A New Year

Today is New Years Eve. I actually started working on this post well before Christmas, because I've been thinking heavily about what our new year will bring to both me & my family as well as the things that I want to accomplish. My list isn't actually very long & I suck at keeping any sort of resolution so I am avoiding that this year all together.

In reality, it's more of a reflection of where I want to be & what I want to do. Plans for what kind of person I want to be, things I want to improve on personally, and things I want to leave behind. I took 2013 pretty seriously in some personal goals -- some I achieved, some I failed -- but I want to do the same in 2014. Like I said, not as much of a list as just a general sense of feeling like I accomplished something or became a better person when this coming year ends.

Obviously, a new baby for our family will start the year off with a bang. As I am typing this, he is moving & shifting inside me, and I already find myself growing nostalgic for those moments. This is it. No more babies for us. Ending the year pregnant & hopefully starting the new year with a little one in our arms again. So there's that. I don't need to discuss the magnitude that this holds over our heads and hearts. This is, without a doubt, the largest change that will come my way this coming year, and while I am excited about what will happen, I'm also completely terrified of the same thing. I know we will make the best of it.

I also want to grow a thicker skin. I have a tendency to care too much what other people think about me. It's a HORRIBLE self-esteem issue that I have always carried with me, but this year (finally, at 33 years old!) I'm working on letting it go. I've made some cuts this past year of those who were not supportive in any aspect of my life, or who were just there, getting glimpses of what was happening without truly caring. It's frustrating to spend so much time worrying about the well-being of others when they don't share the same sentiment, and I am tired of getting my feelings hurt because those that I was reaching out to were instead being just plain awful in return. And you know what? Getting rid of them feels good. A weight off my shoulders. Knowing that there is only good in my life now is a great feeling, and I'm happy to carry that into 2014.

Along with that, I'm working to surround myself with more positive people. I can only handle the Debbie Downer attitudes for so long. I've met some wonderful people this second half of the year and built some great relationships. I need positivity and happiness in my life, especially with all the changes coming our way. I want to surround myself with good, not negative. It doesn't mean I care any less about what is happening in close friends lives, and lord knows we all have our bad days, but as someone who is working to be a more positive person overall, I need to surround myself with the same. Most of the people cut from my life this past year were some of the most negative people I have ever met, who seemed unable to find the good in their lives, even though everybody else could see it. People who couldn't appreciate even the smallest GOOD thing happening to them. 

Aside from personal feelings & such (I know, I know), we have a very big move happening this year. I haven't mentioned where yet because I don't want to jinx it, but I have mentioned it in small doses here or there in other places. It's big. Huge. Monumental. A move that is going to provide our family with adventures that most people only dream of. As soon as thing are a little more official (hopefully in the next week or two), I will be shouting it from the rooftops, but there is so much excitement in our family about the opportunities that will be provided to us in our new location. All I can say is that the trade off for not going to Georgia has been very, very good. I cannot WAIT to share all the new adventures that we will be taking part of. I promise you won't want to miss it.

Allllll of that aside, personal feelings and positivity and all the zen feelings in the world, there are of course other things I want to focus on.  More drawing. More photography. Better myself at both. More time with me and my husband alone, without kids in tow. Decluttering of our house and living a more minimalist lifestyle. Better financial budgeting for our family. More time for MYSELF so that I don't lose who I am and what I want to do. And overall, being HAPPIER with the choices that I have made in my life.

There definitely isn't a manual on how to achieve all of these, but lord knows I'm going to try my hardest. All in all, I just want to be a better, happier person who surrounds herself with happier people, who challenge me, push me, love life and appreciate the things that have been given and provided for them. Less negativity. More awesomness.

Happy New Year, friends!

The Closing of Chapters

With the impending arrival of this second little bean of ours, there has been a lot on my mind about what comes next for me & my husband. Closing one chapter of our lives and opening a giant new one sits at the forefront, with a lot of other chapters mixed in.This one in particular, our TTC journey, comes with a lot of emotion. I've written and re-written this post probably ten times over the past month or so, never really feeling like I can find the right words to express the emotion that I feel. I most likely won't ever fully be able to convey what's in my heart, but with some encouragement from others, I'm putting this out there anyways, the best that I can.

We decided long ago that this it for us. No more trying for future babies.  In fact, this was sort of a decision that we made prior to even OFFICIALLY trying for baby number two. We had always decided that once Lucas hit one year, we would discuss the possibility of a second. At the time, we were on orders to move to Georgia by the summer, and with M's training schedule prior to our move, we had an extremely limited number of chances IF we chose to go down the IUI route again with our current RE. Two, MAYBE three. So we decided to take the plunge with the mindset that if it worked, it worked, and if didn't, well, that was it for us. We didn't want to continue treatment after we moved, and we had been blessed with such an amazing kid with Lucas. If fate worked out differently in the future, so be it, but after those couple of tries, we wouldn't push it any further. 

Cue IUI 2.0 working the first time. You all know how grateful I am for that, and you can easily skim back through my blog to read about it. But here we are -- 34 weeks pregnant with baby number two and growing closer and closer to the official end of THIS particular chapter.  I'm not going to lie. It's weird. No more stressing over whether or not it will happen on it's own, or if calling the RE is the next logical step. No more mass bulk purchases of pregnancy tests or tears because things aren't going the way I want them to. There is a lot of emotion in these last six weeks, so much that I can't convey it all in one post. But we are still here. 

Finished, after six years. But at peace.

I'm not naive enough to think that something couldn't happen in the next six weeks, or post-delivery, or even five or ten years down the road. I've seen enough from friends, and from the infertility community, to know that it's not always bliss and happiness. Bad things happen to really, really good people. Amazing people. People who deserve nothing but the best but end up in the worst possible situations. I hope to god that we are not those people, but I know it happens. Naive, I am most definitely not.

But with the end of this chapter comes, for me, a big sigh of relief, so to speak. Part of the "weird" in my emotion is that it's not necessarily all bad. It took a lot to get here, and part of me is sort of glad to leave it all behind. There are many in the infertility community who are angry -- rightfully so, and for so many reasons. Even after giving birth, or adopting, or becoming a parent in whatever way it happens, there is a level of anger that doesn't go away. And why should it? Their journeys have been long & painful. That's not something that you forget in an instant, or for some, ever. But their journeys are just that, THEIRS. Mine is mine. Similar or not, we all handle things differently. I have seen women who have had the same treatment as me, or very close to, end with babies in their arms & they are still angry. I've seen others who have gone through SO MUCH MORE walk away with a smile on their face & peace with what life dealt them. We are all different, and react differently. I made the choice a long time ago to not let the resentment rule me, no matter what happened. Don't get me wrong -- there was a time when it absolutely did. That resentment hurt me in a lot of ways. It's the same resentment & anger that made me cry for two days when my best friend of 20 years told me she was pregnant. Or what made me dread any pregnancy announcement from ANYONE, regardless of their journey. It's what sent me into an awful depression after my miscarriage. But eventually, it just wasn't worth it to me.

So the other part of this chapter is sort of saying goodbye to the infertility community. There was a time when it was so, so good to me, but the past couple of years hasn't been all rainbows and flowers. I am forever grateful for the amazing friendship that this journey has brought me, and while I don't understand not being able to move forward (same as I am sure they cannot understand why I don't hold onto the resentment), or why they hold onto that anger, I try to remain as positive and supportive as I can to those who want it. Not everybody does, and that's fine. I've reached out as long as I could, and pulled away when I realized it was needed, when support wasn't wanted. Sadly, this has meant being abandoned by most of the IF community, but there are a small few who welcome me & support me & in return, I will gladly give all the love & support that I can to them as well. These people have become AMAZING friends, whether I have met them in real life or not, and are people that I will cherish forever. I am walking away from all of this with some really great people beside me, and if that's how I leave the infertility community (or how the infertility community leaves me), then I am happy & content with that. Because I mean what I say -- these people, they know who they are, may be a small few, but have large hearts & I will forever be grateful to them for what they have given me.

