Reason #1 -

Reason #2 –

(in chocolate brown, though)

I did this because neither pair of shoes is reaching their full potential underneath of jeans. Bear with me. I tried to put them on the outside of a pair of jeans I already own, but they didn’t look right. I chose the narrowest leg I could find (which, incidentally, is somewhere between a boot cut and a wide leg) and it looks silly when you tuck the jeans inside of them. Baggy, almost.

So I bought straight leg jeans. In the same size as all of my other jeans.

I can’t fit them over my butt.

Seriously folks, it’s impossible. When I initially tried and failed, I thought to myself, “Self, surely they sent you the wrong size, there’s no way a size 8 10 12 is too small. I proceeded to check the tag, and what to my depressed eyes did appear but a 12- (extra long, for which I would like to give an extra ‘atta boy to the folks at American Eagle Outfitters. Sometimes, long is just too short) and then I knew.

When they say “straight leg”, what is actually written there, between the lines, is in fact “straight body”. These jeans should come with a warning label. Warning: Do not try on these jeans if you already think you need to lose weight, have just been broken up with, recently (within the last decade) ate dinner, or if you’re not built like Cameron Diaz. Failure to follow these instructions could result in post traumatic stress disorder.

I think I’m going to start hanging pictures of Cameron around my room for inspiration. And have the jeans framed and hung on my wall. If I didn’t have enough motivation to get into shape before, it was just shipped to me via UPS.

What can Brown do for you?

I’ll start with the obvious.

You took my husband away from me after we had only been married a year. I’m sure that somewhere out there, there is a couple who were separated the day after they got married, and while I’m sympathetic, let’s be honest, I’m a little more concerned with my own marital well being. When my husband and I had our 2 year anniversary earlier this month, we were not together to celebrate it, and now we’re getting to the point where my husband will have been away for half of our entire marriage. I know that the divorce rate in the military is some astronomically high number, but my husband and I actually like each other, and while I’m certain that you’re more than willing to change this, I’d like to keep it the same.

Moving on.

I’m sure you’re aware of the current “dip” in the real estate market. I know this is super-sucky for current homeowners who are trying to ditch their current digs to move up in the world, but for first-time home-buyers, this market is like heaven on earth. My husband and I, upon his return, will be first-time-home-buyers. I know you’re wondering why I’m complaining. I’m not done. Y’see, as it turns out, when you took my husband away from me, he was seconds away from receiving a job offer in a field in which he wants to work. However, he didn’t take it because you were taking him away and so therefore, he is stuck in the same civilian job he had that he hates which pays him half of what you’re paying (at least you’ve managed to get one thing right!) him and incidentally what he should be making in a regular civilian job. This means that upon his return home, he’ll have to start the job hunt/apply all over again in this same field. A field which is hard to just jump into. A field that takes about a year and a half-ish from initial application submission to hire. Ergo, we will not be able to take advantage of this terrible real estate market without a decent paying job. So, we’d love to have you over for dinner at our shack once the market inevitably climbs out of this pit of despair at the precise moment my husband gets hired for his perfect civilian job.

Almost finished.

Now, it seems that you’ve managed to sink your nasty claws into my little brother. He joined the Navy and soon, you will be taking him away from me for 4 very long years. Four years in which there will be Thanksgivings and Christmases, summer vacations and maybe, just maybe, the birth(s) of 1 (or more?) niece(s)/nephew(s). You managed to promise him everything but Donald Trump’s fortune to join, and I’m here to tell you that if you even think about reneging on any of these promises, I will go all Cindy Sheehan on you, ya hear?

By the way, since you now have my husband and my brother, you’re not getting anyone else. Not one more person. Not a cousin, a nephew, or a son. And you’re certainly not going to be getting my other little brother. I don’t care if he wants to be a marine. He can just keep playing football, it’s kind of the same, right?

Love,
Me

P.S. Oh! And thanks for possibly letting my hubby come home a little earlier than planned. You know, gotta mix a little good in with the bad!

Cashier: Do you have your WIC card?

Me: What?

C: If you have your WIC card you can get your formula for free.

