in a scary movie but guttural screaming.  I was pushing with each holler.  The nurse came in to look at the IV, saw me and everything changed.  She told me to turn over on my back so she could check me. "No, I'm not moving."  "You need to move over onto your back, ok?  I can't check you..."  "YOU don't understand!  I'm not moving!"  So, she checked me how I was.  According to Ryan, she checked me and then dashed out of the room.  Nurses where moving all over the place and telling me not to push.  RIGHT!  No, someone is going to catch this baby!  I didn't know who but I knew they weren't going to just let me drop it there.  Ryan found a spot by my head.  I looked at him one time.  He was staring at the chaos with big eyes and stroking my hair.  The doctor came in and checked.  The lady that was supposed to be on duty couldn't make it, so he was going to deliver Baby G.  It was go time.  I was still in the same position and the nurse said something to the doctor about trying to get me to move earlier and my refusing.  "No, we talked about this earlier.  She can deliver in whatever position," he said. About halfway through, it felt like Ryan was boring a hole into the back of my skull with his finger.  He kept saying, "You're doing great.  I love you, " over and over.  I yelled at him to quit rubbing my head like that!

I pushed for 10 minutes.  3:38 am- Out came Baby G!  I didn't get to look at the baby much, they placed the baby on my belly and a grabbed for it.  Finally!  I was so...relieved.  Part of me still couldn't believe it was all happening.  Not just that I wasn't pregnant anymore but that everything was changed.  That I was finally, really somebody's mommy.
A full two minutes passed before one of the other nurses asked, "Wait, was it a boy or a girl?!"  They finally turned the baby over. "It's a boy," the doctor said!  I wasn't disappointed or excited.  I was just so happy to have a baby that was finally visible!  He pooped all over me about that time.  I was happy.  Ryan cut the cord and we celebrated in utter silence that everyone was healthy and the whole thing was finally over.

Approximately 26 hours of labor.  Worth it.

Four Reasons Why We're "Team Green"

I have, for the last 7 months and a quarter, been met with a wide variety of reactions when I say that we aren’t finding out the gender of our child.  (Until it gets here, of course)  There hasn’t been one particular group that reacts a certain way or the other, it’s just been…odd.  My husband has been on board from the beginning.  So has my mom…or so I thought.  I asked my mother a day or so after we told them we were pregnant if she minded if we didn’t find out the gender and she reacted, whole-heartedly, with positivity and said that they’ve been waiting so long for this to happen that it didn’t matter.  By the way, she has been telling everyone that they didn’t think that this was going to happen for them cuz they’ve been waiting.  I mean everyone!  You would think that Ryan and I had been married for 10 years already.  We just celebrated our one year anniversary!  Anyways, now she thinks that we are lying about knowing the gender and she keeps having these moments where she thinks she ‘catches’ us.  I don’t know.  

The point is that I knew that not everyone would get it but I didn’t know there would be such boisterous responses either way.  It’s a weird thing to learn that the genitalia of your baby matters so much to so many people, most of which probably won’t even know the baby when they aren’t inside my body.  Therefore, I decided to write down why we don’t want to know Baby G’s gender.   These may be why other people choose this as well, or not, I don’t know.  These are just things that I think are important and don’t necessarily reflect what other people feel.  I don’t mind if other people find out the sex and I’m sure not judging them for it.  I personally think some of this list sounds dramatic but it’s how I feel about it. Without further ado, here are 4 reasons why I don’t want to know what my baby’s nether regions look like.

4) Gender Specific Colors.   I hate pink.  I think I’ve always hated it and the fact that when I was young I picked my leg cast to be hot pink was one of the weirdest decisions I’ve ever made in my whole life.  I didn’t want to find out it was a girl and automatically get hammered with pink.  Furthermore, why are colors ‘gender specific’ in the first place?  It’s ridiculous!  They are freakin’ colors, people.  I picked up an infant beanie in a store the other day and the lady said, “Oh, you’re having a boy?!”  I said, “No, I just like the color.”  There was once a time when pink and blue were not only meant for one gender or the other.  They are only colors. 
I just didn’t want to have a bunch of blue or a bunch of pink littering the entirety of the kid’s wardrobe and nursery.  At least, not right of the bat. 