I am ok with this. It has taken some time to put the hurt behind me -- the unfollows, blocks, deletions, being talked about behind my back by people that I thought were friends, the flat out being ignored when offering support -- it stung. And sometimes still does. But like I said, the GOOD that is following me is worth so much more than all the crap that came my way. I look forward to the post-IF life, and am so full of love for the ones who have stuck by me.

Closing these chapters, whatever the end result may be, is just what we need to do. I can't be angry. I don't want to be angry. Or bitter. Or resentful. Even if Lucas was our ONLY child, I am confident this would still be my course because even after Lucas, even before the talk of number two, I still felt this way. Maybe that's why this decision comes with so much peace & ease for both me & M. I'm grateful for what my journey taught me, the people it introduced me to, the ones who became friends, and I will admit, even for the ugly. In fact, even through the ugly M & I were able to strengthen our marriage. We were able to travel & meet new people. We lived, despite not necessarily wanting to. There was good inside all of the bad.

I want to move forward. I want to be happy. I am happy. I won't ever forget, but I don't want to dwell, either.There are still so many thoughts running through my head, but I think this is the best I can do at getting them all down. I hope this makes sense.

I can't wait for the things to come. I don't know what the future will hold, but I'm excited for this next chapter of our lives regardless.

Boring Days & Plans for Fun

So, I had all these grand plans of writing more often now that I was home, but I am finding that our days -- at least for now -- are a little mundane. 

We get up. We eat some breakfast. We go to the park or visit friends that are also home. Snack time. Nap time. Then trying to fill the afternoon with activities indoors because it's still too freaking hot to go outside late in the day (seriously. 90 degrees still. WHERE IS FALL?) There really isn't much to talk about just yet. 

During nap time, I try my best to get some things done around the house. My goal this first week was to get my house as clean as possible, and we seem to be moving on a one room a day plan. My toddler, he keeps me busy and as much as I wish accomplishing more during the day was possible, it's just not with him in tow. i love this kid, but man -- he is always on the move. And blogging? Forget about it. At least on a regular basis until I get more on a schedule. 

I am sure there are more things to do around town that wouldn't involve the blazing heat. In fact, I KNOW there are. But I'm a recluse. If it was up to me, we would never leave the house. Ever! With us moving next year, I don't really want to make new friends. I'm happy with the couple that I have that are at home during the day (hi ladies!) and I have found that if we go to the park early enough, nobody else is there. The process that is involved with making new friends at this age is long and tedious & I am just not interested (hi, can we say lone wolf?) 

But, that is not what is best for Lucas. He needs to be around other kids, at least a couple times a week so that he knows he's not the only one. Eighteen months, I'm finding, is a difficult age. There are things we need to work on, like sharing and how to play with other children, that we can't do by ourselves. 

So, I'm trying to find a way to get out of my shell. To not be such an introverted recluse. To find a balance of making myself comfortable (hello couch & yoga pants!) while also making sure that Lucas benefits from my time at home with him. 

Monday I am signing him up for swim lessons. This is something that I have wanted to do with him for a very long time, but there is only one place here in town (a town of 100,000 people) that offered weekends classes. ONE weekend class, to be exact, and it always filled up before I got a chance to sign him up when I was working. But now that I am home, I can take advantage, hopefully, of the week day classes. This will be twice a week & will tucker him out plenty during the day, while also providing him with some outside of the home activities! We are also looking into Story Time at the local library, as well as POSSIBLY some little gym type classes (which are apparently ridiculously expensive. We will see if we can swing it on one budget). Of course there is the playground as well as the occasional play date. 

I know that once this baby arrives around New Year, our time will be a little more limited as we adjust to the new arrival as well as preparing for our impending move. (I REALLY wish I could tell you where we are going! If I have told you ... Shhhh! In time, people. In time!) So it's important to me to take full advantage of this time with Lucas while I have it, no matter how uncomfortable it makes me in the process. 

Staying at Home: Day One

I have been home approximately 12 hours from a two week trip to Seattle. I have so many things to write about & talk about & discuss & photos to share ... my head is spinning with things to write about. 

But today also marks kind of a big day for me, personally. 

It's kind of, technically (or so I'm counting it) my first day with the Stay At Home Mom title. 

Whoa. 

I had one day post-work before we flew to Seattle, but it was so jam packed with getting ready for our trip & running errands that it didn't really set in. Our two week trip was a vacation -- one that would have been taken had I had a job or not. So today, now that we are home, is just sort of unreal. Twelve hours in and I already feel lazy, like I should be cleaning & cooking & maintaining a home instaed of doing exactly what I have been doing -- sitting on the couch watching Project Runway episodes sitting in my DVR while Lucas plays contently by himself. 

Granted, I am exhausted. It was well after midnight by the time I got myself to bed, and the battle of being over-tired beat me making sleep very shitty. If I could drink coffee all day right now, today would be that day. But instead I'm sitting here in yoga pants & a tshirt with my hair thrown up while Lucas naps instead of being productive. 

Days won't always be like this -- I know this. But there is this desire/need/drive to be productive. I feel like I am cheating by not being at work. It's only been a couple of weeks since I left my job but I don't really FEEL like I left. Maybe it was the terms I left on, or maybe it's the simple fact that a large part of me wants to work. But either way, it's odd. 

I did flat out tell the husband that this week was a gimme week, full of lazy days with the kiddo and hanging out on the couch. Next week? I'll kick it into stay at home drive chalk full of meal planning, play ground adventures (ok but seriously, where is a good play ground around here?!) and days at the gym. But this week? LAZY. Even though that little voice inside my head tells me to get my butt moving. 

This is a challenge for me, and will continue to be a challenge while I find my place in this new lifestyle. I need to find a balance of "earning my keep" (not that my husband cares AT ALL what I do during the day!) while also taking care of myself. Two things that are equally important. 

So. Moms. Any tips for someone new to the stay at home lifestyle?

Vocalizing Frustrations

Earlier this week, I stumbled upon this post over at the Renegade Mothering blog, titled "You Blissed Out Moms are Ruining Futures" by way of PAIL Bloggers. It was a post that struck a deep chord with me. I thought it was truthful, well-written and well, funny! I like funny. (Side note: I WILL be going back to her blog frequently because seriously. I love her writing!)

(Another side note: I had never seen this blog before, but a quick search through her site determined that she suffered from postpartum depression. Another connection, having been through it myself.)

The issue that she discusses in this blog post is harsh; the idea that talking about the struggles of motherhood, issues with your children, the BAD days, should be in fact discussed. Instead, many women out there are blissfully going about their ways, pretending that life is perfect while hiding the struggles that many of us -- MOST of us -- most likely are going through.

This was me after Lucas was born. Feeling alone. Far away from friends & family. Not knowing what the hell I was doing and wondering, constantly, how I was going to make this work. So I kept all my fears and my worries to myself because I didn't want to be deemed "ungrateful" for what I had. I WASN'T. Not even close. But all that bottling up did was make me feel even MORE alone and sent me into an awful bout with PPD. To this day, even with the hard days and nights -- the ones that make me want to crawl up into a ball in the corner of the room and burst into tears; the days where I want to run away and just have 24 hours alone, with my own thoughts, a shower and a fresh comfortable bed; the days where I think twice about leaving work on time because I know my toddler didn't sleep last night and I know that he's been fighting eating, which means tonight is going to be another frustrating struggle -- I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. ANYTHING. I love my kid more than life itself, and most days that love completely overwhelms me to a point of knocking me off my feet.

He is amazing. And awesome. And man, we tell ourselves every day, out loud, how blessed we are to have such an amazing kid in our life. How LUCKY we are to have this experience. This is not a lie. This conversation actually happens between me & my husband every. single. day.

But it doesn't change the fact that sometimes it's just really fucking hard. But for many, they are shamed into keeping these struggles to themselves. Talking about it is not OK. Renegade Mothering says otherwise, and this is why I was drawn to this post so much. That we should talk about these things, out loud, even if it means that someday our children might know how much of a pain in the ass they were at times:

I’m doing my kids a FAVOR by telling them the truth. That way, when my girl has her first baby and feels that death of self, maybe she won’t suffer quite like I did. Maybe she’ll know she can call her mom and talk to her about the real, the grit, the nasty, raw ugly truth.

