Sunday, March 21, 2010

Baby Sam

I was at my o.b. appointment this past week, and the doc and I were wrapping things up. I forget now what question he asked, but I mentioned that no, I didn't know what sex the baby was, although I really wished I knew. As it was, I was going to have to do all the shopping AFTER the baby was born. He took pity on me, and with a smile said we could go take a peek in the ultrasound room, no charge. So, he had one of his nurse assistants fire it up, and we met down the hall. I was so excited! Now I can do some of the fun things to get ready, make blankets and collect baby clothes. Sure enough, it only took a few seconds, after seeing that he was head down and that I had plenty of amniotic fluid, we could see that he was a boy, clear as day, all his little boy parts in the right place. Dr. Allyn did what he calls the "jello test," where he wiggled my belly, and baby's two little balls just jiggled right along. Kind of funny! But I was excited and pleased, smirking a little, because I thought, "I was right!!" I had the boy vibe all along, and I think I've been right with every kid. Not bad statistics! I've had a boy name picked out, practically from the beginning. Samuel. I have no idea what we'll pick for a middle name, but he's baby Sam for now.

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Long Time No See


Okay, for all intents and purposes, I haven't blogged seriously for nearly six months. I had a few posts, but that wasn't saying much. I've decided that I need to start doing this again, for my own sanity, to stay connected out there. I've changed my blog to a completely private blog. I know it's irritating to have to log in and all that jazz just to read it, but I have two reasons for switching from a public blog to a private blog: 1)I started to get lots of yucky junkmail comments on my blog which told me that weird people were reading my blog and 2) I have lots of private things to talk about that frankly, I just don't want the general public reading. So, that's that.

What's up with me, not blogging for six months? It's about two things, really, one is physical, and one is psychological. First, this pregnancy has really thrown me for a loop. I'm getting closer to 40, and for the first time, I'm feeling it. It's hard to put into words how being pregnant has completely sapped my mental and psychological energy. I've just been a basket case. When I first suspected I was pregnant, I went off my anti-anxiety meds (Cymbalta), because the included literature warned strenuously not to take it during pregnancy, because they didn't have a whole lot of data on pregnant women yet, being a newer medication. Five years down the road, after it's been in circulation a while, it will probably be more accepted. But anyway, that was contributing to the whole issue. Other physical changes - constant fatigue. As you guys noticed, my lose-weight thing went bust shortly after becoming pregnant, which you'd expect, but it wasn't just the normal issue of gaining weight in order to grow a baby. Any day I exercised, I would nearly pass out from exhaustion within an hour or two of exercising, so I quit. And that contributed to the whole ball of wax. I forget now when my sleep patterns changed, but at some point, my nights started to be really difficult. I wake up at least six to eight times a night to go to the bathroom, and then it takes me another 15 to 20 minutes, I'm guessing, just to fall back asleep each time. It's a bunch of little pieces of sleep. It probably takes me at least ten hours a day to get the rest I used to get in seven. Add some more recent late-night insomnia to the equation, and it's really a mess. Poor Connor and Emma watch a LOT of tv and eat too much popcorn, hot dogs, and strawberry milk while their mother lies in a stupor on the couch or in bed.

The second part of the equation, is the psychological. I don't even know how deep to go into this, or how to explain, but it's way, way more than just being off my meds. There are the completely random, non-sensical freaked-out feelings I get sometimes, that is usually alleviated a great deal by my meds, but it's a whole lot more. Having to quit daycare a year ago made things financially difficult for us, and I made it worse by thinking I could do the whole scrapbooking business thing again, buying a bunch of product on credit to resell it. Very few people can really make a good go of the home-business thing, and I am definitely not one of them, getting distracted a lot at home, never fully following up on all the ideas I have. I'm great working for other people, but lousy completely left up to my own devices. So, I carried around a lot of guilt and stress from that issue, still do. This was the second time I've made such a big mess of our finances, and I have been in constant despair over what to do with myself, where I fit in the universe. How could I be so stupid, AGAIN, how will I ever be right in the head? A whole lifetime of stupid just constantly parades across my mind, hour after hour, day after day. Why, Sue has asked, do I do that to myself, why not do whatever it takes to get over it already? I think because it's a bizarre kind of safety, if I just get down and stay down, I can't fall down and get hurt again or hurt other people again, even though being down hurts and is very limiting. I know my kids need me, and I love them, and that's about all that has held me to this earth for months.

Okay, so let's talk about things that are changing. In November/December I'd decided that I had no choice, that no matter how scary and stressful it was to undertake home daycare again, I was just going to have to do it. In December, I sold off, at big losses, most of my remaining scrapbooking supplies and tools, on eBay. It helped us to give Christmas to our kids, but none of it went towards our debt. The first few weeks of January, I started running ads in our local newspaper for daycare. I got a couple of calls, but nothing serious, and I was starting to wonder what in the world we were going to do. Frankly, I think there was some heavenly intervention going on there, because when I used to do daycare, I would get half a dozen serious calls, no problem, when I would run ads. But for three weeks, nothing, and frankly, I took this as kind of a hint. I was really in no condition to be taking care of other people's kids, anyway.

And right about then, the last week of January, Zen heard an ad on the radio for a seminar about learning to work at home as a medical transcriptionist. It's something that has been kicked around, so to speak, for a while (Zen has a cousin who does it), but I just didn't have the mental fortitude to track it down and completely research the issue and figure out what to do to get trained and employed. So, I went to the seminar, and frankly, it seemed like such a huge blessing, the right thing at the right time. It was a seminar put on by a trade-school type of organization based out of Colorado, called Weston Distance Learning, with a subdivision called At-Home Professions that handles the medical transcription. You completely study at home with their course materials, study at your own pace, and they have people who help you find a job working from home when you are done, which is exactly what I need right now, soon to have three little kids at home, and years before it's not going to cost me an arm and a leg for daycare. After the seminar, I spent a few days checking out At-Home Professions with various professional medical organizations and the Colorado Better Business Bureau, just to make sure they are legitimate, and everything looked good. They've been in operation for nearly 30 years, and have lots of experience, so I decided to go ahead. The training is split into 50 lessons organized into 5 main courses, and I'm just about to finish the first course, and start on the second. We're staying afloat right now with our tax return, but I'm under a little bit of a deadline, because that money won't last forever. I'm going to try to get through the second course, and into the third before the baby comes, and hopefully finish the whole thing by the end of May or June.

Speaking of which, I have my c-section tentatively scheduled for Tuesday, April 6th. We still don't know if it's a boy or girl. At my 20-week ultrasound, my doc looked and looked, but he couldn't tell. We could see all the working parts, from brains to stomach to ten fingers and ten toes, but the middle was just a blur. Personally, I think it's a boy, and we will name him Samuel, but of course, that's just an impression, not a guarantee. It's coming pretty fast now, and I will be so glad to not be pregnant any more. I want my old me back. I'm tired of having a sluggish body, I can't wait to exercise and have energy again. And I'm pretty sure this is the last one. I'm talking to my doc, and looking into getting my tubes tied. Enough is enough.

This pregnancy hasn't just been hard on me, it's been really hard on everyone else. As you can imagine, I just haven't been there very much for everyone, barely getting diapers changed, kids fed, and everyone in bed at night. The house has been almost a constant disaster for months, and I haven't been much use to anyone, practically or emotionally, and the strain has been showing, especially making my husband freaked out and lose it sometimes.

I spent several hours today, trying to track down some kind of counseling/therapy in this small town, that my insurance would cover. I finally found someone, who my bishop recommended. I got special clearance from my insurance company, since there isn't anyone in-network for a 100 miles, and will have my first appointment next week. I'm going to talk to my ob doc tomorrow about getting back on Cymbalta, since it probably won't hurt the baby at this point. I may also wait until my couseling session next week to start taking it again, since my therapist may want to prescribe something different, although I hope not, just because I already have three bottles of the stuff sitting in my medicine cabinet, totally paid for. What can I say, I'm cheap, about almost everything except scrapbooking supplies and Christmas presents.

And what's up with Jabba the Hutt? Yeah, that's pretty much how I am right now, a huge pile of useless goo. Sheesh.