Me: I make too much money to qualify for WIC.

C: Oh okay.

Later on as I am riding back to my friends house I got to thinking. Do I look poor? Then we both enjoyed a good laugh at that WTF moment in the Ghetto-Mart.

Next day, I went to have my blood work done for the Diabetes Center. Please note Diabetes Center.

Lab Tech: Why are you bouncing that baby?

Me: Just ’cause.

LT: Well stop it. If you keep doing that she won’t understand the difference when you do it when she is upset.

She rambled on more about this topic and then stopped. Okay as unwanted as her advice is I can see her logic.

A few seconds later:

LT: Do you have diabetes?

Me: I had Type 2 before I was pregnant and now they are telling me that I am in a pre-diabetic state.

LT: That’s weird, I have never heard of that

LT: Let me tell you a secret

Me: (Oh dear Lord what now) What’s that

LT: Gastric bypass cures diabetes

Me: Oh (Thinking to myself no she didn’t)

LT: My sister had it and girl let me tell you she is so skinny and she is a baby making machine!

Me: Good for her

LT: You should get it, insurance will pay for it just like that (snaps fingers)

Me: Oh, hmm (How freaking rude!)

LT: My sister she so fertile she had to terminate three of her pregnancies, she just kept getting pregnant and finally they told her she had to get her tubes tied.

Me: Mmm

What the heck! I do not want to hear about your sister’s abortion, I do not want to hear about her diabetes and I don’t want your skinny ass telling me to get Gastric Bypass! Mind your own business!

She also informed me that she knows how hard it is to lose weight because she has been trying very hard to lose ten pounds since last year and she just can’t seem to do it. “She is just not movitvated enough to get up and exercise.”

I wanted to tell her that is so sad for her it must be hard to be a size four and ten pounds over weight, how does she possibly manage to get out of bed every morning.

But I didn’t and I never do say anything rude back to people even when they are rude to me. I guess my parents raised me better than that.

I too, made similar preparations 2 years ago (my anniversary was September 2) and even now, i can remember the “day of” jitters as I embarked upon a brand new chapter in my life. I couldn’t wait.

But,  we overlooked one tiny detail didn’t we? While we were discussing cakes and flowers, and colors and dresses, and even the moment when we finally decided on a date, we overlooked the most important of details; the mother of them all – the weather.

I know what you non-September brides are thinking. “You can’t predict the weather.” you say “It’s all chance – anyone could have a rainy wedding day!” To a certain extent, you’re right. We certainly cannot predict the weather and anyone could have a rainy wedding day.

But we September brides aren’t that fortunate. No, in fact we would kill for a rainy wedding day.

Because mother nature only bestows a certain special gift on September brides – the hurricane.

This year, it’s name is Hanna. Today, brides all over the East Coast are scratching the name Hanna (and different versions thereof) off of there “potential baby names” list just as I did with Ernesto 2 years ago. (Okay, Ernesto was never actually on my list, but still)

She’s ruining all of your plans – outside photos, carriage rides, hair that doesn’t frizz – it’s all gone now. Your plans have had to change at a moments notice.

I can sympathize. I too had plans that fell through. My reception was here and should have looked like this or even this. Instead, we had closed tents and gale force winds.

But it’s ok, because at the end of the day, you’re still married to your prince and one day, you’ll be able to look back on this day and laugh.

Right now? Right now, some stupid insanely insensitive bridesmaid/family member/guest is reminding you that it’s a sign of good luck to have rain on your wedding day, and you’re trying not to cry. Do me a favor will you? Punch them square in the face, once for yourself, and then once for me because I didn’t and I have lived to regret that day. Then, fly off to your honeymoon and drink a margarita for the both of us, we deserve it.

I am surprisingly cool, calm, and collected. Don’t get me wrong, I miss him to death, but it seems more manageable this time. Like, when people ask me how I’m doing, and I say “Good!”, I’m actually telling the truth.

I am good. Not great, not bad, but good. I can deal with good. Good is a nice break from ‘on the edge of my emotional cliff’. It’s refreshing. I almost feel like I did BD (that’s before-deployment for all of you non military wives). I miss him; I want him to come home, but I don’t feel as desperate as I did before he came home on leave.

