2.14.22

 Again, with the no title. I don't have the cleverness or the energy to think of anything interesting to say or anything worthwhile to write but i need to write to get these thoughts out of my head for some peace. God. I just want some peace. I need a light to guide me out of this extremely dark room that I have been in for such a long time. Years. It feels like it has been a lifetime. maybe only really bad for months. but I have not been coping well for awhile now. I remember when I was so miserable when we lived in philly. It felt like my life was at it's worse. I truly felt like I had nothing to live for. I was drunk all the time. literally. from morning to night. I don't know why or how I didn't get arrested or kill myself or someone else. Only grace, I guess. things turned around and I was doing really well for awhile. even with all the pain of Poem dying and others I love dying and just immense stress of raising a child with severe impulsivity and rage and violent behavior. I was coping. I was going forward. One step. another step. just making it through. I don't want to rehash all the shit I have been though. It feels so much that I can't even remember it all. I was dissociated for a lot of it. But now, why now? Why did it all just become too much the 6 months? Covid? yeah maybe. Nursing school? yeah. maybe. But i just broke.  I don't know when I started drinking so much and so often again. I just got drunk occasionally. just to rest my mind. then it was every night. then I started a little bit earlier every day. When my mind was swimming and my body felt like I was moving under the water, I felt weightless like all the stress was just floating away. It was a break from the first time in years my mind and body were free to relax. When I was drinking the it didn't matter if I was lonely than I had ever been in my life even though I surrounded myself with guys several days of the week. It didn't matter that I was telling my husband that something was wrong with our marriage and he just didn't care enough to put any effort in. It didn't matter that the complicated PTSD from years of physical and verbal abuse was being triggered daily by other physical and verbal abuse. It didn't matter that I was struggling so hard to keep my head above the waves but I was drowning. My moods were labile. One minute I was so angry and agitated and wanted to claw my skin off and the next minute I was feeling beautiful and hilarious and popular and smart. I felt different. I felt young. I felt free. I felt invincible. I began doing some very risky behaviors. Some completely unethical and immoral things that I never thought I was capable of doing.  I had always been so Intune with my moral compass. I would get to a certain point  of things and never cross the  line. I would always be convicted and stop things before I went too far. I wasn't stopping myself. I couldn't stop  myself. I scared myself. I didn't recognize myself. Things became a revolving door of terrible drunken behavior and waking up with searing guilt, shame and remorse. Swearing I would stop drinking because clearly. that was the cause of my lack of inhibition, Every day I would promise myself that I wouldn't go to the liquor store. Every even I would go there. My resolve which had been so strong just a few hours earlier was completely gone. 

September 6, 2016

I can't be bothered with fancy titles of these ridiculous blog posts. I can barely think straight and I sure as fuck can't be creative or witty right now. so. i am just going to write. My baby died. That is what is going down. It happened on August 20th and well, what do you say about that? I'm grieving. it's hard. it sucks. i want to write eloquently and beautifully and I want to move people. i want people to be touched so they understand my pain. but you won't. unless you have experienced the loss of a baby. you can't. i want to be sensitive and kind right now. but i can't be. i want to want to be with people but i don't. i especially don't want to be around people who aren't easy for me to be around normally. i'm not a misanthrope, per se, but i've never been a fan of most people. there are only a handful of people that i love and even less that I couldn't live without. if i can't be authentic around you then it's just too much work. if i have to worry that you are going to be offended or your feelings are going to get hurt because i'm not meeting your expectations then I' not going to subject myself to the displeasure of your company. I have some friends that are comforting to me. My sisters. my parents. my husband and baby boy. therapist. These people are helpful.

Hi.

I'm writing on my blog. This feels weird and foreign but ,oh ,so right. After so much time of feeling like I couldn't string three words together to save my life I finally feel like I can kind of think again. Well, most days. Again, I must say that when I start anything creative, whether it's writing, painting or writing a new song, I usually get annoyed at my creation and want to kill it. Much like, Dr. Frankenstein. Except, I don't think he was just annoyed at his monster. I think he just was like, "Oh shit...I created a monster. Literally. I literally created a monster.I gots to do something about that." I'm pretty sure that it what he said. I'll try not to erase this before I post it.

