Thursday, November 10, 2011

These last few weeks until D-day


9 months ago, this word made me excited.  It meant there was a package coming to my door, disguised as something I bought off Amazon or a piping hot pizza.  Then I got pregnant, and it was a word that had a far-offness to it.  Oh sure, "delivery" of a baby would come sometime, but there was SO much time!  Then we found out we were having twins, and then "delivery" would be in an OR instead of the posh labor room with the nice pictures and the comfy beds.

Now we're looking at T minus 14 days, tops, until that day arrives, and I have mixed feelings.  Half of me says, "I'M READY!"  Every time I stand up, I feel like an iron wedge is pushing against my pelvis, the pain is so bad, especially at night, that a trip to the bathroom is reminiscent of my grandpa before his stroke, only I don't have the walker.  I can't even stand up.  I'm giving myself shots of blood thinner twice/day now, and my stomach is black and blue all over.  To kiss Jason, I have to suck in a gasp of air, because I can't kiss him and breathe at the same time anymore.  To get out of bed requires a 6-point maneuver, that half the time results in me kicking either Jason or Pancake in the face.  I'm done being pregnant.  I'm ready to exercise again and feel like my body is more than an incubator.  I'm SO over riding the motorized cart around the store.

But then, the other half of me is scared to death.  I'm scared of the day itself.  Do I get an epidural?  I have scoliosis- what if they miss and I am paralyzed?  What if they miss something in the blood count and I either develop blood clots that kill me from lack of a blood thinner, or I hemmorage to death because I have TOO much blood thinner in me?  And then- oh- sometimes life with Jason the way it is right now is perfect.  Two babies are going to muck all that up with their neediness of our time/energy (and those of you reading this, judging me for feeling this way- you are obviously the perfect woman.  I am not.  Don't rub it in).  We have a good life, my husband and I.  It's relatively easy and free of drama.  We come and go as we please.  Our biggest decisions tend to be about whether we'll have chicken or steak for dinner.

Oh, but then that first half rears its head again, and I feel these boys kicking me, and I see their little faces on the ultrasound monitor, and I get SO excited to meet the little men that God, for some reason, let us have 2 of.  I feel their kicks and am excited to see what kind of faces have been growing in me since March.  I'm excited to smell that baby smell and feel washed in that motherly love everyone raves so much about.  BUT-, just as quickly, I get overwhelmed thinking of how tired I'll be.  Of how tired Jason will be (and he can be a little cranky when he hasn't slept).  Breastfeeding scares me...even though we're determined to make it work...I'm scared of failing at it, or moreso, failing my boys (again, if you breastfed great....a round of applause for you.  If you want to tell me it's okay to use a formula, know that I appreciate the support, but we're saying "no thanks" to formula, so no need to share). 

For every excited thought I have about D-day, I have an equal and opposite moment of terror.  I will say hello to 2 new loves in my life and goodbye to life as I know it with Jason, forever.  We both will have multiple and countless opportunities to mess these kids up for life.  *sigh*  It's all changing in 14 days.

Or less.

Maybe until then I should order something off Amazon and have a large pepperoni from Papa Johns make its way over to our house.

Monday, September 19, 2011

My little Sams

Sammy has arthritis.  It's in his front, right leg, so it makes walking hard for him...since dogs put the majority of their weight on their front legs.  If you don't have a dog, then you won't understand.  If you do, then you know that they are a part of your family.  Sammy has been my boy for 8 years now.  He's been with me since I started nursing school.  He moved with me to El Paso.  He was with me when I was lonely, and he was with me when Jason came into the picture.  I LOVE him.

Anyway, he keeps exacerbating his condition, which he's had a for a while now.  He'd have troubles, we'd do some treatment, he'd feel better and then try to act like a puppy again.  Or he'd jump on our bed (or jump off) and hurt his leg all over again.  A few weeks ago, he hurt it pretty bad.  I took him to the vet.  She gave him an anti-inflammatory to take for 5 days, and it seemed to help immensely.  We stopped the medicine, he tried to jump on the bed, and now we're right back to where we started.

Last night, at 1:30am, I tried to get him to go outside to potty, and he took a few steps, and then just stopped.  He wouldn't move, and I heard him wince from the pain.  He was shaking from it.  I sat down and called him, but he wouldn't come to me.  Jason had to carry him to the yard to potty (and he weighs 75 pounds, so this isn't easy), and then carry him back in.  Then, for the next 2 hours (and I'm going to partly blame crazy pregnancy hormones for this), I cried.  I bawled for my puppy.  I envisioned us having to put him down and not knowing how on earth I could ever make that decision.  I pictured our house without him in it, and I couldn't stop crying.  I finally wore myself out and fell asleep around 3:45...only to dream about him.

We just had to go to the vet this morning.  He was started on a pain medication to help, and we discussed using the anti-inflammatory along with heat/cold therapy and light exercise.  Sammy is petrified of the vet, so he was willing to walk (to try and get away)- but now, this afternoon, he won't move.  He wouldn't even beg for some of my lunch or come and eat a baked cheeto I dropped on the floor. That is not like my dog.  He's a world-class "beggar"!

Here are his medicines now- hopefully they bring him some comfort sooner than later.

Here are the new rugs we bought to help him get around.  His front legs slide on the hardwood floors, so hopefully these will help give some traction in the spots where he most likes to nap.

Here he is, getting some cold therapy this afternoon.

He here he was this morning...after Jason carried him to the grass to potty, he just didn't want to move anymore, so he laid down in the wet grass.  He's still so gorgeous, isn't he?

I love this pup.  He's worth extra effort and money to take care of.  He means so much to me, and I hate seeing him hurt.  Oh, I just love him!

