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!

The Newest Adventure.

The newest little adventure we have set out on is rescuing a litter of 1.5 week old kittens.

Yep.  Its pretty much as crazy as it sounds.

One Friday we discovered they had fallen down a wall and were in there for over a day when we tore the wall apart, got them out and gave them to their mommy.  She happily scampered to her babies and my boss got them a box to live in out in the shop yard.  Early Monday morning I could hear kittens in my office walls...again.  We walked upstairs and there lay two kittens, screaming, dirty, and covered in insulation.  We found the third one later that morning when we discovered it had fallen down the wall unlike the other two.  Another one was found in the bottom of the wall the next morning.  Mommy cat was never seen.  We waited all day for her to come check for her kittens but no one saw her.  I went and got kitten formula so I could at least try to keep their strength up.  When we took them out of the wall, only one had their eyes just starting to open.  By the next day all of their eyes were open.

Then the fun started.  I brought home all the screaming, hungry kittens and Lefty was thoroughly annoyed by the situation.  He didn't even want to be in the house the first couple of days!  The kittens hated the bottle and it was a struggle to get them to eat.

We got up in the night to fight to feed them.  Screaming.  Pooping.  Clawing.  All wonderful to experience in the wee hours of the morning.

After the second full day, they were starting to take to the bottle a little bit.  All but one.  She was the loudest but was slowly becoming the weakest.  She passed away that afternoon.  Ryan solemnly buried her in our yard under an oak tree.

By Thurs/Friday we had somewhat of a routine down.  We had a heating pad on a timer so it wouldn't  automatically turn off every two hours.  They were taking the bottle pretty good.  We could tell they each had their own personalities.  The only girl left we affectionately began call Little Bit.  (We had to keep track of them somehow!)  She was the quietest of all of them and very laid back.  She was becoming Ryan and my-self's favorite of the bunch.  Two boys were left, also, one we didn't call anything and the other we called Bubba, Baby Boy, or "Holy Crap Stop Eating So Fast."

Saturday morning, after all of the chaos of the week we had caved to exhaustion and I suddenly woke up from what felt like a coma.  "Ryan!  Its nearly 10am!  We have to get up NOW!"  I ran into the living putting on a t-shirt to feed them.  I went to the fridge to get formula ready and then went back to see the kittens.  One laid there still, dead in his sleep.  Little bit was barely breathing.  I couldn't stand it.  We were working so hard and I felt like it was my fault!  I ran, rather panicked and angry into our bedroom with Little Bit in tow.  "Ryan!  GET UP NOW!"

We buried the boy next to his sister.  Baby Boy was doing fine-hungry as usual.  Little Bit, it appeared, was going to pass any moment.  I held her tiny, weak body in my hands and wrapped a towel around her to stay warm.  I called the vet and they said there just wasn't anything they could do but we could try some Pedialyte from now on to see if that might help.  I held her for over 5 hours.  I sobbed and prayed over that kitten.  You might think that's ridiculous but I was very serious. Every 30 minutes or so I was trying to feed her.  I waited to see if she would ever stop breathing.  By that evening, she had started to purr again.  She wanted to take the bottle but wasn't eating much.  She was doing better....she stayed that way all Sunday.  She was severely dehydrated but she was drinking tiny amounts of the formula/Pedialyte mixture.  Ryan said, "I can't wait to see her back to normal."

Sunday night, Ryan took the first shift to feed at around 1:30 in the morning.  Around 3, I think, he came back to bed.  I groggily asked how everyone ate.  He hugged me.  I could tell he was starting to cry.  "Little Bit didn't make it.  I'm sorry."
I didn't sleep but a couple of hours for the rest of the night.  I was constantly getting up to check on the other kitten and worrying in my bed for most of the rest of the night.  Monday morning was a very rough start to say the least.  We, by this point, started to notice a change in Baby Boy.  He hadn't pooped in hours and hours.  With the amount of food he sucks down, that can't be good.  Now, with two dead in about 24 hours, I'm thinking Worst Case Scenario!  I called the vet as soon as they opened and made an appointment.  He was fine.  Just constipated.