3) Personal Entertainment.  Some of the reactions we get sure may be awkward but they are definitely fun to watch.  People’s mouths drop open.  People have patted my tummy and spoken to me like I should be up for an award or something.  People have questioned us on all of our life decisions.  I have had people ask, “OMG, how can you stand it?!!” Its crazy!  And it’s a little funny.  My mother-in-law, for the longest time, kept asking, “So you’re not finding out whether it’s a boy or girl?”  Sometimes she would ask a few times in one visit.  When we would say, No, she would say, each time, “Well, as long as it’s healthy.”  She would press her hands out and say it each time.  I finally told my husband that I thought she was mostly telling herself that-like an affirmation or something.  Its fun getting people to tell you their guesses!  It makes it exciting for everyone.  You get crazy advice, sometimes, about what the gender has to be because of this or that, and its all great fun.  I have had people tell me it’s a boy because of how I carry, and also, because of how I’m carrying, it has to be a girl. 
Everyone eagerly awaits!  They’re excited to see who is betting right, and we are excited to get a baby!

2)  Babies Are People, Too.   (I wasn’t sure how to title this one.) One of my issues is that even infant clothes toys tend to be so gender specific.  Even in clothes, if you go to a boy’s clothes section, everything is dinosaurs, cars, and some sports themes in blue, green, or black.  If you go into a girl’s clothes section everything is cupcakes, and princesses drowning in pink.  Boys are expected to play with particular toys, even in an infant stage, and girls, as well.  Do babies play with those toys with their genitalia?  No?  Then it can be played with by whomever.  Yes, girls tend to play differently than most boys do and have different interests most of the time, but why are we pushing only certain interests on our kids just because of they are boys or girls?  I feel as though, by only getting “Girl Things” or “Boy Things” for my kids I’m telling them they can only interested in certain things and only be certain things when they grow up.  Girls don’t have to be princesses and have to get toy kitchens.  Boys don’t have to be sports stars and only play with super heroes.  I want them to figure out who they are on their own. 
Yes, they are only babies, but babies grow up to be grown-ups!  I don’t want to set them up to think that they are limited by their gender. 

1) The Simple Surprise.  There are really so few surprises in life these days.  We can find out so much so easily from social media, to google, to modern sciences.  We rush around to get to place to place.  We can get food brought to us at the touch of a button.  We just thought, “Hey, let’s slow things down and wait to find out what kind of gift we have.”  We would much rather tell everyone “It’s a boy” or “It’s a girl” or “Meet so-and-so” than just say, “Here they are.”  We want the surprise at the end of tunnel.  Labor is hard work and since we are also doing a natural birth, we will both be working hard to get to the end. 
We can’t wait until the last push and we can see who we have!  That kind of surprise just can’t be duplicated.

2nd Trimester: What No One Tells You

My husband and I took a Babymoon trip to Tennessee a few weeks ago.  We wanted to take the opportunity to celebrate our 1st Wedding Anniversary and spend some quality time together before Baby G arrives.  So at 4 1/2 months pregnant, on a road trip we went.

It really wasn't so bad to be in the car for so long.  Ironically, we had to stop more so my husband could pee and not myself.  I had never paid attention to how much my husband is constantly eating and drinking something in the car, before.  Hmm..Anyways, we had a lot of fun.  We annoyed each other with music on the road, and complained about 18-wheelers.  We ate dinner in Memphis and saw Beale Street full of life.  We strolled in Nashville and watched the sunset over downtown.  We got to Gatlinburg a lot later than we thought and narrowly survived the winding roads to our mountain cabin.  It was great!