And maybe I can help her with the truth of my own life.

Maybe my son will give me a call in 15 years and say “Mom, I think my wife is going through what you did. She won’t get out of bed and it’s scaring me. She says she doesn’t want the baby. Mom, what should I do? How did you get through this? I want to help her.”

And he’ll have the power and courage and knowledge to face the nasty, raw, ugly, life-saving gorgeous truth. That’s what I want to give.

My mom didn't talk to me about her struggles raising four kids practically solo. My dad worked -- a lot -- and was rarely around. It was just my mom for most of the time, and to be honest, I don't really have many memories of my dad around when I was little. It was college before they were divorced, but growing up there would be weeks before I would see him because he was always at work. Home after I went to bed. Back to work before I woke up. I KNOW this was not easy on my mom. How could it have been? But she never talked about it.

And not talking about it is what makes you feel alone. Lost. Depressed. Angry because you don't know what you are doing. I didn't feel like I could talk to my mom and because so many of my friends were going through infertility treatment, I didn't feel like I could talk to them, either. But I don't think that bottling anything up makes anything go away. Like RM said:

It may be harder, but it’s right. And it’s the only way to become free. Why waste our time devoted to a fantasy? Why waste our lives perpetuating lies, even though we have daily evidence of reality, of the truth? Why do we justify a constant disconnect between what we’re experiencing and what we portray to the world?

Is there a faster track to insanity?

I don't think that this necessarily related to just letting your children know how hard it is. I think it's important for other mom's as well, whether you are a foster mom, adopted mom, gave birth to your own or are actively trying to be a mother in many forms. Nobody writes honest books about the ups and down. Nobody tells you how hard this can truly be. BUT WE SHOULD. It's why I'm quick to offer my experiences when I see a friend struggling. It's why I don't feel bad complaining about the lack of sleep that I have gotten because my toddler wakes up screaming in the middle of the night (thank you, molars). It's why I vocalize my frustrations with Lucas throwing entire meals onto the floor without taking a bite. It's why I wrote about how sad & angry I was after having a baby. It's all so that maybe someone out there will feel less alone. Maybe they will feel like they have someone to relate to. Somebody who understands EXACTLY what they are going through at that moment. Shaming somebody for being vocal is the quickest way to make them push their feelings & sadness farther down, closer to the brink of crazy.

That's wrong.

Everybody is different. We all are at very different parts in our journey. But if I can find closeness with a few people who are in the same boat as myself every once in a while, then I'll continue to do it. A friend on facebook said it best the other day; I shouldn't need to qualify how much I love my child and how grateful I am for this experience every time we have a bad day. Bad day's happen.

You don't have to like it, or understand it. You can unfollow, or stop reading without hurting my feelings, or most likely anyone else in that situation. But if you're going stick around, then let's all be understanding. If someone is going to speak out, don't make them feel bad for doing so. Sure, there are those out there that ARE ungrateful. But think twice about if that is really the case before telling a mother who hasn't slept in three days to be thankful for what she has. Most likely, deep down, you know that she really is. You may not know how she is feeling, however, or if she is on the brink of something dangerous to herself.

Let's just lift each other up and leave the shaming elsewhere, mmkay?

Taking Advantage of an Opportunity

I just wanted to say thanks to those who reached out after my last blog post! Dang. It's honestly nice to not feel so alone -- I wish I could find more of you!

It seriously sucks balls when you don't really know where you belong. I had been trying to explain this to a couple of friends this week, but unless you're HERE, feeling lost and alone, words can't really explain it. The Infertility community is an amazing community, and when I needed it in the beginning, when we started our journey damn near six years ago, it was a life saver for me. I have met some amazing women who are working hard every day to fight for infertility rights & I applaud the efforts that they continue to do. But I get that feeling that I'm not wanted (or welcome?) anymore, and that's fine. I will always support when I can but I also need support, not radio silence. As I have mentioned before, it's a two way street. I have given a lot, and right now when my life is a huge clusterfuck of who knows what, I need a little in return. So onwards I move & new friends to be found, as well as clinging a little tighter to the good ones I have now.

It's been great talking to a few of you through comments, messages, emails, etc. And I hope those of you who feel the way I do know that there is a place for us, somewhere. But this is the last I'm going to mention of this, because, well, it just makes me sad. Being left out is a shitty feeling, and that's very much how I feel right now. But it is what it is, and I'm over it, focusing on new things. New people. New projects.

Speaking of new projects, I've kind of got one of my own. I mentioned previously (and am mentioning here!) that with my newfound unemployment (nine working days left, people. I am kind of freaking out!) I have to sort of figure out what I want to do. I feel like I am not quite in a mid-life crisis but close. While I am sad to be leaving the workforce, there is a lot of positives to this new abundance of time that I will have.

First and foremost is extra time with Lucas. This kid is a sponge & is growing/changing daily. I cannot keep up with how fast he is growing and I feel like I have missed so much working the past year. I cannot wait to spend some more time with him, especially before baby #2 comes in January. I know he won't remember it, the extra time together these next six months, but I most definitely will. I am looking forward to all the great things that we will get to do together (as well as the frustrating times that come as well!)

But I'm also going to take some time to focus on me. Figure out what I want out of life. Find a new passion or reignite an old one. I will be writing about it, but not here. If you would LIKE to follow along, please feel free (although don't feel obligated!). You can find the new blog here:

http://thisthirtylifecrisis.wordpress.com/

There isn't much there right now. Four posts to be exact, and nothing in the past couple of weeks. My timeline is sort of this; I've got less than two weeks of work left, followed immediately by two weeks in Seattle to visit family & a few friends. I fully plan on taking that time to recharge & reenergize myself. Man, I really need this trip. Unfortunately my husband won't be able to come with me (boo Army!) but it was important that Lucas & I got home for a little while before I can't fly anymore.

When we get back, then it's game on. We don't know where we will be, or what we are doing just yet, but hopefully by then we will have some answers and some new orders for a new duty station. I don't plan on being a stay at home mom forever. I like working. But until then, I am going to take full advantage of this opportunity. Spend more time with the kiddo, but also figure out what the hell I want out of my own life. And I plan on documenting all of it over there. Art projects. Cooking classes. Hiking adventures. Graphic design mishaps. ALL OF IT. So please feel free to join me.

Love you all. Happy Monday!

Now What?

So there we were. Waiting on orders for a military move that apparently are never going to come. Not for this assignment at least. It's nearly official, save for some paperwork from a Colonel up the chain. Fort Gordon & Georgia are not happening. Not for this assignment.

This whole process, the MONTHS it has taken us to get here, is beyond frustrating. If it wouldn't take me an entire day to sit here and detail the chain of events, I would. But trust me when I say it is ridiculous.

I could cry.

Instead I try to do the normal military spouse thing and be strong for my husband. This is his career, not mine, and I know his frustration levels are much higher than mine. While we wait, we need to also figure out our next move. Hopefully, once things are finalized, we can find a new job. Bottom line is we can't stay here at Bragg, so a move is inevitable. But will that be two months from now or next year? We don't know. All the meanwhile, I sit here wondering what's next for our life. Where will we go? What will we do? What will *I* do? I don't have a job as of two weeks from now, due to unfortunate circumstances with my current employer. A trip to Seattle will be happening a couple of weeks but once I'm back, then ... ??? I don't know.

I need ... something. Most of our close friends have moved away. The twitter community (where I have gone in the past for support when needed) I feel has turned into this high school clique where once again, I'm not cool enough to hang with the in-crowd. Instead, I just use it to bitch about my daily frustrations, while shared successes & happy moments are rarely celebrated with me. It's a place where I end up apologizing more often than I should or feeling bad for sharing what's happening/how I'm feeling when that should not at all the case. Regardless, I miss having friends nearby and with our always changing army situation, I'm just feeling a little lost as to where exactly I fit in these days. It seems to really be nowhere.

