7 posts tagged “family”
Oh man, I'm so excited. I get to see Neil Diamond again in October and couldn't be happier! My gramma, mom, step-dad, aunt, cousin and sister are all going and I'm stoked! His new album Home Before Dark rocks my world too!
Birthdays...I remember when they used to be a big deal. Hell, we just had our daughter's 6th b-day party a few weeks ago and it was a huge thing. I guess once you have kids/get older your birthday doesn't mean as much. Which depresses me. I've always been a huge birthday fan. I mean, what could be better than a day, a day all for you? Yeah...call me spoiled, call me selfish, I am dammit.
So, today...the big 2-9...but you know what, it's now just another Monday. Complete with the runs, work and a migrane. Ankle pain, stomach cramps and customer service phone work. Thank God I have awesome family and friends who still call/email to wish me a special day 'cause I didn't get no cake! LMAO!
Happy Birthday to ME!
Someone in my family had a mammogram today. Someone in my family has to have a breast ultrasound soon to make sure the blurb on the mammogram is ok...and just a blurb. I'm worried that this blurb in someone's boob isn't just a blurb and is worse.
Someone else in my family has throat/nerve issues. Someone in my family had surgery last year to fuse some shit and it may have messed with a pretty important nerve in her neck/throat. I'm worried that this nerve issue in someone's neck will require more surgery.
Someone else in my family just got his Master's degree. Someone in my family has gone further in school than anyone thought. I'm bursting with pride for this someone.
Someone else in my family is having fertility issues. Someone in my family has been through such heartache because she cannot get pregnant. I know the pain this someone is going through and I wish I could do more.
Someone else in my family is different than I thought they were. Someone in my family has either changed with age or I have. I dearly miss the years I have thrown away with this person and have told him so.
Someone else in my family has to leave for two weeks. Someone in my family has to miss very important things in his family's life because of a sacrifice he made for us and this country. I'm grateful for what this person does for everyone.
Much love to all the someone's in everyone's lives.
Sorry 'bout that! It's been a month and I have to admit, it's been a great month! What's Scrappening had a GREAT National Scrapbook Day crop. We hosted one in person and one online. Bunches of fun was had by all. We're also gearing up for CHA in July. It'll be our first time to CHA and our first time to Chicago, I know I'm looking forward to it.
My best friend from 7th grade (yeah, we've been friends for more than half our lives now!) graduated from college while I was up in Tulsa too. I am so proud of her, I mean she's got two kids, husband, house and was working on her own business too while wrapping up college. It takes a strong person to do that and she's my inspiration and what I look to when I'm in school. Not only is she a wonderful friend, whom I can call and BS or cry to, but she's damn smart and has a wonderful head on her shoulders too. Seeing her walk across that stage when they called her name got me. I got teary-eyed. Surprisingly I didn't cry, but the sting of tears was present. I kept telling her that I was jealous of her and making jokes about me taking forever in school, but that's not all I was feeling. I was feeling pride, respect, happiness and even relief. Pride: she's my friend, she's Fritter and will always be Fritter. Respect: that she did it and she did it well! Happiness: reaching that milestone and seeing her smile on that stage even from where we were. Relief: she did it and I know I can too. I just have so many words and feelings about that day and I say them all with a smile on my face, a tear in my eye and a giggle in my voice because she did it and I'm honored to call her my best friend.
Before that Tulsa trip I had finally come to the conculsion that I needed mental help. Yeah yeah, insert joke here! But I really honestly did need help and Sean helped me see that. Every year we've been married we've had something go terribly wrong or change drastically and the last blow was in October when my fertility was ripped from me as I sat in that doctors office. I didn't realize how much that all had piled on me or hurt me, I kept it deep down and rarely realeased it. It came to a head and I had to do something before losing my family; child and husband. I made an appointment with my family practioner and told him everything I was feeling from the depression, the tiredness, the horrible headaches and aches and pain to the not wanting to leave the house for fear something would happen to Kenna or me. It was one of the hardest things to tell someone, to let them know what's deep in your head and heart and know that those feelings are not "right" but knowing someone needed to know or else you'd explode. I tell you all here because I think mental health issues need to be out in the open, there's such a taboo around them that it's unfair to those suffering because it just adds to the pain. My doctor was/is wonderful. He listened attentively, asked questions about how long I've been feeling like this, what I've been through and what I want to do to help myself. He finally dignosed me with Depression and Generalized Anxiety Disorder and put me on meds. I won't go into which one but if you're feeling the way I was and want to know what is working for me, please PM me and I'd be happy to tell you which. He gave me a month of samples of my happy drug and told me to find a councelor. I also explained that I don't want to be on my happy drugs for forever, we agreed that 6-8 months of the happy drug therapy would be just fine, but we'd discuss that at 6 months.