I think I can’t handle these last 2 and a half months. Let’s just cross our fingers and say all kinds of prayers that this isn’t the calm before the nervous breakdown.

Something (I’m going to go with God on this one) has made me feel even more than normal that I need to go, like right this instant drive in the car and get your behind in a pew. I think this Sunday just might be the day for me.

I am having a HORRENDOUS month this past month and I really got to my wits end last week after work when I cried as soon as I sat down in my car and then the whole way home and even then for like the rest of the night. I know craziness. But it was all for a good reason that I would rather not discuss right now because I don’t know how this will all pan out in the end. But it isn’t just work I suppose it feels like everything as of late and I swear if I get another medical bill in the mail I just may scream! Every time I think I am going to get one paid off I get another one. It’s craziness! So I guess that might also explain why I haven’t been able to blog quite as much as normal.

But seriously, I am going to church this Sunday! I have to, my heart needs it more than ever!

Please pray for me! (Seriously)

Around midnight last night I was just getting out of the shower and straightening around the house and the phone rings,

Mom: Did your father cook something and burn it?

Me: I don’t know I haven’t gone down there tonight.

Mom: Well it smells like burnt garlic or something, it’s horrible. Can you come over and smell, I’ll come down and watch the baby.

Me: Okay

So I finish up drying and putting away the dishes and Mom comes in.

Me: Oh my God, you smell like skunk!

Mom: Do I?

Me: Yes, all I smell is skunk.

Mom: Well can you go down there and smell with an open mind?

So I traipse down the street in my pajamas to go and smell what the smell is in my mom’s house. As I am walking down, Jack the Cat jumps out of nowhere and tries to kill me. Okay he didn’t try to kill me but he scared the hell out of me. Jack and I continued our journey to my parents together. I get to the end of the driveway and I can smell the skunk, I thought to myself this will not end well. So I got to the front door and was expecting a skunk to jump out at me at any moment, that’s how potent it was. I open the door, the cat flies in the house and the smell of skunk hits me in the face like a ton of bricks. It was almost as bad as pepper spray. I walk immediately to Bo’s room and he is right there ready to greet me. I said Bo-dy and gave him a good whiff! Phh! That is the source of the problem!

I made a u-turn and hauled my butt back home. I told my mom:

It’s Bo, he got skunked and carried the smell in with him!

Mom: Eww, now you smell like skunk!

Me: You better go home and wash the dog(s) and start scrubbing the floors.

Mom: Expletive Dog, expletive, expletive.

Me: I didn’t see a skunk carcass so you might want to check to see where that is.

Mom: I swear to God if a skunk jumps out at me I am going to beat that dog over the head with it!

So needless to say, I took shower number two for the night and then washed my clothes so that the skunk smell was not stinking up my house. My poor mom went home and washed the dog and everything he touched and don’t you know the next morning it still smelled horrible!

We all went to Denny’s the next day and afterwards I went home and my parents went home to continue the scrubbing. Later that night I went down to get something from my mom’s house and it didn’t smell near as bad. It was just a faint odor of skunk. By Sunday it should be completely gone.

As a background on the dogs, the are kept seperate, they are chow-chow’s and fight something horrible if they get together. One is kept in one room and the other is kept in it’s own room. They both have access to the backyard through sliding glass doors. The backyard is separated so that they can not get together out there. Typically there doors are left open all the time. My mom works second shift and my dad is usually travelling with work. My mom went to work yesterday and my dad came home before he had to go to work late that friday night. Well my father in all of his brilliance leaves the sliders open and proceeds to go to work. Therefore Bo gladly went out, fought or killed a skunk and then proceeded to drag the stench in with him because no one was there to witness the evening events. So my mom after working all night comes home to find skunk-a-pa-looza in her house. Fun times!

This is the second time this dog had done this, but last time he killed the skunk.

