Things move fast around here. Just this week I misplaced three days. Looking back on the week they're just - gone. No idea what I did - and unfortunately - these are usually my busiest, fullest days.
But you know what I did do? I had an ultra-sound to verify the due date of our newest edition. And you know what else? It's a boy. And I am 18 weeks-ish and the due date is still set at July 23rd, maybe take a week.
And can I just tell you - the first time I saw his little body. It was all snuggled up into mine. I am sure in there it is toasty warm wherever you are - but he was curled up, facing me, as if he were outside of me, searching for warmth. His little spine and the back of his head and his legs curled up. Just darling. Just the shadow of him was darling. And I know. We're going to be ok.
The placenta is all stretched out on the front of my belly. Which means I won't feel him move as much and also means 'don't panic when the heart beat can't be found straight-away.' But he's there and we're gonna be friends. I am pretty sure the placenta was in front for Talmage, as well, which was really just fine. No one likes being jabbed all up and over the place. Alaska was a kicker and Talmage was much more calm in there. Not sure if he really was calm or I just couldn't feel him as much - but it was a win. And his sweet personality would give off the impression that he was calmer. Maybe I can get lucky again.
The ultra-sound specialist was just the absolute best. Each picture she took she explained and then ended with, "Such a cute baby" And she was so super careful to never say the word 'it'. She always, always said, 'You're sweet one' or some kind of variation. It was comforting in a weird way since it was something that I noticed and wouldn't have minded if she call the baby an 'it' or not - I don't think. But it was thoughtful and you could just tell that she loved her job so much.
My mom went with me, by happen-chance. Steven was doing an interview and I didn't think we were going to find out the sex anyways. I was just going to wing it by myself and then my mom had the day off of school for a snow day and she came with me. It was nice to have someone to share the excitement with.
I am mostly excited for Alaska to come with Steve and I to the 20 week appointment. She is going to be beside herself. She loves this little boy something fierce already.
I was so nervous to tell Alaska that her 'Sparkle Flower' would need to have a more masculine name. I knew she wanted a sister and I really wanted to give her what she wanted. Even though Steven and I had been trying for a boy, by the time the ultra-sound happened, Alaska had me convinced that a girl would be best for our family. We were reading Junie B. Jones and in that particular story Junie was telling her class about her new baby brother. And that's when we told Alaska. Feeding off Junie B.'s excitement. And you know what? Alaska was just fine. I guess all her excitement is mostly about having a baby. Boy or girl. Sigh of relief.
Friday, February 17, 2017
Thursday, February 16, 2017
A Few Successes
We had a meeting last week with GOHBI - great oregon health and behavior intervention. It's kind of like a mental health thing - but specifically for behavior - and it's also a kind of foster care system in some 'foster care on steroids' type of way. C's sister has been admitted into it for a variety of reasons. They are basically the same - but C isn't in school yet and doesn't have the same expectations set upon her so she's not spitting on the bus and doing obnoxious, inappropriate things at school. Not yet anyways.
This meeting brought together all the caretakers (fp, mom/dad, grandma), caseworker, a counselor, the attorneys, and the CASA. Maybe 15 people? We talked about, specifically, T's (the sister) strengths, weaknesses, things that those that care for her want for her, and then strengths and weaknesses of the team. Of all the grown-ups. That was slightly embarrassing. But needed to be said.
Basically, though, I am super-staring this foster parent thing. As approved upon by the counselor on two separate occasions and verified by bio-mom. And it felt so good! I could feel a kitten inside of me getting nice pets on the head and pressing it's head into the hand petting it, purring loudly. Weird visual?
First thing that was said was that the foster parents are extremely invested in the well-being of these girls. We are willing learners and care to make ourselves better people, not just make the kids better. This makes a lot of difference in our willingness to follow through with homework and things.
Second thing that was said was that I usually check-in once a week with the counselor through e-mail, fine tuning what I am working on with C and reporting the good and the bad. Winning! And then bio-mom pipes up and says, "Oh, yeah. Jessica prints out a letter for me with what she's been working on and phrases that work or don't work. C knows what the word 'appropriate' means and I can tell her if something is not appropriate and she stops." Made my heart swell. All my hard work, being payed off. Being noticed and appreciated. Winning!
And so I went home all proud of myself and ballooned up and told my mom. And she was happy, and not surprised, but reminded me that even awesome people can get tired and worn out. And yes. It was a good 'come down off that and be realistic' because I was all ready to keep going for months. When really, even looking back on the great stuff that C and I accomplished this week, I am worn out. Usually the wins can fill me up long enough to keep wanting to go and looking forward to what's next. But right now I just want to be done. A weekend without C doesn't even fill me up. If anything, it makes me a little more tired when she comes back with all that energy after I have had a nice break.
So I am making the right choice. How to tell when I am done - my fire is just gone.
But I wanted to share our successes. Because that's important in this whole deal.