So, what's been going on? Well, hmm, toddler hood. Not mine. I'm actually outgrowing a lot of my toddler behavior. That's good since I'm 38. But Bubba Gus is about to be 17 months and his toddler behavior is in full swing. The good, the bad, and the hilarious. He has the cutest little voice and he has started to talk a lot. I understand like, 3 words. He's really good at saying, "Up". when he wants to go somewhere. Like, up. or down. or really anywhere. He says Mama and Dada and a few other words when he feels like it. He has a great sense of humor and loves to laugh and make people laugh. He already figured out that if he does something wrong like bite me, he can do something funny or look really cute and I try hard not to laugh. That kid. Case in point. The other night he wouldn't go to sleep so I was chilling in his room to help move things along. He kept jumping around and acting nuts. Finally I said, "Gus. I am going to have to leave if you don't lay down and go to sleep". He quieted down and was still for while. Just when I thought that he was asleep he starts making farty noises by blowing raspberries on his arm and cracking up. He looked at me like, "waka waka waka". As the great Fozzie Bear says. I couldn't help cracking up. Brother. I'm in for a heap of trouble...and laughs.

Ok, well I wish I could write more but as of now I'm getting the urge to erase this. so, I'm going to post it before I do.

Winter fog

What a crazy winter. Am I right? This has been the snowiest few months I can remember and the usual me would be all over it like white on...snow. A few months ago I was hoping for lots of snow. I pictured myself cozied up with my little newborn baby peacefully drinking tea and reading by the fire. I'd be drinking the tea and reading. Not the baby. Buuuuuut, that's not how the picture played out. Firstly, we don't have a fireplace so that really put a damper on things and secondly, while I do get some tea now and then I am just now having moments of peacefulness with my infant son. He will be 9 weeks in a few days and honestly, he has been quite the fussy little gent. It could be because he was born 3 weeks early and his tummy wasn't fully working properly. The past few weeks have consisted of him eating quite often. Not as much sleeping as I was anticipating and a lot of diaper changes. Oh, and when he wasn't eating or sleeping he was fussing if not flat out crying. He didn't scream for hours on end like the hellish stories I have been told by a few of my friends. Thank God for that. Just a lot of angry WAAAAHs. He knows what he wants and when he wants it and I can't say I blame the kid. I am praying he doesn't have my sensory issues because when I am over stimulated I can have a major meltdown. Much like an infant.

Mike and I have really been a great team. He has really been an equal partner in the care taking and takes great care of me in the process. He shares in the feedings and diaper changes and is always at the ready to take Gus if I am feeling overwhelmed ( which isn't too often due to his aforementioned help). He is a real gem.

Gus is just now starting to interact in a way that feels personal. Up until this past week I have felt like I could be anyone and Gus wouldn't know the difference. Now, he looks around when he hears my voice. He is starting his social smiles (way to melt a girls heart) and he has a lot longer periods of both sleep and content awake time. Thank the Good Lord.

I cannot wait for spring so I can get outside with him more. We have started some smallish outing to the mall for some social interaction on the days Mike works and goes to school. Otherwise I feel isolated and a little cray zay.

Welp, that's all my brain will allow right now. sorry for typos. I don't feel like checking for them.

Labor and delivery Part 1

What a week. It feels like it has been years. I think it’s been more stressful than any other week I can remember. 

Two weeks ago I was asked by my OBGYN, So are you ready to have a baby”? I said, Yeah! Not realizing that she meant the next week. I had developed a case of Cholestasis which is a liver issue that can be extremely harmful/deadly to an unborn baby. I was 36 weeks pregnant and she was telling me that I was being induced the next week. I was terrified. I was scared that my baby wouldn’t live another week because of the Cholestasis and I was scared of him coming early. My stress level felt like it was at an all time high. It didn’t even compare to the stress of the next week. 

9:00pm Christmas night I went in to the hospital to be induced. It started off pretty badly with a sweet nurse who didn’t understand that when a girl says she has a vagal response who get someone who knows how to deal with it. You don’t keep on trying with the iv and tell her that her veins are collapsing and she sits there barfing in a bucket and trying not to pass out. Finally, they called in an expert who got in and out. The way it needs to be done. They tried to put the Foley bulb in but I was already naturally dilated to 3.25c. I had been 2c just days before.It popped out. I was thankful for that because I had heard how unpleasant it could be. At 4:00am they started Pitocin. I had mild period pain. Nothing that felt remotely like any contraction I had heard about. 