I started to notice after day three of our vacation that I was no longer able to bend straight forward in the car.  I didn't think I was much bigger but it was these subtle differences that had me beginning to question how much I really was growing.  It didn't feel like much of a difference until people on the street started asking when I was due and then guessing the gender of a baby that would likely never know.  It was as though overnight, or nights, an extra throw pillow grew under my shirts!
I'm writing about this because all I've ever heard about Trimester number 2 is that it's usually a breeze.  They aren't wrong.  You're not quite as tired anymore, or an least I haven't been, but you're energy does wear down at an incredible level if you hike up a mountain at 6,644'.  You don't get sick quite as easily during the day, but I have been fortunate enough to not have morning sickness very badly.  I just really didn't have anything to go off of, though, besides "its a breeze."

Well, let me tell you, it is.  It is a breeze.
Here's a little story for an example, ok?

Here we are on a romantic vacation together.  We are surrounded by beautiful views of the Great Smoky Mountains and looking around downtown Gatlinburg.  We decided to visit a museum in downtown, which was perfect because it was raining and I was tired of being rained on.  It was a museum of a car collection of celebrity vehicles and cars from tv shows and movies.  A little 'touristy' but, hey we are in a tourist town.  There's two levels of vehicles, its pretty cool!  We get upstairs and I see James Dean's cursed car, get excited and ask Ryan to take a picture of me with it.  He takes a photo and walks on.  We were sort of being followed another couple that started walking through the museum at the same time. They were a younger couple, very attractive. They couldn't have been together very long-who knows. Ryan was looking at the car used as Bumblebee.  It was only a short walk away.  The young couple was in front of me and I walked behind them to stand next to my wonderful husband.  I stood there for a second with my loving husband as he looked at the car, when out of nowhere a brash, reverberating noise startled the two of us.  "My God!  Was that YOU," my loud husband shouted.  I looked around to find the younger couple scurrying away from us and hurrying on with the museum.  I had farted so loud, everyone in the vicinity could clearly hear it.  I just ...came out!  I looked down at my belly and said, "BAD BABY!" 

Here's the deal, you will experience gas that you cannot control in your 2nd Trimester...apparently.  I fart so much now, its ridiculous.  I burp after drinking water.  You will also start to have to pee a little more often than you're used to but nothing too crazy.  Just the other day, there was so much grunting and farting in our living room that my husband resigned himself to saying that it doesn't bother him anymore and that he now has a pretty good idea of what it would be like to be married to a dude. 

This is the ugly truth that no one tells you about your 2nd Trimester and I thought you should know.
Its hilarious if you have a partner like mine, but it can be startling at first.
The more you know...

Pregnancy Insanity.

I really wish people would talk about this stuff more.  If I had seen something like this written before I was pregnant or even a few weeks ago, maybe, just maybe, things would be a little different.

Being someone that has struggled with anxiety and depression since probably my pre-teen years, with very little support or understanding of it until more recently, I have experienced a huge struggle during the first few months of pregnancy.  Even without the previous problems I have had, I think this would still be a tremendous struggle for me, now.  I have been so excited about this baby and I am so excited to be blessed to be pregnant.  I have wanted this so much for a very long time.  Everything has gone just fine so far.  I'm now in my 2nd trimester but for the first, I don't know, 15 weeks of pregnancy I have been on a tremendous roller coaster ride.

For my first OB appointment, I was almost sick in the car.  I was terrified that we would get there and have an empty sonogram.  I was sick at the thought of finding something wrong.  I was anxious that I had eaten something or done something to this baby and had screwed everything up.  Everything was fine.  We had a little flashing jellybean on the ultrasound and we were so excited.  I asked how big the baby was and asked if it was about the size of an olive.  She said, Yeah, it was about that size.  She pointed to the screen and said, "Look! There's your olive!"  I was so proud of my little olive baby!  I kept the ultrasound photos in my purse and was showing it off to everyone.

Baby G at 9weeks.