This meeting brought together all the caretakers (fp, mom/dad, grandma), caseworker, a counselor, the attorneys, and the CASA. Maybe 15 people? We talked about, specifically, T's (the sister) strengths, weaknesses, things that those that care for her want for her, and then strengths and weaknesses of the team. Of all the grown-ups. That was slightly embarrassing. But needed to be said.
Basically, though, I am super-staring this foster parent thing. As approved upon by the counselor on two separate occasions and verified by bio-mom. And it felt so good! I could feel a kitten inside of me getting nice pets on the head and pressing it's head into the hand petting it, purring loudly. Weird visual?
First thing that was said was that the foster parents are extremely invested in the well-being of these girls. We are willing learners and care to make ourselves better people, not just make the kids better. This makes a lot of difference in our willingness to follow through with homework and things.
Second thing that was said was that I usually check-in once a week with the counselor through e-mail, fine tuning what I am working on with C and reporting the good and the bad. Winning! And then bio-mom pipes up and says, "Oh, yeah. Jessica prints out a letter for me with what she's been working on and phrases that work or don't work. C knows what the word 'appropriate' means and I can tell her if something is not appropriate and she stops." Made my heart swell. All my hard work, being payed off. Being noticed and appreciated. Winning!
And so I went home all proud of myself and ballooned up and told my mom. And she was happy, and not surprised, but reminded me that even awesome people can get tired and worn out. And yes. It was a good 'come down off that and be realistic' because I was all ready to keep going for months. When really, even looking back on the great stuff that C and I accomplished this week, I am worn out. Usually the wins can fill me up long enough to keep wanting to go and looking forward to what's next. But right now I just want to be done. A weekend without C doesn't even fill me up. If anything, it makes me a little more tired when she comes back with all that energy after I have had a nice break.
So I am making the right choice. How to tell when I am done - my fire is just gone.
But I wanted to share our successes. Because that's important in this whole deal.
Success 1: Putting things in a positive. C can be prompted into changing, "Talmage! Stop pushing me!" into "Talmage, move away." And enjoys it. Like it's a game.
I am still practicing this myself and if I don't catch my own self and do a self-correction Kenzie reminds me. She likes helping me 'put it in a positive' and can sometimes come up with a solution faster than I can. It's been a sort of game.
Success 2: The wild attempts to get help, "I need a drink of water!!!!" Have turned into, "I need a drink of water." I ignore the announcement and something miraculous has happened. If it's something that she can take care of herself, she just carries on and gets it done. If it's something that she does actually need help with, she rephrases to the appropriate words. This small difference has made a world of peace in our house.
Monday, February 6, 2017
Talmage Musings
Why in the world is this kid sooooo cute!?!?!?!? At least twice a day I think to myself, "Oh my gosh. This one is mine!" His dark, dark eyes hold my soul. And I know that sounds pathetic. But he's my little boy. My first little boy. And I am his first girl. And we just love on each other. There's just something so extra-special about the love between a boy and his momma.
This past little bit has been super crazy with a drop-off to head start for C at 8 am and then a pick-up for her at 12 pm. And a drop-off for Alaska at 9 am and then a pick-up at 2 pm. When school started I knew I would need to make some good, solid choices. I could go to the gym in the morning when there is childcare. But that would mean sacrificing my morning with Talmage. And I didn't want to have my one-on-one time with him interrupted and distracted by the gym. So I chose to skip the gym and spend my mornings with him. We do things like read and play blocks and since I have been so sick we have done a lot of watching movies together. But we were snuggled and he didn't mind watching my non-animated shows.
He is the sweetest little thing - always dropping what he's doing to come give me a hug and a hello when I walk in the door from a day at work. Generous with the love of hugs and kisses and I just eat it all up.
This past week he got a hair-cut and I wasn't such a super fan, until I got him all dolled up for church with gel and hairspray and I just couldn't even stop looking at him! He was soooooo cute!
He went through a little nasty phase there for a second where he had quite the attitude. Mostly because I was too sick to do any kind of follow-through for bad behavior so he was getting away with most anything - and not just because he was cute. But because I couldn't move to put him in timeout when he didn't want to go or wouldn't stay put. I hoped at the time that I wasn't ruining him for life. And this week I can say, no, he's going to be ok. He was having a little attitude voice and would say 'Momma' almost like a swear word. Whenever he got upset or had to do something he didn't like, "Momma" and now I can barely hear it in my mind. Which is fine. Because I hated it. But it would have been something good to document because it was who he was for a month or so there.
Now he has turned that over for something much, much cuter and I need to remember to get it on video. But he does this little thing where he puts his hands on his hips and walks forward with his chest first, followed by his hips and legs. His face down low like he's mad but with a goofy little smile on it. It is just the cutest. And he knows it. He can't keep that goofy smile on long before it erupts into giggles.
The other day I had to take C to a dentist appointment and I took him along. It made my heart happy to be able to do that and not blink an eye. Because when Alaska was that age, I would have definitely had gotten her a sitter because I wouldn't have been able to be with C and be chasing a 2 year-old down the hall. But with Talmage, I knew he would sit on my lap or stand close and things would be just fine. It is so absolutely amazing to have a child that is a little more low-key.