At around 9:00am the Doctor came in to break my water and kicked up the Pitocin. That was intense. I didn’t know it was going to be like someone dumped gallons of warm fluid in my lap. She also noticed the Meconium in the fluid. She wasn’t as concerned as I was. That was when the actual contractions that you are warned about kicked in. They came on hard and they came on fast. You can’t really understand them until you have experienced them. I can’t really describe them because all I felt was pain. Intense, broad, blinding, felt like I was being tortured pain. I am not saying that a person hasn’t experienced pain until they have gone through labor because that of course, can’t be said. I’ve had excruciating pain before. This is different. Not sure if it’s worst than anything I’ve ever felt but it was excruciating none the less. Like someone is shredding your midsection with a knife. I was told I would forget the pain after labor. Maybe I will but I haven’t yet. The good news was that I had spoken tot my Doctor about my sensory issues and how my only plan for labor was to be as pain free as possible and to do what was best for the baby. I went maybe 5 contractions before I was asking for the epidural. By the grace of God the Anesthesiologist came in quickly and the epidural pinched for a second. I still felt intense contractions for maybe 5 minutes and then the pain just disappeared. It was weird. I could move my legs and everything. I just couldn’t feel the pain. It felt like a miracle. My mom came to visit us. 

I was checked around noon and was at 6 cm. My sister arrived and we were talking away and having a good time. Mike felt tired so he laid down for a little nap. At about 1:30pm I started feeling the period pains again and looked at the monitor. The contractions were off the chart. We called the nurse in to ask if it was normal. It was then that she noticed that the baby’s heart rate was down. She had me flip from side to side.She called the Doctor in and she had me do a few things. This is when I started to worry. Finally his heart rate went back. She checked me expecting me to be dilated a bit more. It turns out I was 9cm. She said I needed to start pushing. We woke Mike up and he and Lindsay both took a leg and I started pushing with all that I had in me. It didn’t hurt but it felt like really hard work. I felt the urgency to get him out and just never wanted to rest. I was pushing for about 20 or so minutes and he was delivered at 2:03 pm. However, he wasn’t breathing. This is when I started to panic.

 It’s hard for me now to even start to write about it because of the emotions it reminds me of. I start feeling sick in my stomach and panicky all over again. They got him breathing again and handed him to me. He looked like a tiny little alien with filmy eyes and an oxygen mask. I was so relieved that he was alive and so sad that he had to be taken to the NICU that I just started sobbing. His little eyes tried to look at me but I’m sure he couldn’t really see anything it all. People always say that you love your child instantly. I had my doubts. People always say that it is like no love you have ever felt before. I wasn’t sure that would be true. Looking down at this little miracle, this fragile little precious soul that just a few minutes before was so tentatively teetering on the edge of life, I can honestly say that I instantly fell completely in love with this child.

 He was then taken from me and placed in the NICU. We didn’t know what was going on. They said to call down in about 30 minutes but when Mike did they said they had another emergency and were unable to talk at the moment. What about our emergency? Was he ok? Our friend, Ruth, came in to visit. She being a nurse took Mike down and ushered him into the NICU so that he could find out what was going on. He was able to hold Gus and see that he was doing well. I had to wait 6 hours from his birth to go down because of the epidural. I don’t remember anything about those 6 hours except that a nurse was teaching me how to take care of my stitched up area down below. Finally, I was able to go down and see him.

New post...Hip Hip...no seriously, my hips are killing me

Hidy Ho to all my 2 readers. Again, I apologize for the long absence of my earth shattering and mind blowing thoughts. I have been quite over whelmed with thoughts but they are the kind of where I could be thinking about getting a cup of tea and then by some bizarre thought trail of the mind I am having a panic attack because I haven't organized baby clothes. Being that at anytime my brain could shut down or I could have said panic attack, I am just going to write without thinking and then hit publish. FUN FUN. So, it's the holidays. I have always been a fan of the holidays but for some reason since my sisters moved away the actual day of Christmas has been pretty stressful for me. As has Thanksgiving. I think at first it was stressful because everyone would come back and we would all stay at my parent's house and I would feel like I needed to stay there and cram all the time I could spend with them into a few days. For a girl with sensory issues who needs to have time a lone and actual has a lot of issues that still get triggered around certain family members, it was intense at times and I almost always spent at least an hour in a room by myself having a meltdown. Usually Darby would come in trying to coax me back down with a present.Presents always make me feel better. Then my sisters had to stop coming back for Christmas because it was expensive. They invite us out but a. yeah, it's expensive and B.we have other family members here to consider and lastly and honestly the most compelling reason is because Mike ALWAYS has a damn conference for work the day after Christmas for a week.Now, thankfully it's going to stop being the damn week after Christmas sometime soon but it sucks for now. Actually, 2 years ago it was in DC and I went with him. That was fun. Last year I couldn't get off work to go and this year I will be about 3 weeks from my due date. I want to go. It's in Baltimore. It's not a good idea. I've been told. But many people. I'm not totally convinced that me being here 9 months pregnant without Mike IS a good idea but...whatever. Anyway, The past few years on the actual days of Thanksgiving/ Christmas have been stressful because while members of my family that make me happy are NOT here, there are members of my family that ARE here. So we spend Christmas with those members. Though I love these family members my relationship with some of them are complicated and can be quite stressful. and since it's mean and wrong to say, Hey this year, don't invite blah blah blah, I have to deal with my feelings. I usually feel ill at ease and therefore have a hard time acting not grumpy.  AAAAND SCENE. I'm done for now. will write more later.