In a matter of a week or so I was already back to square one, though.  I couldn't get to sleep one night because I was seriously thinking about how I killed the baby through eating too many shrimp or because I accidentally ate the wrong cheese.  As ridiculous and stupid as this sounds, that is legitimately how I felt.  I was forcing back tears while my husband slept peacefully next to me.  I had nightmares of people killing me or killing someone close to me which always put me on edge for the next day making my anxiety worse. If I cramped even a little bit, I was going to the bathroom expecting my period to have started.  If I lifted something really heavy the next day I was worried I did something to the baby.  "Oh my God, I painted the set at the theatre and now I'm going to kill the baby cuz of the fumes."  I was wearing myself out worrying ...constantly. It never stopped.
By our second appointment, I gripped the door handle to the car and turned several times to tell Ryan to pull over but didn't.  I felt uncontrollably nervous.  We waited for what felt like hours in the waiting room when they called us back.  We were supposed to hear the heartbeat for the first time, and the dr came in with the doppler.  It took her a full minute (the longest 60 seconds of our lives) to find our olive's heartbeat.  I didn't feel like telling my dr about how I felt.  I didn't even want to talk to my husband about it.  I heard that little thumping coming from my tummy and felt at peace.  I felt like I could breathe and I prayed, I really prayed for that feeling to last.
I was only just beginning to get the Bump. Sure it was mostly very attractive bloating, but a bump I could notice. I had people if they knew I was pregnant, say they were surprised I was so small at that stage or surprised that I hadn't felt movement yet.  Like, too surprised.  These people weren't trying to freak me out but they planted little seeds in my mind.  "Well, of course your smaller you screwed something up."  "You can't feel them move because you miscarried."  These are serious things that were going through my mind.  I finally couldn't stand it anymore.  I was becoming more and more moody trying to hide my anxiety about things. (as if pregnancy hormones don't make you moody enough) I had been home alone a lot, as well, during this. So I had been alone with these thoughts.  I finally broke down to my husband.  I couldn't breathe.  I couldn't make sense of the things I started to say because they all started to come out at once to him.  He had no idea!  Poor guy.  I was hyperventilating and angry at him for leaving town again while I felt this way and he had no idea.  I prayed that God would calm me down to find peace.  To find happiness in my pregnancy instead of stress.  I started to feel better but I still had those little voices throwing little fears at me.
We had our 4 month appointment and, since I had started to finally unload my feelings, I felt comfortable unloading a little bit of what I was worried about to my dr.  She was supportive.  She smiled at me while I talked about my ridiculous worries and fears.  She finally said, "Don't worry about it.  Don't worry about everyone else-quite listening to them.  You listen to me and I say you're fine."  She got the doppler out and immediately found the little bitty heartbeat and I felt like crying.  It was so much louder and easier to hear.  She smiled, "See?  You're baby is fine."   She told me and showed me what the little kicks would feel like and that it was ok that I hadn't felt them yet, and took her time to talk to us.  I finally felt ok.  I finally felt like we were all a team and everything was going to be fine.  I finally felt like I was enjoying being pregnant.

The thing is, I have talked to a few people about this and I have discovered that this is normal.  Unfortunately normal.  Motherhood is a lot of responsibility and a whole lot of pressure.  It doesn't get any easier when they are in the world, either, but for some people its hard to get through the pressure of having that baby depend on your very body.  I found this verse more recently in Philippians that spoke to me very differently than it has before.
"Do not be anxious in anything but in everything, by prayer and request, and with thanksgiving give your requests to God. And the peace of God, which exceeds understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds."
This time when reading it, it felt as though God was saying, "For goodness sake, talk to people! Tell people and unburden yourself.  I can give you peace but you have to tell people about this stuff!"  After I talked to people and my dr and my husband (I guess he's people too) I felt lighter.
A few weeks later we saw our olive baby wasn't much of an olive anymore but was much bigger and much more active.  We watched baby G bounce around on a monitor and suck their thumb.  There was finally no anxiety before I went in the appointment.  I just felt...excitement!

Baby G at 18weeks

My thought is, if you find yourself experiencing this, don't beat yourself up.  Try not to hold it in.  You are definitely not alone in this and...you are not CRAZY!  You are having the first impressions of motherhood and its overwhelming and scary and that's o.k.  You are awesome and special and going to be just fine.  And even if something happens, even if you find yourself in the worst place, it isn't your fault.  There are tons of things that can happen but that doesn't mean that they will happen.  Talk to your dr if you feel anxious, too.  If they don't want to talk to you about this stuff, FIND ANOTHER DR.  Seriously.  Talk to your family, your friends, have conversations with God.  You're all on the same team.
I hope this helps.