Although, you wouldn't know that at church. He throws me for a loop every time. One, because he won't sit still unless he's out in the foyer. Then he is as still as can be and often falls asleep. And two, because even when I take toys, they never last long and he ends up chucking them to the row ahead of us or dropping them on the floor and twisting in my arms. Steven has to man him most Sundays and they sit quietly together while I wrangle both girls with coloring books or something of the sort.
This past little bit has been super crazy with a drop-off to head start for C at 8 am and then a pick-up for her at 12 pm. And a drop-off for Alaska at 9 am and then a pick-up at 2 pm. When school started I knew I would need to make some good, solid choices. I could go to the gym in the morning when there is childcare. But that would mean sacrificing my morning with Talmage. And I didn't want to have my one-on-one time with him interrupted and distracted by the gym. So I chose to skip the gym and spend my mornings with him. We do things like read and play blocks and since I have been so sick we have done a lot of watching movies together. But we were snuggled and he didn't mind watching my non-animated shows.
He is the sweetest little thing - always dropping what he's doing to come give me a hug and a hello when I walk in the door from a day at work. Generous with the love of hugs and kisses and I just eat it all up.
This past week he got a hair-cut and I wasn't such a super fan, until I got him all dolled up for church with gel and hairspray and I just couldn't even stop looking at him! He was soooooo cute!
He went through a little nasty phase there for a second where he had quite the attitude. Mostly because I was too sick to do any kind of follow-through for bad behavior so he was getting away with most anything - and not just because he was cute. But because I couldn't move to put him in timeout when he didn't want to go or wouldn't stay put. I hoped at the time that I wasn't ruining him for life. And this week I can say, no, he's going to be ok. He was having a little attitude voice and would say 'Momma' almost like a swear word. Whenever he got upset or had to do something he didn't like, "Momma" and now I can barely hear it in my mind. Which is fine. Because I hated it. But it would have been something good to document because it was who he was for a month or so there.
Now he has turned that over for something much, much cuter and I need to remember to get it on video. But he does this little thing where he puts his hands on his hips and walks forward with his chest first, followed by his hips and legs. His face down low like he's mad but with a goofy little smile on it. It is just the cutest. And he knows it. He can't keep that goofy smile on long before it erupts into giggles.
The other day I had to take C to a dentist appointment and I took him along. It made my heart happy to be able to do that and not blink an eye. Because when Alaska was that age, I would have definitely had gotten her a sitter because I wouldn't have been able to be with C and be chasing a 2 year-old down the hall. But with Talmage, I knew he would sit on my lap or stand close and things would be just fine. It is so absolutely amazing to have a child that is a little more low-key.
Although, you wouldn't know that at church. He throws me for a loop every time. One, because he won't sit still unless he's out in the foyer. Then he is as still as can be and often falls asleep. And two, because even when I take toys, they never last long and he ends up chucking them to the row ahead of us or dropping them on the floor and twisting in my arms. Steven has to man him most Sundays and they sit quietly together while I wrangle both girls with coloring books or something of the sort.
Alaska Musings
Alaska has been the absolutely most cutest about having a new baby in the house. She is so super excited and is for certain that it is going to be a girl. Named Sparkle Flower but most commonly called, "The Little One." and when I haven't seen Alaska all day she gives me hugs and kisses and then a hug and a kiss for 'The Little One'. She is just so darling about the whole thing.
Alaska also knows that her most important part of being a bigger sister is to make sure that Talmage and C don't step on the baby. Which she is very concerned about, especially C. I guess she knows at what speed C hurtles herself through life and her very careless attitude toward objects of any kind. I would fear for the baby, as well. A little grateful we don't have to entertain that idea of having both of them together.
I have an ultra sound set for tomorrow for measurements. I hope they can kind of see what is happening in there. A boy or girl. But even if they did, I know I wouldn't be able to get my hopes up until the 20 week ultra sound.
Lately Alaska has enjoyed cutting. Cutting anything. I just found a coloring book with 5 or 6 pages ripped out and the pictures carefully cut out and stacked in a pile. She is really good at cutting straight on even curving around lines and not chopping through the whole thing.
I think I take a lot of her accomplishments for granted. Even a couple days ago, my mom was here watching them while I went to a Love and Logic workshop and when I got back they were reading Junie B. Jones. Alaska was able to give a good, solid prediction for what was going to happen next in the story and my mom is all like, "Jessica! Did you hear that?! That is so good!" And I would have had no idea.
Alaska also knows that her most important part of being a bigger sister is to make sure that Talmage and C don't step on the baby. Which she is very concerned about, especially C. I guess she knows at what speed C hurtles herself through life and her very careless attitude toward objects of any kind. I would fear for the baby, as well. A little grateful we don't have to entertain that idea of having both of them together.