Things have been going much smoother.  Baby Boy is bouncing around and still eating like crazy.  He has gained about and ounce and a half since we first took him home.  We only have to feed him every 3 to 4 hours because he's doing so much better and...he eats a lot, like a LOT.  Anyways, Tuesday night I got home.  I've been so exhausted between the kittens and the stress of my last week at work (yeah, I need to update everyone on that, too) I wearily got formula together and started to feed him.  Every time he barely ate, formula started pouring out of his nose!  It kept happening and so he eventually didn't want to eat anymore.  He was sneezing all of this milk out of his nose and I started to panic.  Again...worse case scenario. I was Googling things trying to figure out what was going to happen to him!  Ryan arrives home to his wide-eyed wife that's holding a sneezing 5 oz kitten with milk all over its face meowing frantically.  "Ryan!  This keeps happening!  What if his mouth isn't fully formed or there is something wrong with his nasal passage?!!"
Ryan picks up the bottle as he listens to me.  "Let me see," he says as he examines the tiny bottle.
"Jen. The lid isn't screwed on all the way.  Its basically free flowing into his face.  He's fine."

I, honestly, nearly cried but I started to laugh like a lunatic instead.

We are still getting the hang of it, but its really cool to watch this little guy discover new things every day and grow so much just the short time we've had him in our care. 
Lefty is still skeptical of his presence.  I'm sure he's concerned about his place in the family.

We haven't decided, after everything that has happened, whether or not we will find a home for him or keep him but we'll work on weaning sometime soon. 

Until Next Time...

Just Not Fair.

I was riding the bike at the gym today when the thought occurred to me how much my butt hurt from this stupid machine and, thus, how much harder I am working than my Other Half is at this.  Its really not fair.

I have gained weight since I got married, but nothing I can't manage.  I gained just because I quit caring quite as much, which I'm ok with. My problem is that a bunch of jeans I bought right around that time are fitting a little too snug and I don't want to buy more jeans.  That's the worst!  I made the decision to face my Dirty 30s with a healthy attitude and there began my goal making.  Its nothing huge-mostly just paying attention to what I'm eating a little more.

I decided a few weeks ago to try and take up running.  I would ease, very slowly, into it and see how my body dealt with it.  I used to run at school but I haven't really ran much since I was 13-when I had my surgery.  Those two rods in there are the source of a lot of weird things that happen to me.  It was such a big deal if I did a lot of physical activity for years after that, I kind of lost the desire to do much.  If I have run much in the more recent past, it tends to irritate my back. That being said, I am not bad at it.  Right now, I can run .8 miles.  If you've known me a long time, you know how much of a freakin big deal this is.  As for the rest of you, don't judge me.  I'm feeling good about it, actually.  The problem is that if I run two days in a row my hips, neck and shoulders HURT for some reason.  I guess its the impact.  Anyway, I decided that I would run every couple of days and use the bike on the other days. 

Ryan decided to help me along with my new "hobby" (I say "hobby" because without the quotations it would imply enjoyment) and has been going to the gym with me to run.  He welcomed the opportunity saying it probably wouldn't be a bad idea for him to get back into the routine again, too.  Let me just take the opportunity to clarify for a moment that I have been going to the gym for the last few months semi-regularly.  Ryan has not gone to the gym since September.  At all.  In fact, he had to get a new key card cuz his was so out of date.  Got it?

I cut back a few calories.  I started running. We walk the dog.  In one week, Ryan lost 3.5 pounds.  I gained 4.5.  FOUR AND HALF POUND GAIN, PEOPLE!  Its ridiculous.  Men think about losing eating a salad or exercising and BAM!