I know this all sounds entirely childish. My insecurities are running rampant these days, if you could not tell. Maybe it's the extra hormones that are making me more sensitive than usual, but there is just this feeling of "what next?" Aside from a small, tiny handful of individuals, it's hard to talk about all of this with anybody due to the complicated nature of how we got where we are. But it's really only those few individuals who are asking. I will admit that I am jealous of some of the friendships I have seen develop & wishful that I could find more people that understand. This bubble that I'm in is a complicated one. I relied on the infertility world for so long, but with sort of getting the boot from that group (with no blame on anyone) but not really fitting into a normal "mommy group" I sort of feel myself wandering, reaching out to people, testing the waters and so desperately wanting to ask "will you be my friend?" It's dumb. I realize this. My nonsensical fear of people not liking me, you would think, would be long gone by 32 years old. But alas, here it sits.

Lack of support seems to be a common theme with me. So maybe it's my fault? I think I need to step back for a while and stop putting what I need on others and just tackling the issue on my own. Point of all of this being (sorry it took so long to get there) that I need to stop expecting sympathy, and instead realize that with my upcoming unemployment, take the opportunity to figure my life out; find a new passion and run with it, whatever that passion might be. Be more selective about who I open my heart to because nine times out of ten, I don't really get anything back and that's not fair. I'll probably be stepping back from social media because really, what good is it? (don't answer that. I know there is lots of good to it!) But for me, it's not serving as the outlet that I need it to, that it once was. Those that care, they know where to find me. Those that don't care, well, that's fine, too.

So yeah. Mission. To better my life. To not feel like a wanderer who doesn't really get to wander. To cut out some more negative and find some more positive. We will see what happens.

Thank You

First and foremost, before I get into the rest of the post, I want to thank y'all for all the support of my last blog post. Holy goodness.

There was a pretty big level of fear in writing that post. The emotions that I was feeling are very hard to convey, and I was terrified of actually hitting "publish."  I don't feel that I got out exactly what I wanted to say in the best of words, but I seemed to have made the point that I was trying to make. I appreciate all the lovely comments, emails & words of encouragement and I am glad that I didn't piss off too many people. Most, at least the ones that chose to be vocal, understood where I was coming from & took no offense. I was happy to see so many sides of the issues presented, without judgement, while also witnessing a great conversation unfold.

Being pregnant right now is hard. Telling people that I loved was hard. There were tears, lots of tears, and I think that this second pregnancy, in it's very short life, is loads harder than the first one was (not from a physical or mental standpoint, but from a "member of the infertility community" standpoint.) Sometimes I have a hard time accurately expressing how I feel, and how I hope I am not making others feel.

So thank you. I mean it.

So, what else has been going on? Our life has been chaotic & hectic. The Army seems to be doing wonderful things to us right now (she says sarcastically). Remember that impending move? Well, the move may be happening, just not where we had originally planned. Or at all. Or maybe still to where we thought, just with a different job in tow. We have no idea. I don't want to divulge plans, or our hopes of plans, since nothing is concrete anymore, but I am hoping that things work out in our favor. Of course, this is the Army we are talking about which means nothing ever works out in our favor (see also: stuck in NC for the past seven years.) or in a timely manner.

So who knows.

Baby-wise, I have nothing to report for the most part. I will be nine weeks this week, and haven't had much to show for it. I have had a couple days of nausea here and there & headaches early on that have, for the most part, gone away. Aside from that, my symptoms have been minimal. It's nerve-wracking and worrisome, but I have no reason to believe that anything is going wrong. It's hard to believe that we are at this point already, but at the same time, feels like we have barely made a dent. Is nine weeks really worth celebrating? I was looking back at some of my posts from this mark last time, when I was pregnant with Lucas, and it was hard reading how much sadness and despair I had (read here, here & here). I remember it, too, being completely terrified of what MIGHT happen. I felt that way for a long time, through most of my pregnancy, never truly feeling like I could relax & just enjoy it. Honestly, I never did.

There were other factors in that aside from the fear & worry (depression, lots of physical pain) but they were the main focus.I'm trying to NOT do that this time around. It's tough, I'm not going to lie. This pregnancy has already been different & worries aside, I feel in a much better place, even now.

We are ALMOST finished remodeling our kitchen (just in time for us to move). We need to slap some paint up on the walls & we will, for the most part, be done. I can't wait to share some before & after photos. SO different than when we moved into the house five years ago.

So that's that. Fingers crossed that the Army gives us good news. If I don't hear something this week, my head might explode. And nobody wants that to happen (I don't, at least!) 

So this is happening.

So. This happened last week!

Yes. My photography website is now up & running. This is a HUGE huge step for me. I mean, BIG STEP. With our impending move to Augusta, GA, I decided that I needed to take some time for ME. To figure out what I want to do. To be creative. To do the things I LOVE. The desk job thing? I'm sort of over it. Call it a midlife crisis of sorts (god, I hope I'm not dead by 64!) but I needed to make a change in my life.

This is the first of many.

I am so proud of this site & the work I have done so far. I am far from the greatest photographer in the world, but I LOVE what I do, and I am looking forward to the opportunity to do some more of it. Doing this full time will also give me the opportunity to stay home with Lucas & spend more quality time with him, while also pursuing some other creative aspects that I would like to make more of a permanent fixture in my life.

So if you are in the Augusta, GA area and are looking for a photographer? I'm your girl. If you know someone in that area? Please share my site!

Yay for big life steps!

Our Friends*

People, I am getting nervous about the move. Like, really nervous.

There is so much to do, that I don't even know where to start. So much packing. So much throwing away of things. Finding a house [and the argument that has come up between M & I -- to buy or not to buy]. The job situation, or lack thereof. And just -- MOVING.

Moving is stressful.

I think what terrifies me the most is starting over. I'm no stranger to starting over, at all. We moved -- A LOT -- when I was a kid. My dad was a computer engineer so we went where the jobs were. Washington. Utah. Oregon. Back to Washington. Florida. Back to Washington. Moves within the state. My four years at college was the longest I had ever been in ONE place. For a long time, I was used to adjusting [we weren't even Army!!]

But we have been here for a while now. Seven years, which in military terms is practically a LIFETIME. When I first moved here, I was able to find some good friends, one in particular, S, who was my mutual lifeline back home. We were both from Washington, and actually knew quite a lot of the same people. We were introduced by another mutual friend & with our husbands deploying together [another coincidence] we were inseparable. I was introduced to a couple other people through my husband [wives of his friends] and found my own group of friends through a job & social events. "Hey, I like your bra!" was one of my pickup lines at a baseball game almost seven years ago. C & I have been friends ever since.

A lot of those early friendships have come & gone. S moved back to Seattle, ended up getting divorced & left the military wife life all together. While we still keep in touch, the communication isn't nearly what it used to be. Some friendships came to ugly ends. Others just faded over time, as friendships sometimes do. All of this is OK. It happens. LIFE happens. ESPECIALLY in a military town where people are coming and going with the wind.

But somewhere along the way I found my groove, so to speak. We found a really great group of people that have constantly been so supportive of our lives. Not to mention they are just truly amazing people. When I got pregnant & had Lucas, it was such a huge shift in our lifestyle. A very, very good one, but a lesson to learn none the less. As a full time working mom, battling post-partum depression and figuring out how to balance my child with my life with my husband with my job, things changed. There wasn't time for much of a social life, nor did we really want one. Suddenly the get-together's we used to have with beer pong tournaments [oh yes. I am AMAZING at beer pong. I promise you this!!!] and late night cookouts with all of our other couple friends [with the occasional group of singles mingling in!] just weren't appealing. It was all I could to do get up, get my kid to daycare, go to work, pick him up, get him home, feed him, bath him, make dinner for M & I. When there WAS free time, it was spent calling family I hadn't talked to in weeks. Worrying about the health of my grandfather. Responding to emails. Trying to spend a few minutes with my OWN husband before falling into bed. Or just breathing, trying to keep the crazy that was swirling in my head at bay.