I have an ultra sound set for tomorrow for measurements. I hope they can kind of see what is happening in there. A boy or girl. But even if they did, I know I wouldn't be able to get my hopes up until the 20 week ultra sound.
Lately Alaska has enjoyed cutting. Cutting anything. I just found a coloring book with 5 or 6 pages ripped out and the pictures carefully cut out and stacked in a pile. She is really good at cutting straight on even curving around lines and not chopping through the whole thing.
I think I take a lot of her accomplishments for granted. Even a couple days ago, my mom was here watching them while I went to a Love and Logic workshop and when I got back they were reading Junie B. Jones. Alaska was able to give a good, solid prediction for what was going to happen next in the story and my mom is all like, "Jessica! Did you hear that?! That is so good!" And I would have had no idea.
Sunday, February 5, 2017
Lots of Changes Coming
We're doing a lot of changes around here. Steven got on the promotion list a couple weeks ago and has already had 4 interviews. None of them have stuck yet - but there is time.
His first one I was so so so excited about for Cottage Grove. I looked up houses, I looked up history on the town, I was all set to move into a large Victorian or a whimsical Kelly green house and even had Steven swing by the addresses while he was down there to interview. It ended up not working out, and it wasn't even that sad because he had three other interviews set up, which would get us into a bigger store and give us more money even though the Cottage Grove position was for assistant manager and these bigger stores are for a position one less than assistant manager. So I guess everything is working out ok.
The next two were in Washington, which, being an Oregon girl, I have a little bit of a beef with Washington. Because so many people think they are so similar - but they really are not. And Oregon is way better and everyone knows it, even if no one can say exactly why.
And the third was in King City - which is total retirement place with a sprawling gold course and houses start at $300K. For a two bedroom. So I wasn't really so excited. Because even the surrounding cities are expensive since it's so close to Portland. And in a fair world, we would be able to pay for a house in that area by working in that area. But I really think not. The other Washington stores were the same. To buy house was out of our budget.
And then there is the change that will come with C. I have been so sick. So worn out. Everything has become a big deal. Her volume, her inability to focus, the way she always has to do what Talmage is doing. It has just all been adding up. And then the possibility of this move we will have to make in the next little while. On top of all that is the shadow of the terminating of the rights of the parents. Apparently even after the papers have been served, the waiting list for a court date is 6 months out, and I haven't even heard yet if there is a court date set. And then the fact that even after the court date, then DHS is finally free to be looking for a family for these kids and they are going to try to keep at 4 of them together. Someone is going to have to do some fast talking to get that done, is what I think. Finding these kids a home is a long ways out.
Before Steven got on the list, I thought I could make it to June, when school gets out. But I have let DHS know that they need a new home for her by spring break - the end of March. I cannot do this forever and I definitely don't want DHS scrambling for a home for C while we are trying to clean house and pack and find new housing and everything. It's just more than I can handle.
Right now - the foster mom of the older sister - will have an opening in her house right at Spring Break time. She has told DHS that the sister needs new housing come the end of June, when school is out. They won't do another summer with her home all day. So, what will probably end up happening is DHS will put C in with her sister for the remaining of the school year and then they are going to try and find a family that has no other kids. A family that can give these two girls 100% of the attention they both so desperately need. I've already been giving C 100% of everything and you know what, it has just worn me out. I am just literally worn out. I cannot do a high maintenance child like that forever. I could do a year. But that is about my threshold max, I have decided.
His first one I was so so so excited about for Cottage Grove. I looked up houses, I looked up history on the town, I was all set to move into a large Victorian or a whimsical Kelly green house and even had Steven swing by the addresses while he was down there to interview. It ended up not working out, and it wasn't even that sad because he had three other interviews set up, which would get us into a bigger store and give us more money even though the Cottage Grove position was for assistant manager and these bigger stores are for a position one less than assistant manager. So I guess everything is working out ok.
The next two were in Washington, which, being an Oregon girl, I have a little bit of a beef with Washington. Because so many people think they are so similar - but they really are not. And Oregon is way better and everyone knows it, even if no one can say exactly why.
And the third was in King City - which is total retirement place with a sprawling gold course and houses start at $300K. For a two bedroom. So I wasn't really so excited. Because even the surrounding cities are expensive since it's so close to Portland. And in a fair world, we would be able to pay for a house in that area by working in that area. But I really think not. The other Washington stores were the same. To buy house was out of our budget.
And then there is the change that will come with C. I have been so sick. So worn out. Everything has become a big deal. Her volume, her inability to focus, the way she always has to do what Talmage is doing. It has just all been adding up. And then the possibility of this move we will have to make in the next little while. On top of all that is the shadow of the terminating of the rights of the parents. Apparently even after the papers have been served, the waiting list for a court date is 6 months out, and I haven't even heard yet if there is a court date set. And then the fact that even after the court date, then DHS is finally free to be looking for a family for these kids and they are going to try to keep at 4 of them together. Someone is going to have to do some fast talking to get that done, is what I think. Finding these kids a home is a long ways out.