Recently

It's been awhile. I was gently prodded to write by a sweet friend via text. I have a good reason for not posting and it is that I had a huge secret burning a hole in my pocket, or brain or whatever you say. Big NEWS. BIG BIG NEWS. Mike and I decided not to announce it until we had waited a bit and personally ( or impersonally via text in my case) told our family and closest friends.I probably could have handled telling people a little better.  I literally told most everyone by text including Mike who was sitting right next to me. I just felt weird telling people.

Anyway,  my thoughts were so preoccupied with the news that I couldn't think of one dang thing to say that wasn't related to the big news. But now the news is out to family and friends and even Facebook, so I can feel free to write about whatever I'm thinking about.

 I'm pregnant. It's so weird. I know I have written on here many time about how I was trying for so long and I just couldn't conceive. I wanted to be pregnant so much and was so frustrated that I just wasn't.But it's time to be honest. We weren't really trying too hard for all those years. We were trying for awhile and even went to the fertility doctor maybe 4 or 5 years ago. After lots of tests and poking and prodding and even a painful surgery with only LOCAL anesthesia (as in they were cutting me and I could not only see it on screen but FEEL the hell out of it) I was basically told that I had Poly-cystic ovaries and that I was too morbidly obese for the doctor to help me. She told me that she felt that I was too unhealthy to get pregnant. I was sad and mortified. Something else I was too fat to do. The person who was supposed to help when you can't do it on your own was saying, Yeah, I'm not going to help you because you are too fat. So I kind of gave up for awhile. I thought that maybe the Doctor was right. If my body wasn't naturally conceiving then maybe there was a reason. Maybe my body couldn't handle a pregnancy.

We began to discuss adoption but it just didn't feel right. I had this nagging feeling in the back of my head that I would get pregnant someday and that it just wasn't the right time.

So, with that in mind,  I was content with not being pregnant. I had a new goal. I wanted to get my body healthier.I worked really hard to make that goal a reality. A little over a year after my  bariatric surgery and a significant amount of weight lost I figured we could start trying again. I wanted to start naturally so I started charting. The first month I charted I got pregnant.

After 7 and a half years of being married and thinking it was a very real possibility that I would never be a mother you would think that positive pregnancy test would have sent me over the moon with joy and excitement. In reality, it sent me into dissasociation, then panic, then overwhelming bad feelings that I couldn't actually pin point. Then I felt guilty for not being overjoyed and so grateful for the blessing. Mainly I just felt really doubtful that I was really pregnant.

So time went on and I started feeling symptoms. Let's just say that feeling so horribly physically did nothing good for my bad emotional feelings. I was kind of in a tough place.

Then the other day I went to the Doctor. It was second appointment and I really had no idea what to expect. I was pleasantly surprised when they announced that I was going to be getting an ultrasound. It was so odd. She pointed out my "little pumpkin". The head, the arms. The tiny little legs. The heart beat. I just felt happiness. I felt wonder. There really is a little baby inside of me. A baby that at just 11 weeks in utero  had my heart doing flip flops and my eyes filling with tears. I couldn't stop smiling. It was even better when I got home and showed Mike the pictures.

I'm feeling better physically. I have bad days that are getting fewer the closer I get to my second trimester. I'm getting excited. Feeling more peaceful. Still have moments of being extremely overwhelmed but I'm working on it.

That's what's been going on with me for the past 8 weeks.