Any communication I got from the outside world was welcome, although I wasn't very good at responding, aside from the occasional text message. But this group -- this wonderful, wonderful group that we had established pre-baby -- they understood this. There was no judgement for not keeping in touch. No anger for missing an event or leaving early. We don't talk behind each others backs & be nice to each others faces. They have given me a place to stay when I needed it. They have offered to watch the kiddo so M & I can get away for a night. They drop off soup when we are sick & offer to pick up some groceries if they are out. They check in knowing that it may be a while before either one of us gets back to them. They offer support when something goes wrong & are encouraging when we open up about things we had been keeping to ourselves. They love our child like their own, cry with us, celebrate with us, and understand when they need to be put on the back-burner for a bit so we can get our own life back on track.

They love us & we love them. They are our family. No matter how far away we end up moving, THESE people will be in our lives forever.

But still, I will miss them. Starting over somewhere new again is much harder in your 30's. Making QUALITY friends at this age is tough. I'm not the open book that I used to be, and I'm trying much harder to be a little more protective of our life. Putting myself out there again is scary & not something I am really looking forward to. It will be easy to get into the mindset of "we aren't going to be here for long, so what's the point?" and I am going to try and not do that. I NEED a social life, even if it's just a lunch date once a month!

But. I will miss my peeps. And even though the Army is going to send us all our ways this year [it seems we are ALL moving -- not just my family] I love these people. They know I love them. They know who they are. And I hope that my husband is prepared for my already WAY TOO MANY text messages to sky rocket. Sorry babe :)

Girls Weekend in Savannah!

A while back, my amazingly awesome friend Lauren & I decided that since we were both parting way [*sniff. sniff*] in the coming months because of military moves, that we needed a girls weekend together. Lauren is, hands down, one of my best friends here in town, and easily earns that title as well in the rest of my life. While it was our struggle with infertility that brought us together, my life has been better with her in it these past couple of years & I am trying to not think about the fact that we won't be living just a couple minutes from each other after May.

Sorry husbands. You thought our texting was bad before?

Just you wait.

So with what's to come, we knew we needed to maximize our time together! We took off to Savannah, GA, for the weekend with another very good girlfriend of mine (my awesome birth buddy, Jenny, who held my hand & cheered me on during Lucas's delivery). We arrived late Friday night, checked into the hotel and got some rest! For me, it was a much needed weekend away, as well as some great quality time with amazing women!

Saturday morning we got up, got ready, ate an overpriced breakfast at the hotel that we thought (according to the website, AHEM!) was free (it wasn't) and hit the town. We had all been to Savannah before, which made the trip a little easier. We drove to the Visitor Center & hopped on the Trolley Tour, which gave us not only a great overview of the city, but also easy access to the historic district without having to figure out the parking situation. The tour was fun, entertaining & educational! Since two of the three of us had been former Girl Scouts, we did make a quick stop at the Juliet Gordon Low House to do the tour. Also educational! YAY EDUCATION!

The weather was perfect. We really could not have asked for a better Saturday to explore the town. It was warm & sunny; sunscreen was definitely in order (I missed a couple of spots. Whoops.) but because we are still early in the year, the nasty Southern humidity had not kicked in. It was a perfect combination for a really great day and I think we all enjoyed the time together.

Savannah has quickly become one of my favorite cities to visit. This was the third time I have been, and every time I fall a little more in love with it. The old world charm. The history. The gorgeous, gorgeous homes that I will never be able to own in a million years (trust me. Zillow told me so. Jenny & I spent about an hour on the iPad looking up beautiful, beautiful homes.) I could spend an entire weekend just walking around the city, taking photos of all the amazing architecture and gorgeous scenery. One of the things I am looking forward to most in our upcoming move is that we will be a little bit closer to this wonderful city. A mere two and a half hours away; doable for a day trip or a short weekend without feeling rushed or travel weary. The husband is a big fan of Savannah as well, so I see many frequent trips in the next couple of years.

We attempted to head over to Tybee Island, but because it was so gorgeous out, apparently everybody else had the same idea. About 10 miles to the lighthouse, we got stuck in bumper to bumper traffic that wasn't really moving. We turned around and headed back to the historic district, and then quickly decided that we should head back to the hotel to rest for an hour/freshen up before dinner.

Oh yes, y'all. Paula Deen was calling our name.

Dinner was at The Lady & Sons restaurant in the historic district. We had ALL eaten there before, and it was definitely a given that we would be eating there again. Let me tell you all -- it was worth it. Every calorie that filled me up & kept me full for the next two days was amazingly worth it. I could have rolled out of there and probably should have just walked the five miles back to the hotel. The food was, as always, amazing. Can I say amazing one more time? It was amazing.

We all slept very well that night, and slept in quite a bit the next morning. It was 8:30 before we woke up (a time that I KNOW Lauren and I don't get to sleep past too often!) on Sunday morning. We took our time packing up our things & headed to Clary's for breakfast -- a local hotspot with lots of history and connections. The food was good (of course it was) and our belly's were content on the ride back home.

All in all, a truly great weekend. I am so blessed to have amazing friends like these two and my heart hurts knowing that we won't have many more times like this in the future. I am grateful for the opportunity we had over the weekend! As I said, it was much needed and beneficial for my soul. Also, any excuse to get to Savannah is a good one in my book!

IUI Number Two & What to Do*

IUI #2. It's on the table.

We decided long ago that when Lucas turned one, we would have the conversation of do we or don't we. We have gone back and forth so many times of whether or not to have a second. We are happy with the one, amazing blessing we have, but at the same time, expanding our family one more time seems like the right thing to do. With the impending move, neither of us wants to continue treatment at a new facility, with a new doctor. With me being 32 and my husband about to turn 34, the age factor also comes into play here.  The age gap where I am comfortable having another baby is closing, for me and for my husband, and with said move, comes additional time for finding a new clinic, repeating tests, starting over ... it's too much, too long.

But we have a limited amount of time. Three chances, at the most, before we leave. Likely only two, depending on what happens in July and when we decide to pack up and head farther South. June is out because of a school my husband will be at the entire month, unless we decide to freeze. That leave April and May as definite chances (for now). We were extremely lucky with our only IUI working last time, but the reality is it may not work that way the second time. Despite optimism from others, I'm going into this level headed, knowing what I know, that it may not be like this again.

And if it doesn't work? We have accepted that it just wasn't meant to be. A one child family. We are OK with this.

I've also been fighting some personal demons that I have been working very hard to overcome. This decision does not come lightly for me & my family.

But it is what it is, and while nothing has been decided yet (although we are nearing having to make that decision for the month of April) we are ready to go should we decide to pull the trigger. Meds have been picked up. Clinic on standby.

As exciting as this decision comes for me & my little family, it also comes with some worry. I worry about depression. I worry about the physical pain that I endured while pregnant with Lucas. I worry about coming so far while also slipping. I've voiced my concerns to my husband, and told him of my fears, and knowing what we know now, maybe all of this won't be the case this time around.

But more than anything, I worry about this community. Telling you all this does not come lightly, but with a heavy heart. Many that I know, close or not, are still dealing heavily with infertility. My intention is NEVER to hurt anyone, but I know this news does just that to some. What if I DO end up pregnant again (which is ultimately the goal)? What if this IUI is as easy for us this time around as it was last time? Telling those that I would need to tell -- it would break my heart. And more importantly, likely theirs. I know this. I don't want to hurt my friends. I don't want to hurt any of you. I know that the ones closest to us would be happy if we were to be blessed with a second pregnancy, but I would not blame any of them should they need to step away from our life, from me, for a while. Or unfollow me. Or block me on Facebook. Or just in general, say adios.

This is what is weighing heaviest on my mind, and in all honesty, weighs in my decision of whether or not to do this in April. I will be cycling with some of my closest friends. Delivering the news, if we are lucky enough to have news to share, would not come with ease if things did not go absolutely perfectly and we all got pregnant (which is the way it should happen, damnit!), and there will likely be tears. I know there are some that say infertility is a battle, no matter where you are in the process. That pain is pain. But I also know that when you already have one, such as we do, it's so very different than it is for the individuals still fighting for one of their own. Infertility is a bitch, and it still effects me every. single. day. Even when we weren't trying. But it's different. This I know.