Before Steven got on the list, I thought I could make it to June, when school gets out. But I have let DHS know that they need a new home for her by spring break - the end of March. I cannot do this forever and I definitely don't want DHS scrambling for a home for C while we are trying to clean house and pack and find new housing and everything. It's just more than I can handle.
Right now - the foster mom of the older sister - will have an opening in her house right at Spring Break time. She has told DHS that the sister needs new housing come the end of June, when school is out. They won't do another summer with her home all day. So, what will probably end up happening is DHS will put C in with her sister for the remaining of the school year and then they are going to try and find a family that has no other kids. A family that can give these two girls 100% of the attention they both so desperately need. I've already been giving C 100% of everything and you know what, it has just worn me out. I am just literally worn out. I cannot do a high maintenance child like that forever. I could do a year. But that is about my threshold max, I have decided.
Saturday, February 4, 2017
Sound Trigger
I counseling with C every week. Since last May. Not always for her. For me. I mean, she comes all the time and she does her bit and then the last 10 minutes the counselor checks in with me and we discuss the hard parts of the last week and things like that. If I miss a week, I feel it. I have less tolerance, less patience and a lot of just built up, "What the heck are you thinking?!"
A couple weeks ago the counselor says to me, "Do you think sound could be a trigger for her?" Despite her being loud herself, I watched and listened carefully.
And yup. There it was. The kids playing in the bedroom. The kids playing in the living room. Setting the table for dinner. Getting in the car. Getting out of the car.
"C. Stop. C stop! Stop it!!!!!!" And this repeated itself quite a few times that day, different location, same players, same lines. And the next day. And well, there's our pattern.
So I guess this is the part where foster care becomes a family thing. The part where your very own children learn compassion, empathy and skills that will be with them forever. When your children are no longer bystanders in the evolution of managing difficult behavior but are right there, understanding and changing it.
At dinner that night we talked about triggers. What they are. What they make people's bodies and actions do. What causes them.
How not listening the first time triggers yelling.
How yelling triggers hurt feelings.
And then we talked about using all of our words that we have. Like instead of saying, "stop it" how it's important to say, "stop bumping me." And even more important, after talking to the counselor again, to say it in the positive. "Please step away."
I won't say things are perfect and changed over this past week. But we're going the right way. And it's exhausting. Keeping up with it all and being sick. I am worn out.
Also, on a very personal level, it hurts. It hurts seeing your own mild child escalating into an unnatural volume. C is overwhelming on many different levels and I guess I should give more credit where it is due to Alaska for being a friend. For seeing the good over the hard. I know if they were in the same kindergarten class, Alaska would navigate herself away from C and find someone quieter. A classmate not constantly in her personal space. Bless her heart. It just makes me all the more grateful to her. But also grateful for C. That we can have this learning experience in our very own home so that when Alaska does go to kindergarten next year and has to sit next to the wiggliest boy to separate him from his friends, she'll know what to do. She'll know to use all of her words and hopefully something else. A calm, "look at my eyes." So she knows she has the attention she needs to make her wishes known and not have to repeat it three times and yell and make a ruckus. And maybe C will learn to listen the first time. At least when focused enough to be looking at a peer's eyes.
A couple weeks ago the counselor says to me, "Do you think sound could be a trigger for her?" Despite her being loud herself, I watched and listened carefully.
And yup. There it was. The kids playing in the bedroom. The kids playing in the living room. Setting the table for dinner. Getting in the car. Getting out of the car.
"C. Stop. C stop! Stop it!!!!!!" And this repeated itself quite a few times that day, different location, same players, same lines. And the next day. And well, there's our pattern.
So I guess this is the part where foster care becomes a family thing. The part where your very own children learn compassion, empathy and skills that will be with them forever. When your children are no longer bystanders in the evolution of managing difficult behavior but are right there, understanding and changing it.
At dinner that night we talked about triggers. What they are. What they make people's bodies and actions do. What causes them.
How not listening the first time triggers yelling.
How yelling triggers hurt feelings.
And then we talked about using all of our words that we have. Like instead of saying, "stop it" how it's important to say, "stop bumping me." And even more important, after talking to the counselor again, to say it in the positive. "Please step away."
I won't say things are perfect and changed over this past week. But we're going the right way. And it's exhausting. Keeping up with it all and being sick. I am worn out.
Also, on a very personal level, it hurts. It hurts seeing your own mild child escalating into an unnatural volume. C is overwhelming on many different levels and I guess I should give more credit where it is due to Alaska for being a friend. For seeing the good over the hard. I know if they were in the same kindergarten class, Alaska would navigate herself away from C and find someone quieter. A classmate not constantly in her personal space. Bless her heart. It just makes me all the more grateful to her. But also grateful for C. That we can have this learning experience in our very own home so that when Alaska does go to kindergarten next year and has to sit next to the wiggliest boy to separate him from his friends, she'll know what to do. She'll know to use all of her words and hopefully something else. A calm, "look at my eyes." So she knows she has the attention she needs to make her wishes known and not have to repeat it three times and yell and make a ruckus. And maybe C will learn to listen the first time. At least when focused enough to be looking at a peer's eyes.