The Day Our Lives Changed.

A couple of weeks after I was laid off from work, I was really tired of feeling like a blob of gross.  Crampy and grouchy and lazy, I kept telling Ryan and I wished I would just start my period already.  I was expecting to start it any minute after being probably two weeks late...probably.  Finally, on June 9th, I decided I should take a pregnancy test to rule it out. My dr said since I was on birth control, to not freak out if everything takes 6 months or longer; That there was a chance it could happen sooner but highly unlikely. I was pretty used to taking 'pee on a stick' tests by this point.  I was having so much trouble figuring out when I was ovulating so I was taking weeks of ovulation tests, which I have since deemed the most ridiculous and confusing devices ever.

I sat down to take the test.  I opened the test out of its childproof packaging that I ended having to get freaking scissors to get open.  Then, I remembered, "Oh crap.  The exterminator is coming this morning.  I'm not going to have a pee stick sitting out on my counter when he gets here!" So, I picked everything up and waited for later.  At 10:30 a.m., about five seconds after the bug guy left, I sat down again.  I took the test, set it on the counter and then went in the living room.  I started working on something-I don't remember what-when I finally remembered, "OH YEAH, I need to check that thing."  (It has been a while) I walked into the bathroom and saw two pink lines.  Wait, what?!  I picked it up and squinted.  My hand started shaking.  I had to sit down on the floor so I didn't fall over.  I remember thinking, "Is this real life?" and "Today is when everything changed."  As dramatic as that sounds, that is literally what I remember thinking.  After a few minutes, I decided to take a picture of the test so I would remember the day.  My hand was shaking so much, I ended up taking about 40.

I had decided months before, because I'm insane of course, how I would tell Ryan if we were to get pregnant.  I was going to order pizza and have "We're pregnant!" written in the lid of the box.  It was pretty simple.  So I waited until the afternoon to call Ryan and tell him that I needed him to be home at 5pm so I could have dinner with him before I had to be at auditions that evening.  He said fine.  At 2pm, I decided to take another test because, y'know what I could have been dreaming.  I took another test, TIMED it this time so I wouldn't forget about it, and waited for the result.  It was a different test, so this time it was a big "YES" with a plus sign on it.  I said, "OK."  I pre-ordered the pizza and decided I would write the message in the box myself because I don't trust people, apparently.  I scheduled it for 4:45 so I would have time to write it before Ryan came home.  He's never actually home on time, either, so I figured that since I asked him to be home at 5, he would more than likely be home at 5:20 or 5:30.

I was prepared but still freaking out.  I was nervous.  I was still spinning from what was happening.  I saved the last test and put it on the counter in the bathroom, so I kept going back and checking to make sure I read it correctly.  4:30 pm arrives.  I am pacing the floors of our 800 s/f apartment. I see a Papa Johns' truck come up the road and fly past my house at 4:40 p.m.  I was livid.  I ran out the front door!  I don't know if I was trying to run after the truck or what my intentions were but I was like, "Does he not understand what is happening here?!!"  I stood by the window waiting for the inconsiderate ass to show up with my freaking important pizza when I see a shadow with a backpack go to the front door.  I fling the door open as Ryan arrives with, "You're here?!? What the hell?!"  His eyes bulged out of his head with a meek, "yes?"  The one time he arrives early home.  The one time!  I pull him in the house and say, "Well, fine, hold on," as I shut the door on him leaving him puzzled on the front step.  I ran through the house making sure my laptop was shut (I had a bunch of pregnancy website things on the screen) and rechecking the pee stick in the bathroom.  I ran back the front door when Ryan said with a smirk on his face, "Are you hiding someone in there?"  I pulled him in the house and said shouted, "DON'T GO DOWN THE HALLWAY!" I went back outside and searched, like a frightened deer, for the stupid pizza guy.  Nothing.  It was 5pm.  Defeated, I walked back into the house.  Ryan was starting to walk down the hallway.  "STOP! Don't...aauuugghh!"  Ryan froze and then put his backpack down in the living room.  I bolted down (all 6 feet of our hallway) to the bathroom and hid the test behind my back.  I tapped him on the shoulder and said I had to show him something.  I said ok and I showed him the positive test.  His reaction?  "Um...Is this an ovulation test or a pregnancy test?"