I love this community. And I love my friends. Plain and simple, I don't want to be the cause of any more pain to any of them.  Maybe, just this once, the universe will be kind to those I love and all this worry will be for nothing. Let's do that, mmkay, universe? Thanks.

When PPD Strikes*

I try to keep things lights & fluffy around here as much as possible, but every once in a while, something comes up that hits me in my core. This is one of those posts. 

*****
I will warn you that this is about Postpartum Depression. If you are suffering from PPD & do not think you can read this, I understand. It may contain some triggers. 

Two weeks ago, a woman jumped to her death, eight stories, taking her baby with her. The baby miraculously survived. We all saw the news story, but I was surprised to see it fade so quickly & not circulate around the interwebs like most shocking stories tend to do. The general sentiment was that this was a truly tragic and unfortunate event, which is absolutely was, but nobody was talking about it past then. My boss actually knew the woman (they went to high school together) so maybe that's why it was a little more in the limelight for me, but it was still shocking, when so many news stories go viral so quickly, this one didn't linger.

It was rumored that the mother suffered from Postpartum Depression. Is this why nobody wanted to talk about it? Postpartum depression can effect up to 20% of women. The "Baby Blues," which are considered normal, happen much more frequently, but the difference is that they go away. Postpartum Depression lingers, and an individual can show signs & symptoms for up to a year after giving birth.

The Beginning & Following Escalation
I'm here to admit that my baby blues did not go away. Weeks went by where I would cry for no reason. Uncontrollably. We were lucky to have paternity leave for about a week after Lucas was born, but then M went back to work. Since we live 3,000 miles away from family, our help was sparse. My best friend came to visit two weeks after Lucas was born, and I remember crying (again, uncontrollably) when I picked her up from the airport. I was beyond grateful that she was there to help, to be there for me, but I know she will attest to just how bad my Baby Blues were while she was there.

But even then, the sadness didn't stop. I haven't been very secretive about my issues with depression on this blog, and if you know me in real life, I won't ever shy away from the conversation if it comes up and I am questioned about it. But there still is some shame that I feel from time to time. Instead of going away, like they should have, the blues sort of just changed their appearance. A time that was supposed to be the happiest of my life was filled with dread and anxiety. I was insanely protective of Lucas -- more so than I probably should have been. If one thing did not go the way I wanted it to, if our schedule was off, if anybody other than me was responsible for ANY tiny aspect of his well being (my husband included), my anxiety shot to unbelievable levels. In my head, I could feel the crazy, but talking myself down from it just didn't happen.

It was months before the postpartum anxiety went away. Dropping Lucas off at our sitters was awful (no matter how much I trusted & adore the woman who watches him!) Eventually the anxiety faded but again, only to manifest itself into just a general depression. I was angry, bitter, sad all the time, and my marriage was starting to suffer because of it. True, marriage post baby is work regardless, but this was an exceptional BAD.

What surprised me the most, looking back, was the rage. So much RAGE. The anger that I experienced was more than any other aspect of the PPD, which is why I didn't recognize it for so long. When you first think of PPD, let's admit it -- you think of overwhelming sadness. Lots of tears, constantly. And while I had those moments as well, THOSE were so few and far between that I filed them away in the "new mom working full time trying to raise a baby on sleepless nights" folder. But there was a lot of anger at everybody around me, and I am disappointed to say that my husband took the brunt of it.

I hated life. I hated everybody and everything around me. Lucas was the only light in tunnel and lord help anybody who crossed either of us. I considered leaving my marriage, for a very long time, because I thought surely this is not my fault that things are this bad. Every day, for months, the thought crossed my mind. In reality, my darling husband was just trying to cope with that crazy that was going through his wife's head, the best that he could, and I was too deep into it all to see what was going on & how he must have been in complete turmoil. He had no fucking clue what was going on, because again, nobody tells you about this part of PPD. It was new, and scary, and we both were pretty lost in how it was affecting our lives.

The Breaking Point
When my grandfather passed away in February, I hit a low that I couldn't seem to pull myself back up from. It was a hard passing for me, and I hit a breaking point.It had been coming for a while -- I've been sleep deprived for almost two years. I work full time. Army life is not kind to us at times, which means I often find myself parenting solo while also trying to maintain a working lifestyle. We recently found out we will be moving, which adds a whole other level of stress to our lives.  I felt like I had been treading water for quite some time -- not quite drowning, but not quite swimming with ease, either. When my grandpa died, I felt like treading was no longer an option. I just wanted out. Not suicide out (don't get me wrong. Suicide is never the answer, no matter how bad it was) but I wanted to throw in the towel. Run away. Never look back.

To breath again.

It was after that, I made the decision to go back on my prozac. I had been on and off anti-depressants since graduate school, so I was no stranger to them. I had a prescription that I had intended to go back onto after I gave birth. The only reason I stopped taking it to begin with was because of the pregnancy, and I knew, after the Baby Blues didn't really go away, that I needed to go back on them. I talked to my midwife at my six week postpartum checkup. I got the prescription. I filled said prescription. I took them for two days and then stopped. My depression during pregnancy should have been enough for me to convince myself to go back on the meds, but I still didn't listen to my head.

"I can do this myself," I said. "I'm fine. This will pass," I told myself.

It didn't.

Had I ever talked to a doctor again about it, I am confident that they would have diagnosed me with PPD. I most definitely had Postpartum Anxiety. I SHOULD have stayed on the prozac the first time around. I hated myself for going back on it last month, but even just a few weeks into it and I can feel the difference. While no marriage is perfect and we definitely have our issues to work on, like any couple, I am feeling a little less crazy. A little less angry. A LOT less sad. Generally? Just better. And my life, as a whole, is better because of it. My marriage is better. My relationships are better. My work is better.

All in all -- BETTER. Easy? No. I still struggle, and I am sure that I will continue to struggle. I have good days & bad days. But it's manageable. Like I said, it's better.

I still need sleep. Lots of it. But that will come, right?

I didn't talk to anybody while I was going through all of this. As I said before, there seems to be some level of shame in finding out you are suffering from PPD. And that poor woman, who felt like taking her life and her baby's life was the only way out? I know how I felt, have felt in the past, and I can't imagine that dark of a place where taking your own life, and attempting to take the life of your child is the only way out.

Take Care Of Yourself
Postpartum depression can mainfest in many forms. From WebMD:

The "baby blues," which occur in most women in the days right after childbirth, are considered normal. A new mother has sudden mood swings, such as feeling very happy and then feeling very sad. She may cry for no reason and can feel impatient, irritable, restless, anxious, lonely, and sad. The baby blues may last only a few hours or as long as one to two weeks after delivery. The baby blues do not usually require treatment from a health care provider. Often, joining a support group of new moms or talking with other moms helps. 

Postpartum depression (PPD) can happen a few days or even months after childbirth. PPD can happen after the birth of any child, not just the first child. A woman can have feelings similar to the baby blues -- sadness, despair, anxiety, irritability -- but she feels them much more strongly than she would with the baby blues. PPD often keeps a woman from doing the things she needs to do every day. When a woman's ability to function is affected, she needs to see her health care provider. If a woman does not get treatment for PPD, symptoms can get worse. While PPD is a serious condition, it can be treated with medication and counseling. 

Postpartum psychosis is a very serious mental illness that can affect new mothers. This illness can happen quickly, often within the first three months after childbirth. Women can lose touch with reality, having auditory hallucinations (hearing things that aren't actually happening, like a person talking) and delusions (strongly believing things that are clearly irrational). Visual hallucinations (seeing things that aren't there) are less common. Other symptoms include insomnia (not being able to sleep), feeling agitated (unsettled) and angry, and strange feelings and behaviors. Women who have postpartum psychosis need treatment right away and almost always need medication. Sometimes women are put into the hospital because they are at risk for hurting themselves or someone else.

And don't forget to take care of yourself. I learned the hard way, and if we are blessed with baby #2, I will do things much, much differently. Here are some tips that can help you cope with bringing home a newborn:

Ask for help -- let others know how they can help you.
Be realistic about your expectations for yourself and baby. 
Exercise; take a walk and get out of the house for a break.
Expect some good days and some bad days.
Follow a sensible diet; avoid alcohol and caffeine.
Foster the relationship with your partner -- make time for each other.
Keep in touch with family and friends -- do not isolate yourself.
Limit visitors when you first go home.
Screen phone calls.
Sleep or rest when your baby sleeps!

All in all -- do what is right FOR YOU and your family.  Seek help if you need it. Don't be afraid or ashamed to reach out to a friend or family member and talk about what you are feeling. More often than not, you just might find an ally who has been there.

What's Next?

With an impending move on the horizon. it's safe to say that I have sort of started to freak out.

One of the things that is worrisome to me is my job. My current position isn't, by any stretch of the imagination, a dream job of sorts. Honestly, it's the farthest thing from it. But it's money in my pocket, so I will take it. Augusta is sort of a smaller town. Not TINY, but not exactly a large metropolitan area. The job market matches that. The job hunt in our new location has officially begun and I am sad to say, it doesn't look very promising.

One of my issues in my job search is that I don't really know what I want to do. I mean, I DO. I have an education. A masters degree. A "career field" that I am comfortable with and enjoy for the most part. But when I sit down and think about what I want to do, I come up empty.

I know I want a little bit of financial freedom. I like our lifestyle, and while it's not LAVISH by any means, we don't have to pinch pennies thankfully. I don't want to give that up anytime soon. Also, I enjoy working. Yes, being a working mom is tough & has it's challenges, but I still enjoy it. At least, I enjoy it when I am feeling fulfilled creatively & challenged in my day to day duties. But this impending move has me wondering -- what exactly DO I want to do?

As a direct sales consultant for Jamberry, I have started to see things pick up with my business, to the point that within the coming months, there is a very good chance that doing direct sales (hahahaha! Something I never thought I would be doing) will essentially replace my current income. Jamberry has become so easy & with a product that essentially sells itself, it has required very little effort on my part to be successful. Is it a silly concept? Sure! I LOVE the product, but I am making money off of designer nail wraps! WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT?? It's not something I want to do forever, but for now, it seems to be working. So why not?

But what next? I have always wanted to start my own business, which would allow me to focus on the aspects of public relations that I TRULY love. I have also considered, many times over, to launch into photography full time because I also love what I do when I get to do it. Taking both of those plunges before has been scary. Giving up a guaranteed income to try and do something that might not succeed is extremely terrifying on many, many levels. But with money coming in from the Jamberry thing, the idea of doing BOTH of these things doesn't seem so far off.

I'm still applying for jobs down in Augusta, because working in an office setting is comfortable. It's what I know. Again, that reliance of income is a little less terrifying than branching out on my own. But maybe it's time. Maybe this is the sign that I need to do what I want to do. I have a lot of research to in the coming months, before we take off for this new adventure. Or maybe I don't. Maybe I just DO IT. Throw caution to the wind. Build my websites. Put it out there.

See what happens.

Cue total terror. I just don't know. I know that my fear is deciding this for me. I know my fear of the unknown is keeping me from something that could potentially be very rewarding. I like comfortable. I like planned. I like KNOWING where my next paycheck is going to come from. But the places I am getting my paychecks aren't always the most rewarding. I sort of want both. So I don't know. I have a lot -- a LOT -- of thinking to do.

This could be the greatest, or worst decision I have ever made!

When Babies Get Sick*

This past week, our household was stricken with a seriously horrible bug. Things were going completely fine in our household up until Wednesday. M had to leave to go to the field for a few days to take part in some Army training, so the two of us were left alone for a few days. No big deal.

On Wednesday night, around 8:30 p.m., after a happy, healthy, normal day, I went in to check on the little guy before making myself a salad and setteling in for the night. In the 30 seconds it took me to walk from his nursery to the couch, all hell broke lose. Upon getting back to the living room, I heard him throwing up and crying on the monitor.

And from there it didn't stop. Every 10-15 minutes for the next four and a half hours.

Y'all, I can handle a little throw up. It honestly doesn't bother me. So I tried to stay calm, and my AMAZING friend Lauren contacted our other friend Lauren, whose husband happens to be a doctor, to get some advice and  plan of attack for me. Fluids in small doses. Monitor. Go from there. Ok. I can handle this. No big deal. At one point I got him to sleep and for 45 minutes, things were calm. My intention was to get our bed ready and have him sleep with me all night incase something else happened. I also needed to get the dogs out of the house for a few minutes so they could do their thing before we settled down. But as soon as I laid him down in the crib, he woke up and instantly threw up again.

After two hours, things had still not slowed down, so I called the advice nurse line at the local civilian hospital. We were going to stop the fluids, give him a warm bath and try to get his stomach calmed down. Then, in an hour, call back and reasses the situation. Upon hanging up the phone with her, his throwup went from normal to a bright neon yellow.

Stomach bile. I called back and we were told to come in immediately.

At this point, I was in sort of a state of panic. There was no more calm. It was 10:30 at night. I couldn't get ahold of M due to where he was and the horrible cell phone reception. Lucas was still throwing up every 10-15 minutes at this point, and somehow I needed to get dressed, pack the diaper bag and get to the hosipital. Lauren #1 (which, coincidiently, I do refer to the Lauren's as Lauren #1 & Lauren #2 in my real life. It makes it easier for the husband to understand which I am talking about! ha!), who I had been texting the entire time, offered to come stay with me, and then incedently go to the hospital with me. But in my head, all I could think was, I have 10 minute windows. That's it. So after he threw up, I set him on the bed (he wasn't going anywhere) and packed up his diaper bag with extra blankets, extra pajamas and a few necessities just in case. I knew that if we went, we would be going for a while. I threw on some clothes & put the dogs in the kennel.

I waited until the next wave hit, and then we locked up and I drove like a crazy person to the civilian hospital, which, thank goodness, is only about 10 minutes away. I FINALLY got a hold of M, told him what was going on, and promised to keep him updated. The staff at the ER facility were amazing, so sweet and so sympathetic. They got us back almost right away to a room but before they could do anything to make the vomiting stop, they wanted to do some xrays. Because of the amount of stomach bile that he was throwing up, the frequency and the color, the doctor thought that his intestines may be twisting and causing everything that was happening. So while we waited for the xrays to come back, I continued to just nurture and help him through the waves.

It was painful. As his mom, I wanted to make it stop. It was not a pretty picture, which bright yellow bile coming out both his mouth and his nose because there was just so much of it. But I shockingly kept it together. When the xrays came back that everything in his stomach and abdomen was fine, they hooked up him to an IV to get some fluids into him. The poor kid was so worn out, y'all, he didn't cry when they stuck the needle into him. It broke my heart.

Once the IV was in, about 1:00 in the morning, they gave him 1ml of zofran, and holy crap ... BRAND NEW KID. The change was instant. The vomiting stopped. He was happy. He was smiling. It was a damn miracle. My hope was that he would go to sleep, but that was not the case. So for the next two hours, while we watched the bag of fluids drip into his IV, we curled up on the bed and watched cartoons on the TV in the room.

Around 3 a.m., the doctor decided that he wanted to try some pedialyte since there had been no episodes since the zofran was given. This made both the nurse and me nervous, but the kid sucked it down and then passed out (which was awesome for me ... I curled up next to him and was MORE than happy to close my eyes for a bit at this point). Around 4 a.m. the doctor came back in, said that since he had kept it down, they were going to discharge us and send us on our way. Their speculation at this point was that it was just a bug, but we were leaving with the understanding that if he threw up again, we needed to come right back.

Got it.

Around 5:30, we were finally able to head home. Lucas & I curled up in our bed and fell right asleep. We had a great day on Thursday with no episodes, but nothing for him except pedialyte, and then Friday we got hit with proof that it was a bug with more messy diapers than I care to talk about & myself catching whatever it was. Oh yeah, and M still out in the field. Mama throwing up & changing baby's dirty diapers did not make for a fun Friday.