The Nausea
This whole pregnancy has been a nightmare. I have been throwing up multiple times a day and having the absolute worse nausea since a couple weeks before Thanksgiving and on into the very, very last part of January. I haven't even been able to get excited about a new baby. I have just been puking my guts out and keeping on the down low to try and keep things down.
We have been eating loads and loads of cereal and a lot of apples. I loathe every time I have to feed the kids. The last thing I can remember that I made from ingredients was the artichoke cheese dip I took to my mom's house for Thanksgiving. I did a few of those, 'grab the pre-chopped vegetables and the pre-cooked chicken from Safeway' and then just haven't. I was too sick. The smell lingering in the house after making a meal was too much. So I bought McDonalds once a week and made the kids eat in the car because I couldn't stand the smell in the house and refused to get them chicken nuggets because that smelled the worst of all. I had a couple meals brought in by some ladies in the ward but those always make me leary.
It was bad enough during Christmas break that I spent the second week of Christmas break up at my parents and let them take care of me. And then we had snow days, which kept school closed, and we were able to spend more time there. And I was honestly wondering if I would need to pull the girls out of school because it nauseated me to get their clothes out and get hair done and breakfast done. It was horrible. A nightmare. Which has me declaring 'this is the last one!' Our last baby that I will give birth to. I will not be this sick again. I cannot. We won't live close to family where I can go when it's just too much. And Alaska and Talmage and this new baby will have more than just measly preschool going on.
I have been mad. Screaming in the bathroom after puking and spitting with vengeance. Not even mad AT anything. Just plain old mad at being sick. At throwing up. I was sad. Crying and crying because I was 'such a poor thing' - and now that the worst is over. I just feel blah. As if being sick for the past 3 months has taken all my enjoyment of life and now all I can do is just be irritated. I am looking forward to Valentine's Day and have high hopes to put all my energy into what I missed at Christmas.
Which - Christmas. I did not do any shopping after Black Friday. I didn't have the stomach nor the heart for it. So thank goodness I had gotten the 'important' things before that. A toy drill for Talmage and a Rapunzel dress for Alaska. And then, come to find out the day before Christmas that she doesn't want a Rapunzel dress, she wants an Ariel dress. That gave me the stress and I had to call my mom to help me out in finding one while she was out doing some shopping because there was no way I was making it out of the house and I didn't have time to order on Amazon.
Steven manned Christmas presents for everyone that we had pulled names for, for my family, and he manned gifts for his parents. It was pretty big of him. I couldn't even make decisions and tell him what to get. He had to do it all on his own. I could not think. I was an absolute puking vegetable.
And that about brings us to now. The first week of February and I no longer have to take the b-6 vitamin with the sleeping aide at night. I was waking up multiple times in the middle of the night with nausea.
"Oh, you just need to keep yourself fed" was the common condolence. Right. Which is fine until you really, honestly are trying to eat every two hours to keep your stomach from churning. And you know what. It's hard. The morning I was always the most successful but by 2 o'clock in the afternoon, I was so sick of eating, I would rather be sick than eat more food. And my body had to stop eating sometime in the evening, so I would always, always throw up around 8 after a dinner at 6. Because if I didn't tell my body that there was no more food coming at 8, I would need to tell it at 9. It was just always the way to end the night. Puking up whatever I last ate.
We have been eating loads and loads of cereal and a lot of apples. I loathe every time I have to feed the kids. The last thing I can remember that I made from ingredients was the artichoke cheese dip I took to my mom's house for Thanksgiving. I did a few of those, 'grab the pre-chopped vegetables and the pre-cooked chicken from Safeway' and then just haven't. I was too sick. The smell lingering in the house after making a meal was too much. So I bought McDonalds once a week and made the kids eat in the car because I couldn't stand the smell in the house and refused to get them chicken nuggets because that smelled the worst of all. I had a couple meals brought in by some ladies in the ward but those always make me leary.
It was bad enough during Christmas break that I spent the second week of Christmas break up at my parents and let them take care of me. And then we had snow days, which kept school closed, and we were able to spend more time there. And I was honestly wondering if I would need to pull the girls out of school because it nauseated me to get their clothes out and get hair done and breakfast done. It was horrible. A nightmare. Which has me declaring 'this is the last one!' Our last baby that I will give birth to. I will not be this sick again. I cannot. We won't live close to family where I can go when it's just too much. And Alaska and Talmage and this new baby will have more than just measly preschool going on.
I have been mad. Screaming in the bathroom after puking and spitting with vengeance. Not even mad AT anything. Just plain old mad at being sick. At throwing up. I was sad. Crying and crying because I was 'such a poor thing' - and now that the worst is over. I just feel blah. As if being sick for the past 3 months has taken all my enjoyment of life and now all I can do is just be irritated. I am looking forward to Valentine's Day and have high hopes to put all my energy into what I missed at Christmas.