Finally I was called back to the exam room and the doctor is asking me a ton of questions. He seemed puzzled as to why my nose was bleeding so much. Then he does my exam and checks ears and everything. He FINALLY gets to the right nostril which had been giving me all the trouble and like a kid in a candy store he proclaimed, “I see it, there it is right there!” He then proceeded to have my mother come over and look in my nostril so that she could also see the issue. Apparently it was just a very small ruptured blood vessel but every time it was irritated it would bleed… like crazy!

 He stuffed a cotton swab of lidocain up my nose which of course angered the nasal blood vessel god and caused it to bleed. Then he got out silver nitrate and started to cauterize my nose with it. Then after all of this nasal irritation he has nerve enough to tell me, “Do not blow your nose for at least a week or you will dislodge the scab and you’ll have to do this all over again.” WTF!

After he messed with my nostril, if ever in my life I needed to blow my nose it was then. So of course I went to the bathroom and blew my nose. I didn’t bleed so decided I could live with the rest of the irritation in my nose until a week passed.

I will say this, the whole process made my nostril extremely itchy on the inside and I was about to go mad sitting at my desk the rest of that day.

So far it seems to have worked well, I have not had a nose bleed since Thursday. The real test will be when it is healed and I can finally blow my nose again! Muhuwahaha!

So about three managers asked my if I was okay and everything. One of the managers had asked me if I have seen an Ear Nose and Throat doctor about it. Well of course I haven’t even though someone will tell me to go like everytime my nose bleeds at work.

So I decide the random bleeding was the last straw. I finally called and am going to “get my nose fixed” on Thursday! YAY!

I don’t know why I haven’t gone yet but enough is enough. My nose bleeds at work and I’m certain these people are hoping I don’t have AIDS or anything contagious. Maybe I should put a Bio-Hazard warning across my cube!

Wish me luck, I’m a little nervous about the prospect of having my nose cauterized!

I do not like flying (which, they tell me, is the only possible way of getting there).

I do not like bugs (which I hear there is an abundance of).

I do not like being reminded of the fact that we are the most spoiled nation on the face of this planet (which I hear is unavoidable).

I do like challenging myself. And expecting the unexpected. And being totally in the grip of my Lord’s hands (ok, I don’t always enjoy that, it means I’m not in control, but I like it right now). And thinking about someone besides myself, and what struggles I’m going through.

So I guess I’m looking forward to this.

Except for the flying. I hate flying.

I’m assuming that I am going through some hormonal change to add to the guilt of no longer breast feeding. I never thought it would be so hard. Everyone says you have no problem nursing and I think that is a bunch of crap. It rates right up there with having no problem getting pregnant! Ha!

I guess I better hit the hay, I have a long day of work ahead of me.

She wants to be held straight up you can not lay her down and hold her like a baby. She even tries to sit up and suck from the bottle!

She started rolling a few weeks ago and is now a rolly-caterpillar! This morning I went in her room to check on her and she was sleeping on her belly with her face buried in her crib mattress. Visions of suffocation flashed in my head until I touched her and she moved her legs, I think she is trying to give me a heart-attack!

We started giving her cereal in a bottle and we will attempt to feed her with a spoon tonight, this should prove interesting.

I took her bumper off the other day and she repeatedly got her leg stuck in the bars of her crib so I put the bumper back on. We were afraid she would smother on the bumper now that she rolls around like a wild woman but she could smother once she gets her leg caught just as easily in my opinion. So against Tom’s wishes I put the bumper back on.

The poor little thing is teething she started that a few weeks ago. It started out not very noticeable but now she is constantly trying to chew something and drooling like crazy so hopefully we will see a tooth soon! I told my niece that baby Hannah was teething and she walked over and practically ripped her mouth off trying to look inside. I told her no, you can’t do that, you might hurt her! She replied, Well I want to see it! Touche!

Tom has lost 100 pounds, yes 100 pounds! Before we were equally fat together and maybe that is why I am now so uncomfortable in my skin anymore.