The problem is that God did not create the female body equal to a males by any means.  This has pros and cons...obviously.  I mean, we can grow people so that's pretty awesome.  The problem with being able to make people is that we have so many added horomones floating around in our crazy bodies.  Our bodies were not designed to be slim.  So when we start to diet and exercise our bodies are like, "Well, this is weird but we'll see where this goes."  Once we start to make any kind of progress, lets say a week or so in, our hormones tell our bodies, "Hey, we don't like this! I think she's dying!"  Then, our bodies answer, "Well, I don't know if she's dying but I don't like this either.  Lets just retain all of the waters just to make sure."  The hormones say a couple of days later, "Nope.  We think you're wrong-she's dying! We keep making her cranky to make her stop but its not working."  Then, the next week the body says, "OMG, they were right! She's starving to death-we much hold on to everything before she dies!!!"
And that, my friends, is why when working on our diet plan we randomly gain weight.

Its not fair.
I sat on the bike today pondering how unfair this all was.  I finally couldn't stand the feeling I was getting from my butt and I got down.  Of course, the Other Half doesn't really have these problems.  BLEH.
I guess I need to decide between Sore-Bike-Butt and Sore-Running-Pelvis.  That should be fun.

We'll see what happens in the coming weeks.

Ebbs and Flows

So I have moved past the anger part of my grieving.  I think so, anyway.  I read some articles over the stages of grief and I would get to parts of them and wonder why they came up with it that way.
I talk to people about what happened sometimes in a matter of fact way.  Other times it stings and stabs all over again.  I'm glad I'm not as angry, at least.

In August, when Ryan came home and told me what happened, while I watched him cripple with pain for days, while I felt so helpless for our family, I skipped some of the traditional stages of Grief.  I went straight to pissed off.  I was mad at everything.  I was mad a little bit at everyone.  I don't think I was ever mad at Lisa, though.  I was mad and I couldn't always figure out why.  I don't think I even talked to Ryan about it until after the funeral.

In trying to put up a strong front, making sure Ryan would eat, and helping Ryan with his eulogy, and watching our niece and nephews suffer a lot more than anyone at their ages should-it finally got to be too much.  I crumbled, literally, over spilled milk on my hotel bathroom floor the day after we buried her.  I fell apart.  I felt like I was going crazy.  It looked like I was sad.  Like, I was just so upset and it was all hitting me at once, but I was angry!

There can't be any rules for grieving a suicide.  It just doesn't work that way! You can't put that kind of pain into a box.  There's no time to process the loss.  There's nothing that you can physically see that might lead up to them.  There's no saying goodbye.  There is just too much out there that was unsaid or done and too much that we will never, ever know.  The Suddenness in and of itself is heartbreaking.  Then, there's the Why.  That part we are left to come up with our own-to over analyze and drive ourselves crazy about. There's blame to be placed, you think, but you don't know where to throw it.  You just can't expect people to grieve in only one way or the other after something like that.

There are moments lately that make it all new again.  A co-worker said something about if Ryan had a sister the other day, joking as I talked about my Mother-in-Laws famous cooking, and I felt my chest tighten.  They didn't know so it wasn't too bad but I still felt a hot knife pierce my heart very quickly.  It took me a few moments to recover. I cried at the table having drinks with friends the other day just by saying her name.  It scared me and I think it freaked everyone out at the table.  There will always be ebbs and flows of grieving and different versions will come in and out, and perhaps we will never fully recover, however I feel better moving out of my anger, at least.

5 Things I've Learned 5 Months In

I have fallen behind on this blog.  Its not for lack of material, definitely, but mainly because I'm tired of looking at a computer screen when I get home.  I am going to get back on track.

This is just a little write up on what I think 5 months into marriage.  I realize that I, at this point, would be the last person someone would go to for marriage advice, but rather than try to tell someone how to do things, these are just my observations.

1. Ya gotta have a plan.
When you are in a relationship, especially a romantic one, you always need to be thinking of the future.  As a couple, its important to have something you're moving towards.  However, here we are about 5 months into the thing and we had to have a "Now What?" conversation.  If you don't have sort of a plan, work one out.  Its good to dream and think about your futures-together.  Whether its a dream one of you have or both of you together think, talk, or draw it out.  Its fun and...you can figure out if you're still on the same page.  What good is a future together if you're not going anywhere?

2.  Check in.
Call and check on each other once a day. Take just a couple of seconds out of your car ride, your lunch break, your invoicing, or whatever. It eases up stress and it keeps the talking going.  I know it helps if I've had a tough day to hear my husband's voice if only for a minute. We are working on this, but I think its important.

3. Be Honest!!!
I can't stress this enough.  If your have a shitty time with something your spouse is doing, or not doing, don't hold it in!  So what if it leads to an argument!  It just balls up into an even bigger one.  Once your honest and talk about it (or yell) you may realize that he/she has NO IDEA of what they are doing or that they're even hurting you.  Also, you can work out how to fix whatever it is.  Let it all out in the open. You'd be better airing it out now, or else it may stink later.  Y'know what I mean?  They may be thinking your want something one way and you're expecting them to do something different...whatever the case may be.  Don't hold something in just cuz you don't want to fight about it.  Arguing can be healthy.  Don't be afraid of them.  Arguements, also don't need to be had all at once, either.  If you need a break to breath or think, take it and come back to it later...but not too much later.

4.  Be aware of what you say.
Its really easy to get in a routine of picking on your partner, even to other people.  I think I've caught myself 100 times in the last month, at least, picking on my husband about thinks and the way I say it, it sounds like nagging.  Like, I don't appreciate him.  Like, I think he's stupid.  I don't!  Quite the opposite but I have been trying to make myself aware of what and how I say things.  I'm joking around but I started to notice that he doesn't do that, and if he does, not nearly as much.  Mainly, remembering to say, 'Thank you,' for what he does.

5.  Money won't kill you or save you.
If there is one thing we freak out over most of all, its money.  We are in an adjustment period.  I'm not used to sharing my money with him and he's not used to sharing his money AND he never had debt until I came along and married him.  Give each other time on this adjustment but work it out together.  If only one of you is working on it, I'm afraid it might be too frustrating in the long run.  Make sure you are both on the same page about where your money goes.  There will be no surprises and therefore no blame put on each other-hopefully-later if there's something that comes up.


I'll tell you what: Ryan is, seriously, my best friend.  I have more fun with him and we get each other sometimes on a really scary level.  However, I could really murder him sometimes.  Then, I take a breath and realize, "You know what, its really not that important that he can't remember where the socks go in the drawer."

Why Some Things are Just No One's Business...

While I as at a dinner this weekend, I overheard a conversation that began with someone asking another woman how her daughters were after their weddings and how married life was working for them.  She then went on to ask if they knew that they were supposed to get busy on grandkids now, and when she expected any.  My reaction was, "Well, that was inappropriate."  I didn't say that out loud, but I should have. The woman being asked meekly said that she didn't know and tried very politely to move on with the conversation.
Someone, I don't know who, approached my father an hour after my wedding asking him about babies.  Also inappropriate.  I was mortified when I found that out!
I've been praying over how to react to this subject.

You know, some people don't want to have babies.  Some people want to have babies later.  Some people try to make 'honeymoon babies.'  (Those people are crazy but that's their business.)  Some people have unexpected babies.  And some people are still trying to figure everything out.

I know a lot of women that are infertile.  I know a few women that tried and then had a miscarriage but wanted hardly anyone to know about it.  I know a lot of people that waited a very long time before they even had a chance.

Does it ever occur to anyone that maybe pushing baby conversations on people and cracking jokes about being pregnant can be utterly inappropriate and can hurt some people's feelings? 

I was putting my wedding dress on for my portraits and talking about how I couldn't seem to lose wait and "OH! Uh oh, you're pregnant!" was the joke that didn't waste any time being dropped.  It wasn't funny.  Even if I was, it wouldn't be funny.  Never mind that I hadn't had any baby-making practice for three months before then.  We can't talk about that (that would be very ungodly-like), but we can joke about being pregnant.

I don't even know if I can have babies.  Its something that I want to do at some point, but its just no one's business but mine and my husband's.  If someone doesn't want to have kids, that's fine, too.  Can we not joke and push that on people?