Which - Christmas. I did not do any shopping after Black Friday. I didn't have the stomach nor the heart for it. So thank goodness I had gotten the 'important' things before that. A toy drill for Talmage and a Rapunzel dress for Alaska. And then, come to find out the day before Christmas that she doesn't want a Rapunzel dress, she wants an Ariel dress. That gave me the stress and I had to call my mom to help me out in finding one while she was out doing some shopping because there was no way I was making it out of the house and I didn't have time to order on Amazon.
Steven manned Christmas presents for everyone that we had pulled names for, for my family, and he manned gifts for his parents. It was pretty big of him. I couldn't even make decisions and tell him what to get. He had to do it all on his own. I could not think. I was an absolute puking vegetable.
And that about brings us to now. The first week of February and I no longer have to take the b-6 vitamin with the sleeping aide at night. I was waking up multiple times in the middle of the night with nausea.
"Oh, you just need to keep yourself fed" was the common condolence. Right. Which is fine until you really, honestly are trying to eat every two hours to keep your stomach from churning. And you know what. It's hard. The morning I was always the most successful but by 2 o'clock in the afternoon, I was so sick of eating, I would rather be sick than eat more food. And my body had to stop eating sometime in the evening, so I would always, always throw up around 8 after a dinner at 6. Because if I didn't tell my body that there was no more food coming at 8, I would need to tell it at 9. It was just always the way to end the night. Puking up whatever I last ate.
Friday, February 3, 2017
And Then There Was A Hot Mess
I decided to go with the midwife at Emanuel. The hospital that is much, much easier to get to and the appointments that are here in town. So long trips to DQ on the way home from doctor appointments. I hope I can survive without you.
This one. This first one. I have never been a hotter mess than I can remember. Except maybe one other time this week when I walked C to school in pajama pants, two day-old mom bun and wearing Steven's coat because I couldn't find mine. Stringing three kids along behind me. Talk about walking mess. Pregnancy hot mess. It's a real thing.
My appointment was at 10:40. I finally got called back to the room at 11:10. 5 minutes short of half an hour. Half my appointment time - done and gone. At 11:30 I started to panic. I had to get C from school at noon and the midwife wasn't even in there yet. And I had stuff to get done. A physical, a pap smear, some small medical history, hear the baby's heart beat and a pee test. The midwife walks in at 11:35 and I flat out tell her I am in a panic because I need to do a pick-up at noon and she's got 5 minutes before I predicted this appointment being over. She did a great job at just being like, "We'll get what we can done and if we don't get it all in, we can do some more next appointment." Which, of course, isn't an option for me. I get in and I get things done. So we get started right in and she promises to have me out of there at 11:50.
Which totally would have been realistic, after all, if things were to go smoothly. But of course, there would be no blog post and no mortifying story if that were the case. So we begin.
Medical history stuff first. I swear I have filled this information out at least 3x in the past month. But what-evs.
Physical. The midwife is not used to the room and opens all the drawers and cupboards looking for a sheet. She pulls out a little napkin used for setting tools on or whatever and comments, "Oh, that will not do. That won't cover anything up." And has to go out for a sheet. When she gets back she's all like, "Hop on down. I'll hold this up for you to take your bottoms off" And bam, done. That part was really nice. Instead of having her leave the room while I undress all the way and then have to wait for her to come back while I sit shivering in a paper gown. Everything goes fine. We talk a little about breastfeeding while she does all the feeling and touching and our conversation ends with, "Well, hopefully third time is the charm for breast feeding. You've got great breasts." I think I would have been horrified to hear that two babies ago. But now I am all like, "Dang straight, I do!" and smile at the nice compliment that to me sounds as natural as, "You have nice eyes."
Heart Beat. She feels up my stomach, trying to get a gauge for where the baby is. Gets the jelly out and her doppler and starts listening around. And listening. And listening. And listening. And then, "Did they find the heartbeat last time?" Which would have totally freaked me out. And probably would have, except that my stomach has grown by leaps and bounds and there's no way all that is fluid. Plus, I would never admit it, but I think I have felt little kicks. But they were awhile ago and they aren't consistent. Mostly I was freaked out about the time this was taking and hoping it wasn't 12 already. She finally found the heart beat, did a quick count and confirmed everything was just fine. She was probably more relieved than I was.
Pap smear. This was very quick, painless and she probably talked too much for what I would have preferred, but it was fine. And then she's all like, "And how about your kagels? Can you flex those for me?" And then we spent what felt like 5 minutes trying to engage those and I really have no idea what the heck I was doing - but not doing it right and we gave up with a reassuring, "I bet you're really good at pushing. You're using those muscles and they are strong."