Yesterday we went to an Orioles game. I am about to take Tom’s picture and an older gentleman offers to take the picture for me so we can both be in it. OMG! I looked at the picture afterwards and I look like an elephant. My face is enormous! I mean to tell you huge! That rattled my cage and I kept thinking back to that picture. Then the game ended and we began our trek four blocks back to where the car is parked. I couldn’t keep up with Tom at all. My shorts were riding up while I walked, my flip-flops were slipping off my feet and Tom acts like we are in a marathon. He keeps yelling, “Hurry up, you need to keep up, blah, blah, blah!” I tried to explain I couldn’t walk as fast as him but he didn’t want to hear it, he couldn’t understand how my cavs could be hurting already. Please keep in mind that we were walking up hills and everything it’s not like it was a flat surface. So about a block from the parking garage my legs felt like one big cramp. I started crying, of course, it was so embarrassing to me that I couldn’t keep pace with Tom and that he kept hurrying me along.

It doesn’t help either that like every weekend one if not both of my parents will say “You need to follow Tom’s lead, look how good he’s doing!” As to which I am perfectly aware of what Tom is doing as I used to do the same thing and I am the one who taught him the diet before I became pregnant.

So starting today and am going back into weight loss mode. No more junk of any kind. I am going to start writing down everything I eat and make myself keep count of what I am putting in my mouth. Hopefully this will help my self esteem that has dwindled down into nothing.

I have since gotten over that, Tom was right I have to work so I need to make the best of it and try to get the day to pass fast so I can come home to them. It would probably be harder on me if she was in daycare but Tom is watching her so I don’t worry quite so much.

We already have a pretty good morning routine going on!

It is amazing what a child does to your brain, I think about her constantly. Lately when people talk to me I don’t always pay attention to what there saying because I am so consumed with my own thoughts, it’s craziness!

Our Italy vacation is being post-poned until early next May, we want to be able to save a good chunk of money to do everything we want to do and stay longer than a week. To top it off we are going to bring Hannah so that just makes it better! Tom and I really want to do family vacations, when we where growing up my parents took my brother and I on every vacation, it didn’t matter if it was the Bahamas or the local beach. I want to be the same way with my child(ren). This year will be Hannie’s first vacation, we are going to head to Missouri for the fourth of July/family reunion. I am super excited! More and more as I get older I realize how much I really, really, really miss my family. Hopefully we will be able to visit Missouri every other year so that she can know her family too.

Yesterday I took the plunge and finally got my hair highlighted after like three years of not doing it! It looks really good, at least that’s what everyone tells me.

The Hair:

Obviously, this man is not my wonderful husband. I decided to participate in Throwback Thursday (for the first time ever!) because it amazes me how much my life has changed since High School. Just sixyears ago. Y’see, I thought for sure that I was going to marry the man in this picture, but I didn’t. (Much to the apparent chagrin of one Mr. Bitler) And I thought, for kicks and shiggles, that I would do a “Top Ten” list of my own. So, I give you;

The (top, because there are many more than are listed here) Ten Things I learned from my Highschool Prom date (my then boyfriend):

10. Pretty does not mean perfect. (except of course in my case)

9. Women should not pursue men. It’s their job, and they’ve also been cursed with the desire to let the woman have her “reign” over them, and so if you do the pursuing, you’re also giving them a good reason to let you do all of the courting and wooing too. Which leads me to….

8. If you pay for his meals, not only does he not owe you that money, but why should he pay for yours if you’re so willing to fork over the cash?

7. Your significant other should want to be around you all of the time.

6. 2nd chances should be just that. Second chances, not 3rd or 4th or 5th……

5. No man’s feet deserve to be graveled at. NONE. (I’m speaking figuratively here, please do not think that I actually graveled at his feet)

4. If he says he’s not sure about you/his feelings for you/your relationship…..GET OUT. He knows you’re week and will settle for 2nd best, so he has no reason to give 100% of himself to you. He will be looking out for someone better than you.

3. There is no one better than you. It’s a shame that he doesn’t see it, but that’s his loss; don’t spend your whole life trying to make him realize that you are the best. He should be opening your door and buying you flowers and such. Unfortunately, he’ll only get it after it’s too late.

2. If NONE of your friends/family think he’s right for you, THEY’RE RIGHT!

And the number ONE thing that I learned from my Highschool Prom date is….