None of our really important moments together have gone perfectly or at least very well.  Down to the very first time we met!  This was no exception.  It turned out that Papa Johns never received our order so we reordered and went to pick it up.  I ate and left for my audition.  I don't remember much from my audition except that I was so wired from the afternoon I had a lot of trouble reading the already difficult to read dialogue.  I came home in time to witness the news finally sink in for Ryan.  We were experiencing the same feelings: more excited than we had ever been and more terrified than we had ever, ever been.

So here we sit, getting things ready for baby G.  Sometimes it still kinda feels like a dream.

Unfriending the Unfriendly

Here is the problem and the joy of social media.  With just a few scrolls, you are able to see what everyone is doing and what everyone is about by what they choose to put out there.  You can get all the wonderful and tragic updates of their lives and you get to see what their belief systems are made up of all by a few clicks of their mouses. 

I understand what a lot of my friends are like on Facebook.  Given that some of them are actually friends with my parents, I don't expect to agree with what some of them have to say and I'm prepared for that.  Here's the thing, though: I probably get offended by what some of what's on my news feed everyday a little bit.  Whether its by inaccurate info being mindlessly shared through memes or angry articles shared as fact that are actually very, very false.  I get offended at people voicing their opinions sometimes.  That's my right.  However, it is purely my choice as to whether or not I respond and, if I do decide to respond, how I go about doing it.  By posting something I feel strongly about and someone comments contrastingly to my opinion, that is their right.  See, that's part of the circle.  You risk someone disagreeing with you when you post your opinion on the internet.  You risk that when you speak it as well.  Granted that an exception from this are the people that take something out of a post that is completely unrelated and irrationally lash out-that's a completely separate issue.

I'm growing a little tired of seeing people posting on social media about how social media sucks.  People are mad because people are mad at them.  People want to quit all of social media because of things that people post.  I can admire people getting off of Facebook and disconnecting, I can totally get into that, but once you state that you're quitting cuz people suck that just sounds...silly.  People do suck.  This is not new information.  The same goes for posting things about how surprised you might be that people are against what you say and how your are going to start deleting people or people should just delete them.  It just sounds juvenile.  Are you really surprised?  This is part of the risk you take by posting anything on the internet.  Let's take responsibility for our actions, all of us.

If I am going to unfriend, or block someone, you usually won't get an announcement from me.  I will just do it.  Here's what will get you to that point:  repeatedly posting false or misinformed articles/information, and posting any kind of hateful language/name calling.
We all absolutely have the right to our own opinions and the right to post what we please.  Just because we aren't on the same page politically does not mean that I don't like you or can't be friends with you.   If we were all the same then life would be completely boring, yes?
Can we not take a step back and calm down about stupid Facebook?  Its not the end of the world.  Frankly, I'm sure if I did threaten to unfriend people I'm sure most of them wouldn't care.

If you post a comment on a news article, don't get offended if someone disagrees with you.  Try not to take the bait and get involved in an argument.  You're not going to change each other's opinion anyways, so there is really no point.
If you want to post your opinion on a social media outlet, which you hold a right to, try not to act offended or surprised when people react negatively.  On the reverse, if someone posts their opinion and you do not entirely agree then you do not have respond.  If you do, react respectfully. How would you want to be spoken to?
If you see a meme, article about some hot button topic, or picture that is being spread virally, use snopes.com or Google to check its legitimacy.  Its so simple.  By clicking share too fast, you can spread the fire of misinformation and ignite more negativity.

You don't have to quit social media or quit your friends to be at peace, but be more responsible about it.  Let's not loose our heads, people!