And then the pee test. At this point I am so stressed about the time. I have been poked and prodded in all the places. She gives me the cup and the instructions and I sit on the toilet for like 5 minutes. Nothin'. Absolutely nothing. So I get up and wash my hands. Dab my face with cool water. Leave the water running. I am in a such a fluster that I drop the cup in the toilet. I scoop it up real quick and dry it off with a paper towel. There was no way I was spending more time finding someone to get me a new cup and waiting for them to print my sticker name out again and all that. Dried it out and got a cm of pee into it.
The nurse was outside the door with my papers and I told her about my limited pee and she was so nice and just smiled and said, "Well, we'll do what we can." I think she thought I was exaggerating at how much was in there. And off I went. Running out the door at 12:05 after all those added little time-suckers and my pee incident.
One of the foster moms that we are sharing this sibling unit with was picking up one of her other girls from head start and called asking if she could help by bringing C home. I had to quick-explain that I was at an appointment just a few minutes from her house and if she just took C to her house, I would meet her there. Thank goodness for friends who watch out for each other!
This one. This first one. I have never been a hotter mess than I can remember. Except maybe one other time this week when I walked C to school in pajama pants, two day-old mom bun and wearing Steven's coat because I couldn't find mine. Stringing three kids along behind me. Talk about walking mess. Pregnancy hot mess. It's a real thing.
My appointment was at 10:40. I finally got called back to the room at 11:10. 5 minutes short of half an hour. Half my appointment time - done and gone. At 11:30 I started to panic. I had to get C from school at noon and the midwife wasn't even in there yet. And I had stuff to get done. A physical, a pap smear, some small medical history, hear the baby's heart beat and a pee test. The midwife walks in at 11:35 and I flat out tell her I am in a panic because I need to do a pick-up at noon and she's got 5 minutes before I predicted this appointment being over. She did a great job at just being like, "We'll get what we can done and if we don't get it all in, we can do some more next appointment." Which, of course, isn't an option for me. I get in and I get things done. So we get started right in and she promises to have me out of there at 11:50.
Which totally would have been realistic, after all, if things were to go smoothly. But of course, there would be no blog post and no mortifying story if that were the case. So we begin.
Medical history stuff first. I swear I have filled this information out at least 3x in the past month. But what-evs.
Physical. The midwife is not used to the room and opens all the drawers and cupboards looking for a sheet. She pulls out a little napkin used for setting tools on or whatever and comments, "Oh, that will not do. That won't cover anything up." And has to go out for a sheet. When she gets back she's all like, "Hop on down. I'll hold this up for you to take your bottoms off" And bam, done. That part was really nice. Instead of having her leave the room while I undress all the way and then have to wait for her to come back while I sit shivering in a paper gown. Everything goes fine. We talk a little about breastfeeding while she does all the feeling and touching and our conversation ends with, "Well, hopefully third time is the charm for breast feeding. You've got great breasts." I think I would have been horrified to hear that two babies ago. But now I am all like, "Dang straight, I do!" and smile at the nice compliment that to me sounds as natural as, "You have nice eyes."
Heart Beat. She feels up my stomach, trying to get a gauge for where the baby is. Gets the jelly out and her doppler and starts listening around. And listening. And listening. And listening. And then, "Did they find the heartbeat last time?" Which would have totally freaked me out. And probably would have, except that my stomach has grown by leaps and bounds and there's no way all that is fluid. Plus, I would never admit it, but I think I have felt little kicks. But they were awhile ago and they aren't consistent. Mostly I was freaked out about the time this was taking and hoping it wasn't 12 already. She finally found the heart beat, did a quick count and confirmed everything was just fine. She was probably more relieved than I was.
Pap smear. This was very quick, painless and she probably talked too much for what I would have preferred, but it was fine. And then she's all like, "And how about your kagels? Can you flex those for me?" And then we spent what felt like 5 minutes trying to engage those and I really have no idea what the heck I was doing - but not doing it right and we gave up with a reassuring, "I bet you're really good at pushing. You're using those muscles and they are strong."
And then the pee test. At this point I am so stressed about the time. I have been poked and prodded in all the places. She gives me the cup and the instructions and I sit on the toilet for like 5 minutes. Nothin'. Absolutely nothing. So I get up and wash my hands. Dab my face with cool water. Leave the water running. I am in a such a fluster that I drop the cup in the toilet. I scoop it up real quick and dry it off with a paper towel. There was no way I was spending more time finding someone to get me a new cup and waiting for them to print my sticker name out again and all that. Dried it out and got a cm of pee into it.
The nurse was outside the door with my papers and I told her about my limited pee and she was so nice and just smiled and said, "Well, we'll do what we can." I think she thought I was exaggerating at how much was in there. And off I went. Running out the door at 12:05 after all those added little time-suckers and my pee incident.
One of the foster moms that we are sharing this sibling unit with was picking up one of her other girls from head start and called asking if she could help by bringing C home. I had to quick-explain that I was at an appointment just a few minutes from her house and if she just took C to her house, I would meet her there. Thank goodness for friends who watch out for each other!
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