I've been on the drugs for almost one month now and I'm finally myself again. I'm happy, I go places with Kenna, I'm enjoying my daughter and she's enjoying her new (old) momma. This is the best thing I've done in a long time and I'm ready to take the world head on. I'm ready to be a good wife and mom again, I'm ready to graduate, I'm ready to kick ass at the business and I'm ready to be ME! I've been through a hell of a lot, too much for any person if you ask me and it's ok to get help. So, please know that any type of mental health issue is NOT an issue! Talk to someone you trust and get the help you need, you'll be surprised how wonderful you feel.
I've cried while typing this because it is still hard to talk about these things. I still feel, but I'm coping much better than I ever was. The drugs have some not so fun side-effects. Profuse sweating (and in South Texas in the summer that's so not what a woman needs!), lack of sex-drive, difficulty in reaching orgasm, dry mouth, etc...but I've decided that sweaty sex that lasts longer 'cause I can't climax easily isn't such a bad thing! LMAO!
I swore I wasn’t going to do this, I swore that I would not be that “girl” who looks at her TTC chart a gazillion times a day, but dammit I am! I'm not sure why I look so often, nothing new will be there, hell I'm the one that inputs all the info so it just can't magically appear, but I’m addicted. I read the message boards on Fertility Friend, I post topics like “please take a look” and “did I O?” I have never seen such a shitty chart and here I am actually WISHING that AF (Aunt Flo for those not in the know) would show up when we get back from Vegas so I can ask my great doc for Clomid. I used to take it for granted…a “whoops” pregnancy or a surprise pee stick that just happened to show two lines, but somehow some time ago my body decided to screw itself up. I think my ovaries have decided it would be fun to HOARDE the damn eggies and not release any because they like them or think they are cute.
Dammmmmmittt…ovaries, listen to your owner, your mother, your life-blood…I want to have a baby but cannot if you do not surrender your precious gems, you have hijacked my body for far too long and because of this I will ask to have drugs, good drugs that MAKE you pop a follicle…just try me you little bastards.
Ok, so I have a friend who just cracks me up...we'll call her Yvette (LOL)...ya know since that's her name and all. She's a hoot...one of those friends who you call when you need a laugh, when you are in the hospital with gallstones and need a sitter, or just need a weekend away with the girls. She's my little firecracker...redheaded and all. She’s got three gorgeous kids and a very tall husband. But for some reason, she seems amazed by ME…me…why me…
Every time, or just about damn near, we talk or email there’s always a reference to me being the “woman of steel”…and it’s not ‘cause my rock hard ass either. To be quite honest it bothered me at the beginning. I’m so not made of steel, if I were my pregnancy issues would just bounce off of me with a cute little “ting” sound, I’d need an oil can instead of a Smirnoff Triple Black to get me “lubed-up” and come on…I’m not really a silver fan, more of a gold and diamonds girl. But I knew what she meant, she thinks of me as a strong person able to handle any and everything thrown at me. And I finally realized that in some ways, she may be a little right.
Now, before you think I’m sitting here tootin’ my own horn of steel, let me tell you that I’m not that strong. I’ve thought about many unpleasant things…some that would probably scare the be-Jesus out of my family, but it was that same friends and family who would be scared to know this who pulled me out of that. I have horrible days, days of the pity party, days of the wanting to be in bed crying, days of watching “A Baby Story” on TLC crying, days of google’ing, days of reading pregnancy and loss blogs/message boards crying…do you see a pattern?
Even with these crappy days I know I have to be here for Kenna and that I’m here for a reason. God is not punishing me for sneaking out of my house in Jr. High with Jennifer, God is not punishing me for cussing like a sailor; in no way shape or form is he punishing me. It’s actually a blessing because I know there is a Heaven now, I know that I have angels looking out for us and I know that I’m here for our daughter so she knows these things too. How many times have I heard the whole “what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger” and my favorite “God only gives us what we can handle”. I agree with those, completely. I still have my moments, my crappy days and I think I’m allowed to have those on occasion. I am not the strongest, I’m not the only “woman of steel”, I’m not the ONLY woman who has lost babies/children before, and there are millions of us out here.