1. I cannot change people, only God can. No matter how much sweeter I wanted him to be, or more committed, or more romantic, or more whatever…….he wasn’t. And I spent far too much of my time agonizing over it. Wasted time. Time I could have spent perfecting my relationship with God, preparing myself for the man who he really wanted me to spend my life with.

I’m sure to some of you I sound bitter, or angry, but I can assure you that those feelings are only toward myself, for allowing it to happen. We were young (remember? highschool) but I had an adult mentality with relationships and wanted far more from him (emotionally) than he was ready to give.

I’m not making excuses for him, it’s true. I think of adult men who act that way much differently; they need to grow up. We were just kids and I thank God every day that he was in my life for 2 reasons.

-As a friend, he was awesome and we really did have some good times together.

-I have an appreciation for my Husbandthat I don’t think I would have otherwise. My husbandeven gets the little things right; He opens doors, surprises me with cards and flowers, and treats me like the lady (or princess, as these terms are interchangable) that I am. I love him so much, and in looking back, don’t think that I would have changed the course of things even if I could.

Or really, 3 days.

We have some friends who have 5 children (one is away in the Navy) who went to Vegas* and needed someone to watch their children/house/dogs for a couple of days. This couple did a lot for Husband and I in our dating days, and so when the wife called me up to ask if I would be up to the task of watching her kiddos, I couldn’t have said yes quick enough. Plus, her kids are pretty awesome, so that helps in the decision-making process. This isn’t, however, something I would do for just anyone. Four kids is a big responsibility.

So Monday, in addition to having the four kids for the day (when they weren’t in school), I also had my regular “nanny” responsibility, which includes the 2 year old and 3 year old I’ve mentioned here before. Six children. Four of which are under the age of five. (Note to self: have someone shoot you if you ever have quadruplets.) And it was raining. (Note to self: check the weather report before you agree to house/baby/dog sit again.) Needless to say, between feeding the “four under five” lunch, running the twins to pre-school, going to Wal-Mart, trying to squeeze a nap in for my “nanny” kids, picking all four back up from school, all the while in a conversion van,(Note to self: as practical as they seem, they are never cool, never, please don’t every buy one. Remember that you’d rather carry six children on your back than drive one of these things.) then on to after-school snack, homework, and dinner, I was pretty excited to drive 45 minutes to school to have some adult time. Even though I was being lectured the whole time. (Haha, I made a funny!)

Today was a little less hectic (surprisingly) since I had work and the twins didn’t have preschool and their Aunt watched them until I got off of work. The twins, I mean, the older 2 have school all day every day. Although I still had to cart them home, help with homework, do my own homework and then turn around a take a final (which I think I did alright on).

Tomorrow is the last day I’ll have them. It will resemble today, except that I don’t have class and so I can spend my last night with them, well, with them.

As much as I’ve enjoyed this experience, I gotta tell ya, it is the most effective form of birth control I’ve met yet (As a side note, I really think that condoms are the least effective. Not necessarily because they don’t work, but because they’re not so much fun to use, if you catch my drift. I mean, I hate using them, and so I prefer not to, and I do believe that that is how babies are born. Anyway.). Don’t get me wrong, I can’t wait to be a mom; I’d jump at the chance if my husband were here and we had a house to actually put a child in; but I would never want to be thrust into it full force, right off the bat. (Just so you know, I do know that that’s not how it usually happens, I’m just saying)

So that’s my day in the life. I hope you’ve enjoyed it, and I’m sure all you moms out there are like yeah, and? But I’m here to tell you that I started with none and did a pretty darn good job with four, by myself for 4-ish days. Accident free. I think that qualifies me for a medal, no?

*Um, they’re not like party people, the husband actually had a conference there** and the wife was allowed to come along for the ride.

**I’m not sure why anyone would schedule a conference in Vegas if they actually want to get anything accomplished.

I am really quite mind boggled as to why my one boob will not cooperate I do everything the same as I did on the other side, I have even tried a few different things but nothing happens.

Clearly I am going to need some sort of assistance from my mother in this matter. Or at least she can see that I am not crazy if it doesn’t work while she is around!