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

On to #4

I know Jason loves me.  I have never questioned this...ever.  But I sometimes wonder if he has some latent hostility towards me.  Let me explain.

When we got married, we bought each other pretty simple wedding rings.  His was just a white gold band.  I think it cost me around $170, and I purchased it at an actual jewelry store. It was nothing exciting, but it would last, and in an emergency, it could be cut off.

However, about a year and a half after we were married, we were in Mexico building (you know, where it's sandy), and Jason took off his gloves, tossed them into the truck, and we left the worksite.  About 20 miles down the road, he realized his ring finger was bare- and Mexico was now the proud owner of our symbol of committment.

Well...that's to be expected, right?  I mean, things like that happen all the time, and he had lost some weight, so it was a little loose.  Instead of spending another $170 dollars, we opted this time to head to JC Penny, and we bought him a $70 stainless steel ring.  It still was a symbol of our marrige, and it could still be cut off if he should ever get hurt.  OR- about 4 months later he would do the exact same thing as before- and yet another ring was forever lost in a foreign country.  *sigh*

Okay- so this time, we'll make it simple.  As we passed by a kiosk in the mall, I said, "hey, let's get you another ring."  There it was- the only one in his size...a sterling silver ring with little chains engraved in the side(you know- symbolizing how he's chained to me, right?)....and it only cost $14.99.  Excellent.

It wasn't the best ring.  Soap was always getting gooped up in the engraving, and the little chains snagged our bathroom hand towels.  But, there it was still- on his finger to keep all those other girls from oogling him.  He's taken.  Chained to me.  Yep, the ring was tacky, but at least it was there- claiming he was mine.

So, to make sure he didn't lose it again, this past weekend, he took it off and put it on his caribbeaner (where he keeps his keys in Mexico).  And then he forgot to take it off the caribbeaner, so it was left in his truck.  Today he remembered to get it.  Uh-  This is his ring:
It really took a beating, hanging there against his hip.  Guess that's what you get with a ring from a mall kiosk.  So, we're moving on to ring #4.  So- is it latent hostility towards me that makes him lose/damage the symbol of our marriage?  Or, is this just destined to be the never-ending story of our evolving relationship? 

Of course it's the latter- but at this point, I'm thinking I'm either going to encourage him to get a tattoo on his finger, or I will just crochet him thousands of little rings, and he can lose them all he wants!

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Starting a new journey

Well, here I am.  Almost 14 weeks pregnant, and at home. Because of changes at Casas, I went ahead and left my position there early.  Although I won't be offically done with work until June 30th, I'm using up almost all of June with vacation days- so I've had a lot of time at home.

I'm not dealing with it well.  I get antsy when I'm not busy.  Never in my life have I not been a provider for myself- so being at home with no children yet- well, I feel like I'm sponging off Jason.  It's not a good feeling.  I feel bored and unproductive...I've cleaned all I can clean.  Cleared out all I can clear for a garage sale.  I've worked on projects, I do my exercises and take care of the animals, and I still have 4-5 hours every day where I feel "lost" in this transition.  Jason encourages me to "play some games.  Enjoy this time to yourself", but it doesn't seem right to me.  If he's working, I should be working.  I've never been good with "free time".

This is not to say I don't love being pregnant or the new phase of life I'll enter in 5 months.  I've been ready to be a mom for a long time, and it's been my heart's desire (whether I recognized it or not) for as long as I can remember.  Being pregnant has brought with it both joys and worries, which I think is pretty common for all first-time moms.  I love watching how my body is changing and adapting to grow, but at the same time, I get a little sad every time the scale inches higher (which it has a little faster than it should, to be honest).  I'm excited to do all the planning to prepare for children, but nervous that without my job, our income is going to go down, so I get nervous about how we're going to pay for everything.  That actually makes me not plan too much- the cheapskate in me won't buy things.  I'm looking forward to the time when I actually "show" and look pregnant, but that's coupled with the ever-growing fear I have about my darn propensity for blood clots.  The further along I go, the higher the risk I'll develop them.  And although I take a shot of a blood thinner every day, that doesn't guarantee I won't get them.  *sigh*.

And then there's the fact we're having twins.  Whew.  I always, my whole life, said I didn't want twins.  Always.  I was dead-set against it.  Just the day before we found out we were having 2 babies, I wondered what I would think if the doctor told us we were having two, and I actually got teary...with sadness!  But then the next day, when that ultrasound showed two little sacs and then two fluttering heartbeats- well- I was in love, of course.  God knew all along that my head and my heart in this matter weren't in line.  It's still a lot to take in.

Baby "A" who's farther down.
 So much money- I'll need double of everything.  I'd like to use cloth diapers- that cost up front will be huge.  We'll need a different vehicle.  All the clothes, supplies- and then....breastfeeding two babies instead of one!  Oh- the first few months scare me with how tired and drained I will be.

Baby "B" who'll be by my ribs and was very squirmy!
 I know. I know....all my Christian friends will jump at the opportunity to tell me that we have double blessings and that God's got it all in control...and I know that too.  That doesn't stop the very real worries from creeping in.  Thankfully, God knows I've got the brain of a human and not His brain, so He can deal with my fears and doubts like a Father does with His children.

Such a weird trasition I'm in- saying goodbye to the old and hello to the new within a 5 month window.  5 months.  And then there's part of me (a BIG part) that's already ready for them to just BE here- selfishly- so I'll feel productive and functional again- so we'll be over the blood clotting scares- so the new chapter will just start.

Don't misunderstand- I am thrilled that we have two little miracles growing in me.  I was amazed at our 12 week ultrasound when we saw those babies kicking and punching and turning!  I'm just struggling to find my place in this very weird transition time.