All I am saying is we need to be a little more considerate before joking on Facebook or to each other about stuff like this.  What if that girl on Facebook had recently had a miscarriage or had even been diagnosed with infertility and you just put on her status that's about being hungry for peanut butter a joke about "maybe you're prego!"  "LOL"  Of course she may never say anything about it but she would hurt from that.  You don't know everyone's life all the time.

Also, I refuse to think that every family is subjected to what every one else thinks the natural routine is for couples.  And guess what?  You don't have to be married to have babies...as controversial as that can be for some people.  However, its as though some people get married and there are already questions about babies.  What the heck?!
Its as though we are expected to go by a preset schedule that is put on us by other people.  We pick how our families are made up ourselves-other people can't make that decision.  If that means that you pick a partner and your life is fulfilled with him or her and your work, then that's fine.  You don't have to have kids if you don't want them.  Don't be pressured into something you aren't ready for.  Vice versa, if you want kids really badly but your friends are telling you that its a bad idea and you would be making a mistake, it doesn't matter what they want.  Its your family and you can have what makes you happy. 

When we do decide to start a family, it will just be because of something we want and not a result of anyone else's ranting, joking, pushing, or begging.  We aren't going to answer any questions about it.  We aren't going to have a conversation about how old we are-we are both very well aware of our ages.  We aren't going to alert everyone when we do decide to move in that direction causing extra pressure, either.  Its just none of anyone's business.

My Life After the Vows.

I think I always thought that a healthy relationship and marriage were some kind of distant impossibility.  Like, the idea of actually settling down and starting a family were something I knew were going to happen, especially once I was engaged, but it always seemed like such a long way away.  A far away thing that I wasn't going to reach.

After 3 major relationships that failed in a very major way, I figured that all of that was really never going to happen.  It was always easy for me, after a time, of thinking of marriage with my partner or saying we were in it forever.  There was even a time where I said that I didn't need a slip of paper to define my relationship.  I suppose it used to be easy for me to commit myself to someone but it was never that easy for the other person. It was very much the opposite once it became a real thing.

I never had 'cold feet' before I got married.  I was only ever excited about it all.  Yes, the morning I got married I had a horrible stomach ache and some really awful gas from an upset stomach.  Its embarrassing to have your Matron of Honor's husband bring you Gas X while your getting your hair done.  Nerves can really reek havoc on your digestive system.  But I never freaked out before my wedding about any of it.
After I've been married, I've had a series of heart stopping moments when my mind realizes, "HOLY S**T! I'M MARRIED."  Its stunning, really.  I have to share my car insurance with a boy.  My name is different all of a sudden and my signature looks funny.  Its finally "OK" for us to talk about certain things or (gasp) sleep in the same room when we visit our parents.  Being a mom is in reach. Just little things.

I've never been so satisfied with my position in life, however.  I'm finally comfortable.  Its a little weird.  After nearly 30 years of being constantly insecure and unsure of where my life would end up, this is quite the change.  
It is just difficult for me to wrap my mind around the fact that this is really happening for me.  Its like a whole new book instead of just a chapter!  I feel as though I finally got one thing right and all put together like a puzzle piece that had been lost underneath the couch for a long time.
I don't worry as much.  We can argue and get on each other nerves, and I don't worry about him giving up on me.  I can do something gross, like accidentally putting cheese in my ear while gorging myself, and he's still going to be around.  No, I can't try to run him off-we still need to be nice to each other-but its sure comforting to know that anytime we do screw up that we are still going to be there for each other.  Its pretty awesome.  And still pretty unbelievable.

I can't help but think that we should feel this as Christians in our relationships with God, as well.  We take a lot of God's grace advantage of.  We get too comfortable and used to the idea so our relationship becomes a little one sided.  But, holy crap, God isn't going anywhere!  We can run off and do something really stupid but he's always there to hold us in the end.  Marriage is supposed to be a reflection of God's relationship with the Church (his people) and that is exactly what it should be.
Its all making sense now! 

The journey is never over but at least I am on the path I need to be and I can't wait to see what's ahead.