My Grandmother who is clearly off her rocker came up with this lovely-ness this week while talking to my mom: “I just don’t know about this breastfeeding, I could never do it with yuns.” (Referring to my mom, aunt and uncle.) Then are you ready for this? “It must be because you and Heather have big nipples.”

Excuse ME!?

When my mom told me this I was really quite shocked, then I wonder how she would ever possibly know what my nipple looked like. Then I laughed, because she is old and senile. God bless her but she is coming up with the craziest things lately. Grandma would really be a post all to herself, because ever since Grandpa died so has her mind and at times it is extremely frustrating to deal with her.

If anyone has any pumping tips please feel free to leave them.

I decided long ago that birth control was the devil and screwed my body up. No doctor has ever given me reason to think this but I do. I haven’t been on birth control now for five years. (Wow as a side note, I never stopped to realize I haven’t taken birth control for five years, that is a long time!) I stopped taking it a year before I got married, the year I found out I had PCOS. Taking birth control after learning I had PCOS seemed pointless to me so I just stopped taking it.

But, since I did somehow manage by the grace of God to get knocked up without the use of fertility drugs, I better do something to prevent a possible second pregnancy right away.

With that being said I resigned myself to the fact that *gasp*condoms would need to be used. Gross. I’ve never been a big fan of condoms and after talking it over with a girlfriend she agreed that she also hated them, which oddly enough made me feel a lot better. So I drug myself to the drug store, baby in tow, and headed towards the condom aisle. For a second I felt like a high school-er sneaking off to buy condoms. I probably stood there a good fifteen minutes staring at all the different varieties. It was a tad overwhelming. I finally made my selection and sat the evil condoms in the cart, next to Hannah. I laughed at the irony of that situation, me with a baby and who’d have thunk I now have to use condoms (you know, just in case. HA!).

I guess it is better to be safe than sorry, I am all for having more kids but I would just like to wait until Hannah is bigger, like two years old bigger. Maybe God will bless us with more children, maybe He won’t. But I don’t want to be that person, you know the one that gets pregnant as soon as she has her baby. That my friends would be so not cool!

We are going to put our house on the market this week. Monday I plan on calling my realtor and get this ball rolling.

The “new house” is pretty much done, the entry and the family room are the last two rooms that need completed and then we will be all set to move in. So needless to say I will also start packing things this week.

I really feel like I have no time to do anything, the baby still likes to eat every two hours. So that only leaves about an hour/hour and a half to do anything before it is time to feed her once again. As I am typing it is coming up on time to feed her once again.

Well I better go do something before I run out of time.

Ok, So, I figured that the masses (or really just you DDTM, Lemons, girlymama, Em, Rachel, Ellen, Lynn, and you too Robyn! Hey, that’s eight readers! Go me!) would want to know what the heck I was talking about in this post when I mentioned infertility.

So I’ll tell you. But I’m warning you, there’s talk of menstrual cycles and ovaries and the like. It won’t be pretty.

Ok, so some history.

You know, if you’re going to read this it may be awkward the next time we see one another. I mean really. I’m going to use the word period, and not in reference to that cute little dot-thing that ends a sentence. Here’s your chance to back out. I’m just sayin’.

Back to the history.

The period. That lovely little week-long torture session that reminds us that we are, in fact, females just in case we had forgotten during the other 23 blissfully blood-free days in the month.

The cool thing? I have never gotten one regularly. I mean like, monthly. Sometimes I would skip months. I gotta tell you though friends, I was never worried. Seriously. Some people were all “Oh, you really should mention that to your Doctor.” or “That’s just not normal, maybe you should get that checked out.” But I’m here to tell you that those little “moments of concern” on the part of every other female were really moments of JEALOUSY. Don’t try to deny it. You would have been/are too.

So anyway, I was never concerned.

And so, the week before my husband left in November, I got my period (see why I don’t miss it? That was really not a great going-away present). And I was due to get it again upon his return in December around Christmas time (you know, if I was on a normal 28-day cycle) but I didn’t! Yay unregularness that is my female reproductive system!

