this is why i hate numbers
i had my obgyn appointment friday. everything is fine. i’m fine. the baby is fine. the appointment was quite uneventful.
pee in the cup. smiley face the cup. weigh in. don’t register the number on the scale in your mind because all that’s on your mind is the ice cream that’s in your freezer (ps- i gained 2 lbs this month). meet with doctor. ask questions. measure belly. listen to heartbeat on doppler. listen to pickle kick the shit out of doppler. laugh. schedule next visit. peace out.
i came home from the appointment questioning everything about life. when you’re 24+ weeks pregnant with a husband who is 7 weeks away from deploying, the LAST thing you want to do is be questioning life and all of its components.
“so we’re still waiting on your surgical notes from your first c-section…”
“oh. sorry. is there anything i can do to get them to you faster?”
“no, we’ll resubmit the fax. but seeing that had me wondering… HOW LARGE OF A FAMILY DO YOU INTEND ON HAVING?”
“…………………..uh, i’m not sure. i’m just coming to grips with the fact that i will be a mother of 2 in a couple of months. why do you ask?”
“well, risks are higher with each subsequent c-section and with this baby being a girl, chances are she may be smaller than you first child was and we should consider a VBAC.”
(i’ll pause right there just to let you know that this in no way is a c-section vs. VBAC kind of post and if you’re looking to pick a fight about that topic, go elsewhere. there are plenty of parenting blogs and posts created to stir controversy and piss people off with regards to HOW your child enters the world. this is not one of those.)
moving on… i told my doctor that i had been researching VBACs and was aware of the risks on both sides, having a repeat c-section and having a VBAC. (hello, childbirth in itself poses risks, what else ya got?) then, i told her that my husband will be deployed when miss pickle enters the world, and that “i selfishly may not want to experience a different kind of birth, knowing he will not be a part of it, ya know? that will suck.”
and cue STINK EYE.
(it should be noted that this appointment was with the last of the 4 doctors who rotate within this practice. from my next visit on through delivery, who i see is my choice.)
the doctor rattled off a shit ton of stats and facts and VBACs to me that are all kind of fuzzy now that i think back on it. i was just stuck on the look of death she had given me, which made it difficult to grasp the words that were coming out of her mouth. something about subsequent c-sections and higher risk of stuff and “IF YOU WANT MORE PREGNANCIES BEYOND THIS ONE, THIS BABY SHOULD BE A VBAC BABY.”
::record screech::
hold the iphone. so, not only do i get to think about my husband being gone for the birth of this child, but now you want me to think about how large of a family i want to have and how that number of children will determine the way in which i should deliver this baby?
apparently that’s what she wanted. dr. dead eyes wanted me to put a number to it.
i don’t know how many children i want to have. i don’t know the amount of chaos this second child will bring to our already chaotic lives. i don’t know where we will be financially years from now and whether or not we’ll be able to support 5 hypothetical children, or 3 hypothetical children… even the 2 children we will shortly be responsible for. i don’t know if i’ll get the baby bug immediately after delivering this child.
I DON’T KNOW WHAT DAY IT IS OR IF I BRUSHED MY TEETH THIS MORNING.
what i do know is that my husband will be gone for the birth of this child. that is the only thing i know. i do not know how i am delivering miss pickle in to this world, nor do i know how many children i will one day end up with. all i know is that my husband, who so desperately wants to be here when his first daughter cries for the first time, will be on the other side of the world. and yes, i need to consider what is best for my health and the health of the baby… but i’d be a straight up asshole not to consider my partner and the current situation we are in with him being deployed.
i may be an idiot when it comes to numbers, people… but i am no asshole.
i left my appointment friday morning having felt bullied into making a decision that i am not ready or equipped to make yet. i felt judged for thinking of doing a repeat c-section. and i felt sad.
there’s a lot on our plate right now. and yeah, i’m taking things in stride as much as one crazy pregnant person possibly can. but don’t ask me questions about LIFE that cause me to doubt myself. don’t look at me with dead eyes.
and don’t ever ask me anything about numbers. i was an english major for shit’s sake. numbers upset me more than katy perry and russell brand’s divorce.
deploy the baby shit
a funny thing happens when your spouse is preparing to leave the country for an extended period of time. you start to plan. the two of you sit down together (or stand, depending on how your aching joints are on that particular day) and sort some shit out. get your ducks in a row. prepare for things. talk about the future.
for us, this usually revolves around a calendar. not the ones on our iphones, but real, pen and paper, square boxes with dates inside calendars. which means that our planning conversation took place as we drove home from our holiday vacation, each with a brand spankin new 2012 calendar from santa/my mom.
i used to be one of those kids who gets disgustingly excited about school supplies. (let it be known, i am this same way as an adult and certainly as a former school teacher, however, this quirk seems to be quite trendy amongst the mom-population, so i feel the need to claim it at its true inception, which for me was in grade school, thankyouverymuch.) the end of the summer would draw near, office max would run commercials on loop, and i would practice my handwriting, label the dividers in my 3-ring binder, and organize erasers to fit in my pencil box going from tallest to shortest.
you can only imagine what a new calendar, wrapped in plastic is like for me on christmas morning. instantly doctors appointments are notated, days off school are marked down in BLOOD RED, and no sooner do i flip to the next month, when it dawns on me that my husband is leaving.
now, i have a few of paul’s deployments under my belt. i don’t say that with any emotion, grandeur, or martyrdom. it’s just a fact of the matter. our son, on the other hand, will be experiencing deployment for the first time when paul leaves in march.
and with the baby arriving in april, paul and i decide, during our hot, sexy calendar talk, that we should probably start to transition the baby stuff out of storage and back in to our lives as a way to prepare jackson for his baby sister’s arrival that will take place when “daddy’s on a long trip.”
and then we decide that this should happen when we bring down the christmas tree and holiday decor.
which all occurred in spurts over the last few days.
like most things, when this taking-down-of-and-putting-back certain household things happened, it snowballed, and before you know it, you’re questioning the paint color of your living room walls and why you gave your son the bigger bedroom (for the record, we didn’t… i’m just saying, those conversations happen when attempting to reorganize ones life).
so the lights have been wrapped back up, the wreath has come down from the front door, and the christmas tree has been boxed up and taken to storage. (also, it came to our attention when taking down the tree that our dog ate 3 of our ’12 days of christmas’ ornaments, so he saved us the trouble of packing up additional ornaments. thank you, red.)
jackson’s old toys have been donated to make room for his loot from santa, and we have felt like the last few days have been extremely productive for a family who really just wanted a few days back at home to hang on the couch and eat an abundance of rich foods before the work week started up again.
it was during all of this sorting and packing and storing that we began to assess our current living situation and how it will change over the next year, specifically how it will change once we have this other small human with female parts living with us come spring time.
our original plan was to combine what will be the baby’s nursery with jackson’s current bedroom. i never shared a room with my brother, but always wanted to. so now i have this INSANE dream of having my two children living blissfully in the same space, co-habitating in peace. (save your laughter for when the baby actually arrives.) what we have since decided is to forgo this little miss pickle having a crib until we are back in our old house.
oh, did i not mention that? we have been renting a house that is a few blocks away from the house we own because we have renters living in that house and their lease is not up until may. and then we have until september on our lease in this house, so that gives us a few months, after the baby has been born and the current renters have moved out, to demolish the house we own, add another bathroom, and redesign the currently shitty excuse for a kitchen before we move back in as a fully functioning family of four.
and all of this will take place with an infant in my arms (breast feeding like a champion with no issues like her brother had), with my husband safely back stateside, no hiccups in our renovation plans, and glorious smiles upon all of our rosy cheeked faces.
it will be then, roughly in the early fall, when our two children will share a bedroom. until then, miss pickle will spend the days of newbornhood in a bassinet, a swing, on my boob, in a pack-n-play, cooing and nuzzling like an angel.
because that’s how planning works, right? you set a plan in place, commit to it, and it all happens with military-like precision and accuracy.
this is why i have online friends
my tolerance for dealing with folks in real life is dwindling by the day. case in point, my morning errand running that consisted of running back and forth from the pharmacy to panera and back to the pharmacy.
SCENE: our local panera, ordering lunch to bring home. (i had already dropped off a prescription to be filled for jackson’s ear infection. they told me it’d take 15 minutes to fill. i told them i would wait… across the street, ordering panera.)
PANERA CHICK: “hi. how can i help you?”
ME: “i’d like to place a to-go order please… one kid’s grilled cheese with apple juice box. one chicken salad sandwich…”
PANERA CHICK: “would you like chips, apple, or french baguette with that?”
ME: “chips is fine. and then one ‘pick two’ with chicken noodle soup and the turkey sandwich, lettuce only…”
PANERA CHICK: “would you like chips, apple, or french baguette with that?”
ME: “chips is fine for that too. then i’d like these cookies as well, and a medium drink please.”
PANERA CHICK: “ok, let me get you a bag for the cookies…”
(goes to get bag)
PANERA CHICK: “here is your bag for the cookies and your number. someone will bring your order to you shortly.”
ME: “wait. i placed my order to-go.”
PANERA CHICK: “oh! you wanted everything to go?”
ME: “yes. everything to go.”
PANERA CHICK: “oh, ok… then just move down the counter and they’ll call your name when it’s ready.”
ME: (skeptical) “ok, but can you do me a favor and read back my order. i know i gave you a lot of information.”
PANERA CHICK: “ok, i have one kids grilled cheese with apple juice box, one chicken salad sandwich with chips, one ‘pick two’ with chicken noodle soup and turkey sandwich and two cookies and a medium…”
ME: “did you get lettuce only on the turkey sandwich?”
PANERA CHICK: “yes. turkey sandwich, lettuce and tomato only.”
ME: “no, it was a turkey sandwich, LETTUCE ONLY.”
PANERA CHICK: “ok, sorry about that. turkey sandwich, no lettuce.”
ME: “NO. IT WAS A TURKEY SANDWICH, LETTUCE ONLY!”
PANERA CHICK: “ok, lettuce only. got it. sorry about that. here’s your number. someone will bring your order out…”
ME: “BUT I ORDERED IT TO-GO!”
JACKSON: “I WANT THE GINGERBREAD COOKIE MOM.”
PANERA CHICK: “oh right. i knew that. ok, then just step down there and they’ll call your name.”
END SCENE.
**********
SCENE: back at pharmacy, 25 minutes after dropping off the prescription.
PHARMACY TECH: “hi. picking up?”
ME: “yes, i dropped off a script for my son to be filled.”
PHARMACY TECH: “oh right, i saw you. let me just go mix it up.”
ME: (thinking: THIS IS WHY I WENT ACROSS THE STREET TO PANERA AND DID NOT WAIT ON YOU.)
PHARMACY TECH: “ok, i have it right here, anything else i can get for you?”
ME: “yes, i have my prenatal vitamins to get and this children’s motrin. that’s it.”
PHARMACY TECH: “ok, no problem. your first name.”
ME: “nicole.”
PHARMACY TECH: “ok nicole.”
(goes to get my prenatal vitamins and returns)
PHARMACY TECH: “here we go. looks like you won’t have much longer to go with this one (looking at my belly)… you going to have a new years baby?”
ME: “um no. i’m due in april.”
PHARMACY TECH: (eyes widen) “oh… april. do you’re…”
ME: “almost 6 months along.”
PHARMACY TECH: “so then how’s your gestational diabetes?”
ME: “um, i actually don’t have gestational diabetes. my husband and i just make big babies. this one (pointing to jackson) was 9 lb 6 oz and was born a week before his due date.”
PHARMACY TECH: “OHMYGOD THAT’S MY TWO BABIES PUT TOGETHER.”
ME: “yeah well… we’re not exactly average sized people.”
PHARMACY TECH: “I MEAN I COULD PUT MY TWO KIDS TOGETHER AT BIRTH AND THEY WOULDN’T HAVE WEIGHED WHAT HE DID.”
ME: “amazing huh?”
PHARMACY TECH: “OHMYGOD, HOW BIG IS YOUR HUSBAND?”
ME: “6 ft 6. and i’m 5 ft 9… so…”
PHARMACY TECH: “so no gestational diabetes with him?” (pointing to jackson)
ME: “nope.”