I would not be the steel-y person I am today without my family and friends helping me along. I’m pretty sure I’d be tucked away nicely in a pretty off-white padded room. You are only as strong as the people you acquaint yourself with, that, my dear friends/family, says a lot about you too. So, thank you. I may actually be a woman of steel, but that is only because of my support system of steel. Love to you all!
Well, I figured I had better let y'all in on us...why we're here, who we are and just a little background for you. I guess it's best to start from the beginning huh, so here it goes.
We were married in May of 2000. Two weeks before we got married we found out we were already expecting. I was excited, no one knew except for me, Sean and my sister. Just a few days later we lost our baby. I was clueless, I had never been pregnant, never lost a baby and wasn't sure what to do. We just went on like usual, and still no one knew. After our honeymoon I was ready to be a mom. Soon after we got pregnant again, on Labor Day weekend actually! Everything was going along just fine and dandy then one day I just didn't feel "right". We went to the doctor and were told some of the worst news no one should hear. Our daughter, Avery, was gone. I was 26 wks pregnant. After more testing to make sure and a horribly long induction, our little 1 lb baby was born. Although tiny, she was perfect.
We got pregnant soon after again and had another semi-easy pregnancy. Well, the pregnancy was ok; it was my mental state that sucked. I was a nervous wreck...checking the toilet paper in the early stages of pregnancy, begging the baby later on to "just kick again, please", and then counting the minutes between contractions...way too soon. Our next daughter, Kenna, wanted out a little too early, at 30 weeks to be exact. So, I was put on bed rest and terbutaline for 8 weeks or so. I had weekly NST's and doctor's appointments, it was not fun, but it was necessary. Then I had to be induced, the irony of it, and Kenna came out just fine, sort of. My placenta looked like hell, Kenna wasn't breathing all that great but she was alive and screaming.
Our next baby, a son named Jackson, was a surprise. I was nervous from the beginning and nothing ever felt "right" about that pregnancy. I spotted from early on, was put on bed rest for a few days here and there for the bleeding, itched like crazy and didn't feel like everything was ok. You know, a mother's intuition...something just wasn't right. I woke up on August 16th sick, hurting like you can't imagine, I couldn't stand I was dizzy, throwing up and couldn't even really keep a coherent thought in my head. I was 26 wks again, D-day for us. It took us over an hour to get to the hospital since we lived in the middle of nowhere. By the time we got there I had been passing out in the car and didn't know it. As I was getting my vitals done I was throwing up again and thought my water had broken or I pee'd the bed (we're being honest here!). Little did I know that it wasn't amniotic fluid or urine, it was blood and a ton of it. My blood pressure crashed and the doc finally came in. Now this is where I add some more info about my doctor. This blog is not to bash him, diss him or slander the guy so I'll refrain from telling you his name, but he screwed up and BIG TIME! He was the one who delivered Kenna so I think he thought all was well, but he pretty much ignored me this entire pregnancy. He came in a long while after I had been at the hospital, he even knew I was coming; I had called him before we left our house. He finally realized how bad of shape I was in and finally did something about it. I had to have a central line put in, given too many pints of blood to count and eventually after 8-ish hours I went into an "emergency" c-section. Our son was gone; he was gone before we got to the hospital. Another baby gone, another 26 wk stillborn. I don't remember too much of that day since I was in and out of it, but I do remember telling the nurse before we knew for sure that Jackson was gone that "we'd already lost one baby, please don't say that we lost another". I was in ICU for a few days, the day after was when I woke up with the ventilator down my throat still asking the nurse what happened (writing it actually). She told me that the baby was gone, which I remembered already, told me I had a c-section, I remembered that too, told me I still had my uterus, which I was thankful for and told me that I went into DIC, which I won't spell out. After shift-change, the vent coming out and my oh so demeaning sponge bath, I asked my new nurse what really happened. He said something that I will never forget, "DIC...wow, we don't see many of you up here, most of y'all end up in the morgue."
While in the hospital I told Sean that I can't do this again, I couldn't be in the hospital going home with no baby again, I almost died...but the desire for more babies is apparently too much. We got pregnant again just this past month and three days later I woke up to another miscarriage. But, there is good news...
I finally have a new ob/gyn and a specialist who are in the process of doing tons of blood work. So, there's a brief, if you can call it that, history of us. This blog is about what the docs find out, how we will treat it and hopefully you can join us through a scary, nerve-wracking yet healthy pregnancy.
Thanks for reading!