But then, I didn’t get it in January either, and I was all “Oh my word am I pregnant?! How terrible would that be with my husband deployed? How will I ever handle this?! Oh the humanity!” And then I took a pregnancy test because what other explanation could there possibly be for all of that emotion? (The correct answer to that question is “Um, that your husband was just deployed to a foreign land for a year.” But you know, whatever.)

So it came back negative, and I’m all “Whew, that was close.” But some genius girl in one of my classes said something like “Oh, that doesn’t mean anything, my pregnancy tests came back negative with both of my sons.” So, I’m like whatever, that’s just you. (What I really thought was “Who sells those things anyway? What’s the purpose if they’re not accurate?!”) And when I didn’t get my period on the day (and subsequent days) in February that I was supposed to, I figured that was maybe the time I should go visit the Doctor that no female enjoys visiting.

So I did, and I ran over my symptoms with her and she was like “Well, it sounds to me like your ovaries are Polycystic.” And I mean to tell you that I had a stroke of some sort right in her office because I know what that means because my best friend has that and I learned a lot about it in her early days of figuring it all out. And she must have seen my face drop to the floor, because all of a sudden she tried changing her story to tell me about some other possibilities that could be causing my period to hide for three months.

But all I heard was Polycystic. It just kept ringing in my head. And aside from the fact that it affects a plethora of different things with the female body, the one fact about it that hit me the hardest was that it causes infertility in women. NOT something you want to hear when you actually want children.

Now, it is not impossible for women with PCOS to get pregnant. After all, Lemons did just have a beautiful baby girl, and my other friend who has it has four, that’s FOUR children. But still. When it seems as though all your mother had to do was just walk by your father to get pregnant, (and really, that’s how it happened anyway) then you never really think that infertility will be a blip on your radar.

I was really upset.

They sent me for blood tests and ultra-sounds and stuff to figure out what the heck is going on with me.

Incidentally, on the day they called me to tell me that I was not pregnant (it was one of the blood tests they took) I ended up getting my period. Doesn’t it figure?

So now, a month later, I went back to find out the results of all of that torture. And you wanna know the report?

Nothin’. Not a single thing is wrong. My hormones are fine, my thyroid is great, and my ovaries are cyst-free. She even said that I’m not required to go on birth-control as long as I have at least 4 periods a year. So you know what? All that worrying got me absolutely nothing.

And this is why I hate going to the Doctor. Any questions?

I have discovered that she does not like silence. So I left the TV on and she slept right through only waking to eat (which is every two hours). I am feeling very well rested today needless to say. My MIL bought her a “womb bear” that I put in the nursery at the new house so I am going to go and get that and bring it to the old house and see if she likes that just as much as the TV.  Hopefully she will like the bear and I can turn the TV off at night, I don’t normally sleep with a light or TV on so I don’t want her to get into the habit of having it on.  Wish me luck!

 She literally did not sleep a wink all night, I think she had a sensor installed on me. As soon as I had her quieted down and what appeared to be sleeping, I would put her in her bassinet and climb into my bed. At exactly fifteen minutes into me laying in my bed she would start to whimper which then turned into crying, all night. I was really ready to shoot myself when 5:00 rolled around and she still had not gone to sleep for any real amount of time.  

I know this is all normal baby stuff but it is going to take me a little bit longer to adjust. I took a fairly long nap today so hopefully if she wants to fuss all night I won’t have a nervous breakdown.

She went to the doctor’s today and gained a little bit more weight, she is at 5.12. Not quite birth weight but getting there.

hugs

sleeping in on saturday morning…..with him

long talks about absolutely nothing

long talks about everything that’s of value to us

the warm spot in the bed next to me

our own apartment

caramel eyes with flecks of green

auburn hair

that dimple

caused by the smile

that makes me smile……..

The baby has a touch of jaundice that is going away, she lost a little bit of weight since my milk took five days to come in. Now that the milk is here she is doing really good and is starting to gain some of her weight back. She weighed 5.3 on Monday and today she weighs 5.5. They would still like to see her at her birth-weight (5.15) but the doctor thinks she is doing just fine.

Here is a pic from today at the Olive Garden: