Monthly Archives: August 2009

More Pregnant Crazy

Sometimes,  I just sit with my hands on my belly. I close my eyes and try to imagine him tossing and turning in there, amusing himself by toying with my various extra organs and playing trampoline on my bladder.

And sometimes I imagine them both.

Him, and his “imaginary brother” -which is what the Kid has taken to calling this spirit baby who won’t seem to leave us.

I try to keep my random thoughts about it to myself, because I really want to just get over it already and move on. (And also, people think I am crazy enough as it is)  It feels silly to still be feeling this way. To still be clinging to this idea that was only there for a few weeks. It’s only hurting me.

I tell myself that my loss is nothing in the face of what others have lost. That I am being silly for still feeling this, for still mourning the loss of something that never really was mine to begin with. For missing the dream that was my twins.

I push it all aside and I get ready for this baby, I focus on reality, but I just can’t stop seeing two of him everywhere I look. Sometimes, I even feel him. Hiccups, back  and low and against my back. Much softer and lower than his. Phantom hiccups.

And everywhere I go now, there it is. In front of me in line at the grocery store is a woman with a perfect circle of belly jutting out. “Wow, any time now,” the clerk comments. “No,” she replies, beaming, “I’m only five months along. I’m having twins.”

At the Zoo, every other stroller is a double stroller with two identical faces peering out at me from underneath the canopy.

Emails that I canceled 20 weeks ago pop up and remind me that “Raising twins is tough” and  that I need to eat more protein. I cancel them again and add them to my spam pile. They keep coming back anyway.

(I realize this is the same phenomena that happens when you are pregnant and suddenly there are pregnant people everywhere, only multiplied. )

Yesterday the kid was playing pregnant. Out she comes, with an oddly shaped lump tucked under her shirt. As I help her ‘deliver’ I see that there are two dolls squished in there, not one. And I sit with them on my belly for too long, until she protests and reclaims them, with a Mommy is weird shrug.

I just nod. Sorry kid. Mommy is a little weird right now. It will get better with time, right?

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More Random Observations

I am unique, just like everyone else:

Yesterday as I dropped the kid at school, I noticed that I was in line with the exact same car as mine in front of me AND behind me.  Color, make, model. Everything.  In my vision of myself,  I am totally not an SUV driving suburban soccer mom, but in reality… Sigh. Shut up.

At least I don’t have stupid Disney crap on my truck, I think rebelliously,  as I note the Tinkerbell sticker with the phrase “If you are going to ride my ass, at least pull my hair” stenciled next to it adorning the back window of the clone-car in front of me.

Oh wait. My trailer hitch is Jack. From Nightmare Before Christmas. Done by Disney.

Fuck.

But still. I’m not one of them, right? I only got my SUV because I am about to have more kids than I could fit in anything without a 3rd row. And if I could afford it, I’d totally have a Hybrid SUV. I am so not a suburban soccer mom. Right?

Crap, that reminds me, I have to get the kid a new ball for soccer, which starts next week.

Damn!

Sometimes when people ask “How are you” they really don’t mean “How effaced is your cervix?”

This occurred to me after a spontaneous courtesy phone call from my insurance company’s pregnancy nurse. She basically just called to let me know that my hospital does have a level 3 NICU but ended up hearing about  10 minutes too much of my crazy pregnancy fears, and way too many details involving my cervix. Sorry, random lady.

But… It’s hard not to start telling random people things they don’t want to know about your cervix when you are pregnant. (Right, I’m not the only one, right?) It’s just that, while the world is still going on its merry way for everyone else, when you are pregnant, you are, you know,  growing a person, and its hard not to think about it every five seconds. Yep. Even during the more intimate moments of life, because, hello, there’s something moving in there. I mean, something else. Perverts.

Perhaps I am just crazy and should shut up already.

The cat ate my bath towel.

I woke up this morning and my towel was gone and there was cat barf all over the house. So one can only conclude that either the cat ate it, or used it to clean up her barf from her night of binge drinking. Hey, that last one would explain why there was also an empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the counter.

Or, my husband has some serious explaining to do. Poor cat.

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Things I’m over

Because I have nothing better to write about here is a list of crap that I think can go away and be done now.

That Green Day song, 21 Guns. I never really liked it to begin with, because it sounds like, as the Husband put it, “A really bad attempt at trying to sound like the Beatles.” Since it has been stuck in my head for some inexplicable reason for the past several weeks, I am ready for it to never be played again.

The show Dexter. I bitched about this already on my Twitter, but I feel it needs to be added.  Everyone ranted and raved about how I just had to watch this edgy series about a serial killer, cause Dude, its so awesome. So, I tried. I did. I got through a season and a half and then I completely forgot about it. A few weeks ago I noticed the new season was out on DVD and for lack of anything productive to do, added it to my Blockbuster list. I got halfway through the first episode before I realized I had never bothered to finish the last season. And 3/4 of the way through, I realized why. The show sucks. Sorry people. But it does. Besides the fact that I still can’t see the main character without picturing him having sex with the guy on Six Feet Under, the characters have absolutely no depth. They try really hard to fake depth, but, honestly, I wouldn’t care if they all  died in some freak accident. I don’t like any of them.

In fact, I’d love to see an episode where Dexter gets tangled in the duct tape surrounding one of his victims, and is pulled underwater with them as he pitches them overboard, hitting his head and drowning instantly. That is an episode I would watch.

Ok, maybe that was unnecessary but seriously, I can’t watch it anymore. And I will watch just about anything. Which brings me to:

The Octomom. I know, I, like most people on this planet, thought she was over already. Then they had to drag out the special they aired last week. Up until that point, I had managed to avoid knowing more than just the basics:  Single woman, had eight babies, already had six, pissed people off. I really didn’t understand why people gave such a shit, as really, its not their problem, is it?  Mind your own business already. And finally it seemed like we were over it. And then here comes this special. So, once again, my lack of anything better to do got the best of me and I TIVO’d it, figuring, if nothing else, I could make snarky comments about it on my blog later.

You know what though? All it left me with was a basic feeling of sadness. And an even stronger urge for people to just be over it already. The woman obviously has enough problems. And people want to blame her and send her hate mail and stuff and drag her every move out into the light of the media. For what? Yep, she made some shitty choices. (So did the anonymous guy who provided the goo for all these children, I might add)

But seriously, most of us have made bad choices in our lives. And most of us have psychological issues we try to make up for as adults. Maybe we weren’t hugged enough as children or something. Whatever.  Granted, her mistakes were spectacular, but, really. Get over it. Not our business or place to judge her.

This office being upstairs and my laptop being broken: Over this. Aside from the fact that I now have to waddle up the stairs every 10 minutes to obsessively check my email, twitter, blog and facebook properly,  it’s like 900 degrees up here, and I’m having hot flashes  and the Husband refuses to buy a box fan for the room, every time I come up here without the phone, without fail, it rings. Every time. And I have some gene that makes it impossible for me to ignore a ringing phone. I just can’t. Nine times out of ten, its a wrong fucking number too. Seriously, I can’t take it anymore.

Also:  The carpeting on the stairs is lifting off the risers on 3 steps now and there’s a gate at the bottom and I have this fun mental image  where I trip and toboggan face first down the stairs, in to the metal gate, while trying to answer the phone. Also, in this image I am always sweaty and not wearing any underwear, which is how they find me when they come to arrest me for not picking my kid up at school.

Hey, that gives me an idea. I could start a charity. We could raise funds to prevent the horrible, embarrassing maiming of me and my unborn child. We would use those funds to buy me a laptop. Who’s in?

This Pregnancy: I already look, and feel at least 40 weeks pregnant. How is that fair? Also, As I have mentioned before, I am always sweating and hot and out of breath and my hips hurt like hell whenever I walk, or stand up or sit down or, well, move.  So I feel like some kind of strange, large, sweaty wild animal that makes odd grunting noises and eats all your pie. Add to that the fact that I can’t do much in the way of coherent thinking, or, you know, walking, and it adds up to me being done.

Oh, and then there’s the strange obsessions that have engulfed me. I am convinced that I am too large, by far and that this means something is wrong. Since I have had 23856 ultrasounds, and they have confirmed that the baby is a normal size, and I do not have an extra seven gallons of amniotic fluid sloshing around in there, I have come to the conclusion that either, the twin turned into a molar pregnancy that just happens to be invisible  on every ultrasound, or that the twin is in fact still there, but also, you know, invisible. (Maybe he’s got superpowers. Shut up.)

Yes people, I, rationally, realize that neither scenario is even the least bit likely. That hasn’t stopped me from spending countless hours googling  things like “Molar twin pregnancy” and “Hidden twin ultrasound” and “Giant Octopus baby with one testicle

In my defense, that last one may be true. He kicks me everywhere. All over. All the time. And he has to be secretly a giant, because why else would I be measuring sometimes as much as 10 weeks ahead?

Have I learned anything from all my insane googling?  Well, apparently, if I did have a molar in there with him, I’d be oozing things that looked like grapes.  (Let me just add that at one point a Dr DID suspect there was a molar twin in there, because he did see THINGS in the other sac that were not there before, but he couldn’t get a clear picture, and when I went two days later for another ultrasound, they did it abdominally and didn’t see anything at all, not even the second sac. There is a reason for my madness.) Also, I learned that people do sometimes have hidden twins that just never show up on the ultrasound, and that sometimes, when they hear a baby with an “irregular” heartbeat, they are really hearing an echo of the other babies heartbeat.

And this did not help my budding psychosis at all, people. At all.

So, I think the only thing that is going to cure me is having this one healthy, bi-pedal, non-octopi-ish baby already. Because in a few more months, who knows what I am going to be thinking?

Wait, I just realized that once I DO have him, I have to start changing diapers again. Scratch that, I’ll keep the crazy fora little longer.

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Lying to the children.

So, the kid lost another tooth. (And is now officially a goofy looking first grader with no front teeth.) And she left it out, under the pillow in her playroom.

Why the playroom you ask?

Because, well, because the tooth-fairy didn’t want to risk waking up 3 kids in2 twin beds by crawling over them to get to her pillow while 1754 months pregnant get um, confused about who’s pillow to look under when there was three kids in her room when she lost her first tooth a few weeks ago, so we decided to find a special spot for it.  A spot that has now become the official tooth spot, 3 teeth later.

So anyway,  He finally couldn’t stand it anymore and ripped out this tooth that has been dangling from a thread for two weeks now she lost a tooth. And she put it in her baggie, and left it under the pillow.

And the bad bad parents tooth-fairy ended up going to bed at 9:00 and completely forgetting about the tooth.

So the next morning, I get up after everyone else, and find a very upset child who wants to know where the tooth-fairy was and why she’s slacking at her job and making sweet 6 year olds cry.

Um. Fuck.

So my husbands story, which he told before I got up, was that maybe she had an emergency,  like maybe she was in a car accident. Or something.

God, so now not only is the kid sad that she got no money, but now shes imagining the tooth-fairy all mangled in a car wreck. Thanks Dear.

So she asks me, “Mommy, did the toothfairy get in an axdiddent?”

“Of course not.  She probably just, um…. um.. I know. I bet because you slept in your tent, she thought you weren’t home! Yeah! And I bet if you sleep in your bed tonight, she will come again! I’ll even call her and let her know you will be home and in your bed tonight, okay?”

Sigh. Crisis averted. Who knew lying to your kids was going to be so tough?

Update: The tooth-fairy totally made it last night, with extra cash, and shows no signs of having been hideously mangled by a car accident.

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Friday Mish-mash: Healthcare Edition, (AKA: Someone DO something already)

I may not be catching up much on my actual blogging, but I have managed to get in some blog reading this week. And, boy am I glad I did.

So, as I’m sure you all know by now, This post from Loralee got linked by the White House. How freaking awesome is that? It’s a topic that really, everyone needs to be talking about, one that is close to my heart and my life.

Had I thought about it beforehand I might have left a less stupid comment.

The gist of my comment still stands though. I don’t have much to add other than the ZOMG someone please DO something.

Actually, I do. Here goes.

We all have health insurance now.

We are currently paying over $700 a month, plus a $3,000 deductible for this health insurance. We manage to do this, just barely, I might add because my husband is fortunate enough to have a decent job.

But that’s like, rent, for many people. More than many make in a week, in a city where the median income is  around 28,000. (or was last time I checked)

In other words, It’s insanely expensive.

And without it? We would be so screwed. (And they know that, and that’s why they can charge whatever they want.)

Aside from my  current high risk pregnancy, (which I’m sure is going to cost us much more than we were told because they only cover up to x-amount for delivery of a baby, and I have a history of surprises.)…I have a serious chronic illness and, with my health problems, I have had  tens of thousands of dollars worth of procedures over the past few years. Procedures that we could not have afforded at the time, had I not been on state health insurance. And as much as I have ranted about  the joys <snort> of state insurance, the fact is, without it, we would have been completely screwed financially.

I’m not eligible for it anymore. So now we pay, through his work, for me and the kid.

I admit, when I think about this topic for any length of time, I start to panic.  I have already had issues with getting my medications. and only random almost arbitrary medications are covered. When I have to go back on my pancreatic enzymes, after I have a baby, am I going to have to pay $200.00 a month for them? I will eventually need these to you know, digest food, which is um, pretty critical, if you ask me.

And don’t get me started on what I’m going to do when my pancreas completely fails and I end up an insulin-dependent, “brittle” diabetic.

My insurance  also won’t cover the stomach medicine I need to take while I am pregnant.

(The one they want me to take is a class C, and my doctor found me a class B alternative that actually works, but insurance won’t pay for it, so the doctor was nice enough to give me like, nine months worth of samples.)

Little things, all little things, but they add up. My pain management appointment, which I had to fight for three months (In pain) to even get, cost over $350 . And I have to see them regularly, for, oh the rest of my life. Insurance covered less than $100 of this appointment.  My daily meds add up to about $70 a month,  after insurance, and before you add in the stuff I am not taking because I can’t, while pregnant.

But without the insurance we would be even more screwed because of the insane cost of health care.  So we pay, through the nose, because without it we wouldn’t be able to afford food, or our home. We can’t save any money, no kid has a college fund, we keep going deeper and deeper into debt on the credit cards, it’s slowly eating away at us and its only going to get worse as I get sicker.

And we are the lucky ones who even HAVE insurance.

I’m not asking for someone else to come pay all my bills. I don’t want handouts. I’m not asking for doctors to see patients for free.

I’m just asking for someone to seriously consider the real, hardworking people out there who need care in order to live. People who also need to feed their children and pay their mortgages. This isn’t about some company’s bottom line, or about turning this country into a socialist empire. This is about people. Real People who need a better answer than, ” Lie to get medicaid” or ” Run up thousands of dollars in debt you can’t pay just to get life saving medication”.

We need something. Something has got to give. the cost of health care is literally breaking people here. People are dying because they can’t afford  care. There has to be a way to make this realistically affordable for everyone. Like Loralee said, it’s not our jobs to figure out the answer, but there has to be someone out there who can.  Because people need an answer.  Now.

~~~

While I’m on the topic: I learned this morning that my mother’s house was broken into yesterday, and someone stole ALL their medications. Fortunately, the $4,000 chemo pills  for my step-dad’s brain cancer were still at the pharmacy. But his doctor won’t help with samples, and so they have to pay out of pocket  to replace all of his very expensive medications. because, guess what? Insurance won’t pay for meds more than once a month.


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28(ish) weeks.

Progress so far:

16 weeks (?)

16 weeks (?)

28 weeks

28 weeks

For reference, here it is again: Excuse the crappy bathroom self portrait.

At least I closed the lid.

At least I closed the lid.

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My brain will come back, right?

I’ve written before about how growing a human being has an uncanny ability to suck out my ability to write coherent blog posts and think coherent sentences. And that hasn’t changed. I have things to write about, sure, but actually getting them written? I sit down and try and my brain says ” Fuck this, lets have pie instead”.

Add to the fact that my laptop is officially dead, at least to the internets, and the chances of me waddling my ass upstairs daily to write posts that won’t make sense to anyone but me are pretty nil.

Seriously, I can’t even play videogames, and they do all the thinking for you. (and we know how much I love my videogames.)

I’ve been reduced to playing with an imaginary farm, and even that, I’m doing in the most uncreative way possible. I plant the same crops on the same field at the same time, every day.  And that’s all I can handle right now.

So when recently prompted to play pretend with my children, the best I could come up with was this:

Sheet house.Here kids. It’s a sheet house.  Yes, I know you have to army crawl to get inside of it.  Yes, I know all I did was tuck a sheet in to the corners of the couches. Why didn’t I at least get a kitchen chair, you ask?

Shut up, that’s why. And bring me pie.

Fortunately the little kids, and a dog, were amused for awhile by this sad attempt. The big one, however, was not fooled, so I turned to my handy dandy parental attention backup.

Rock star in the making.

Go-go-gadget Rock Band.

Thanks to whoever made Rock Band 2 with a “No Fail” setting.  Just… seriously, thanks for that.

Insert creative snarky comment here.

When video games lost the power to amuse, we pulled out the big guns. Amusement parks:

IMG_4455Alright everyone, try not to look like it is 104 degrees. And can’t we put a bigger kid in front of Mommy?

Five minutes later:

IMG_4484Fuck it, it was hot. And getting splashed by people going on the ride is actually wayy more fun than actually going ON the ride, right?

Well, almost: Whee.

If you can, note the facial expressions here.

I spent the entire time waiting for them to get done in the splash zone myself.

Pay no attention to the wet, waddling pregnant woman with the pie.

We didn’t even attempt to do Disney this time around, which is probably a good thing as this was all the lines and people and hotness I we could take.

So then, I used backup number two: Grandma. Grandma took them shopping, and we all trekked to the beach. But since most of those pictures involve me in a swimsuit, which no one needs to see, I will spare you the experience. Suffice to say, it was also hot, plus sandy. And there were some warnings about not swimming, but who listens to warnings?

Obviously not the girl being rescued after having been swept away by undercurrents, as we trekked to the bathrooms afterward.

Despite that, we did have fun.  Despite many conversations that started: We all have sand in our crotch, dear. Just accept it as a reality for now. Think un-sandy thoughts.

When we ran out of money, we resorted to one of the best investments we have ever made, the 99 dollar kiddie pool:

IMG_4514

Hmmn. what was I talking about? Oh yeah… pie.

More later.

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