PHARMACY TECH: “WOW!”
ME: “yeah. well, just wait til you see me in here for my refills come spring time.”
END SCENE.
acknowledgement and allowances
to-do lists fill my desk. notes and reminders and phone calls to be made. there’s not enough time… there’s too much time… there’s time that you wish you were spending differently than you currently are…
and in amongst the holiday stress, the cooking, the NOISE, shopping and entertaining and prepping, the UPS man at your front door, the holiday cards that still have not been sent… you find a way to breathe, if only for a moment. something occurs that allows you to make peace with the chaos and inhale a bit of joy.
the clock keeps ticking, moments continue to pass by with gusto and ferocity, and out of nowhere you hear laughter.
it takes a brief second for you to realize that the laughter is your own… which is so strange because just moments prior, you were certain that your head was going to explode and ooze out your ugly stress and angst and panic.
you pause and acknowledge the moment. your laughter quiets just a bit. you find you’re still smiling. it’s not that you have forgotten the hectic things that cloud your mind. they certainly haven’t gone anywhere, gotten any better, changed their status in any way. stress is still very much there, but the all-consuming nature of it has lifted… if only for a moment.
and for that snippet of time, you are free. you allow yourself to feel ok. good even.
it’s as though your brain reconciles with itself. it doesn’t let go of your stress, the stresses around you. it doesn’t allow you to forget the things that keep you up at night. but it loosens its grip.
and you happily acknowledge the momentary release of pain.
**********
if you could spare some words of encouragement, maybe light a candle, send some good juju to our dear friends, acknowledging their heroic strength, it would be so greatly appreciated. if i could take just a moment of their anguish away, i would. and if you could take a moment to offer them some love, i know it would lessen their pain just a bit. you can read their latest update here.
slipping away
over the last few weeks, i have felt my brain slowly slipping away to the land of panic and tension and fear. some days i worry that it’s the pregnancy screwing with my head, and other days it’s circumstantial things that have nothing to do with me but everything to do with me. and i take it all on as my own.
the sleeplessness has returned. the tears are RIGHT THERE. the heaviness and weight of it all feels paralyzing at times.
do you ever find that you are surrounded by people, loving people, well-intentioned people, and yet you feel utterly alone?
logic tells me this is a difficult time of year. the holidays are rough on everyone for varying reasons. the end of a new year and beginning of another brings on feelings and emotions that i am not yet ready to deal with. so i’ve been stuffing. i’ve been swallowing and stuffing and pushing these feelings down in the hopes that they bury themselves somewhere. i don’t know where exactly but somewhere. should they surface, i’ll have to deal with them and i simply don’t want to do that right now.
paul worked late last night, so i took jackson on a dinner date to panera. i watched him play with his batman and joker super heros, enjoy his grilled cheese, make faces at another little boy who i think wanted his batman and joker super heros, and just enjoy a change of pace.
as much as i relished some one-on-one time with my quickly growing little man, i couldn’t help but think of the dinner dates jackson and i have ahead of us come spring time when paul deploys. and then i couldn’t help but think about the fact that HOLY SHIT I’M HAVING A BABY WITHOUT HIM come april. and then i thought about how quickly time passes and how i am half way through this pregnancy… half way to delivering this little girl without my partner by my side.
how do you bring a life into a world without the love of your life being there?
and yes, it could be worse. i could be in the shoes of my 33 year old friend who is awaiting a double mastectomy next week for breast cancer that was luckily found with early detection. i could be in the shoes of our dearest friends, jackson’s godparents, who are awaiting results on their 2 year old daughter’s MRI and lumbar puncture to determine her course of treatment. because that’s what you do after your twin daughter has a brain tumor removed… you wait.
there is always someone who has it worse off than you do, just in the same way that there is always someone who has it better off than you do. it’s what you do with what you have been given that i’m trying to figure out. and given my brain and what it has a tendency to do, i’m struggling with that at this moment in time.
i’m hopeful. most days, i’m hopeful. and i do have support. but i feel it.
i feel myself slipping away from myself.
Have a Sip