And I just want to say to the friends who were there to help us -- and you know who you are -- THANK YOU. It really does take a village, people. We are so lucky to have people in our lives who will drop EVERYTHING at any hour of any day to help us out. I posted the above photo of Lucas with his IV on my facebook page that night, stating that we would be spending the evening in the ER, and I got multiple phone calls and text messages from people asking if we needed anything, on top of the three or four friends who knew what was going on from the beginning and their constant offers of support. This kid is loved by so many.

And as of today, we are all *fingers crossed* happy & HEALTHY.

 

 

Ten Months*

This past week, Lucas hit the ten month mark. Ten months, people. That's just two away from twelve.

How did we get here?

Time is moving way too quick these days.

Every month -- EVERY MONTH -- he amazes me at how much he grows & learns. This past month he decided that walking was what you wanted to do. Even though he took his first steps before Christmas, it was nothing but a few here, or a few there. Then one day, same as he has done with everything else, he decided that he was ready. And across the living room he went, in a wonderful, well-practiced stride. Like he had been doing it forever.

And he hasn't stopped since. Laps around the living room, chasing the dogs up and down the hallway, following me or M into every room of the house, and cracking up when he thinks he's made his getaway and got ahead of us. There are no ends to what he can do, and I hope that he continues with this gusto for life throughout childhood and adulthood. This kid is determined, and a perfectionist and puts everything he has into everything he's got. Rolling over. Crawling. Walking (and now, almost running). When he decides that he is ready to do something, he does it. No hesitation. It's truly an amazing character to see in him and I hope that it is one that he carries with him the rest of his life. It will get him far, this I promise you.

 

Lucas's also has "mama" and "dada" down so well. We continue to work on other vocabulary with him, and while he isn't saying any other words yet, he mimics us and our actions so well. We can wave bye bye and we are working on the meaning of some other words. Also? This kids curiosity. He wants to know everything about everybody. If he can't see what he wants, he will find a way.

This kid is an eating champ. His growth is still ridiculous and his love for food apparent. He will try anything we put in front of him. This is another reminder of just how much he is growing, as the more "real" food he eats, the less formula he is taking in during the day. Which means I am losing more of that precious one on one time that I get with him. Bottle feedings at night are still happening, although getting smaller and smaller in time, and more recently, has begun to sleep through the night. It's weird to me that I would be sentimental about this, but after this long, I have come to really love my time with him at night, snuggled up in the glider, warm under a blanket and feeling close to him.

Sometimes I get so sad at how quick he is growing. Every day I think to myself, how did we get here. How is it that I am staring down at his first birthday already. This year is going too, too quick and I am not ready for him to not be a baby anymore. I already feel like I have missed so much being a working mom & that he is growing at a rate much quicker than little babies should. I am trying, every day, to enjoy every little moment I have with him while he is still little and still wants me to rock him to sleep. To hold him. To play on the floor with him. To chase him around. I know it won't last forever. But the moment where we are sitting there, cuddled up on the couch, or when he reaches over and touches my face (or, you know, sometimes slaps. We're working on that.) ... they are wonderful. I know, in my heart, that hitting the one year mark is going to be tough. We are just under two months away and I have already gotten misty over it.

But at the same time, I love who he is now as a child & a little boy. So much love. So much life. He is worth every sleepless night that I have had in the past two years, through a painful pregnancy and figuring out life as a new mom. And as much as I want him to stay little forever, I am so excited to see the little boy -- and eventually, the man -- he will become.

Happy, Healthier, More Positive*

I saw this quote on Pinterest today and it struck a nerve with me. A good nerve, but a nerve none the less! One of the things that has truly bothered me coming into the new year is how much negativity I have in my life. Not just from me, but from others as well. Part of this is my own doing -- I have a tendency to be a pessimist. To think the worst of any situation. To gravitate towards "Negative Nancy" land.

This is really true for my own life -- I love pumping other people up, having hope for them and thinking that only the best possible thing can happen for THEM. I just can't seem to do it for myself. There seems to be a lot of hate & general discord out there lately, and I'm not going to lie -- it's bumming this girl out!

So as well as trying to get healthy this year, I'm also determined to live a more positive, happier life. This means cutting out the negative. The negative things. The negative people. There are a lot of ways that I am trying to do this -- I started to do this towards the end of last year -- and I gotta tell you, it's making me feel better already.

I love life, and I want to live a HAPPY life. True -- bad things happen. Negative things happen. I can't stop it all from entering my world. Last year was a perfect example of that with multiple members of my family developing & battling cancer. Being immersed in the infertility world, it's also hard to ignore the cruel fact that things don't always go the way that we want to go. Trust me -- I hate that.

But it's also good to see the GOOD things that can happen. People coming together to lift up & support one another. To provide hope to those that don't necessarily have it for themselves. To be a positive example for others. I want to be that person. These are the things I want to focus on. My focus is being directed to those individuals & the things that a positive impact in my life. Who make me happy & who make me want to be a better person. Those who inspire me & bring me joy. I don't want to focus on the bad anymore. Not this year. Not while I am trying so hard to become healthier & happier.

I fully realize that this is a completely random post -- but for me, I need to put this out there & vocalize the change that I am trying to make. So keep me accountable, people.  I truly hope to reflect this change here.

Here's to a happier 2013!

Happy New Year!

Holy bejeebus, people. It's been a MONTH since I have written anything. It's not for lack of trying, that's for sure. Life just sort of happened. I hope you understand.

In all honesty, I needed to take some time to figure out really what I want out of my life. I mentioned last month that I'm sort of struggling with keeping it all together. Life has been a little bit of a cluster these past few months & I want to make some sort of sense of my life again. Figure out what is next & where I want to go [metaphorically speaking. Physically, I'm staying right here!]

With us being in the new year, I took December to sort of come up wtih a plan. Find out what was most important to me & what I wanted to do about it. What was making me the most unhappy & what could I do to change that? Once I figured that out, I would go from there.

My weight is something that I have always struggled with. I'm not a small girl -- never have been. Even when I was playing soccer twice a day, seven days a week, lifting weights five days a week & in the best shape of my life, I was never smaller than a size 10. And that's ok. I'm happy at that weight range.

But, I am far from that right now. I'm not a naturally small person. SO ... my goal in 2013 is to get back to that. To be HAPPY with how I look & how I feel. I know it's cliche to buy a gym membership at the beginning of the year, but it's exactly what I did & yesterday I went in for my first workout of the year.

And let me tell you, it felt good. I haven't pushed myself that hard in a long time. I LOVED IT. Which means I know I can do this and keep up with it. It's taking some coordination on the part of myself, my husband and the babysitter; the only opportunity I have to workout is immediately after work, which means Lucas either needs to stay a little later or M needs to pick him up for me. Both have said that this is fine.

There's a level of suck to this, in that it means less time with my family. Something that has bothered me in the past [not spending enough time with them] BUT, I know that my health is important, too. I have 80 pounds to lose. And being healthy and happy for my kid and for my husband is just as important as the time I spend with them.

So, for this year, I'm putting ME first. I'm counting calories. I'm working out. I'm striving to be happy & healthy. I know it will take me all year to get to where I want to be, and I know it's more about how I feel than the number on the scale. But in the end it will be worth it! I want to write about my journey here & will do so when I can. I hope it will keep me accountable.

What are your goals for 2013?

Navigating*

I'm feeling a little lost these days.

Like I don't quite have all my shit together.

In the past, I have prided myself on being organized, although slightly messy at times. Right now I am just a total disaster, inside and out. My house is a fucking mess. Laundry happens when I run out of clean underwear & showers are few & far between. Lucas being on the move, as awesome as it is, creates a whole new set of obstacles. I can't just plop him down somewhere while I get something done. The only reason the living room is in decent shape is because that's where he spends all his time while we are home, so it HAS to be baby friendly. But dear god ... if you come over, do NOT open the doors.

It will not be pretty. You might actually get lost.

I know that this is all a good sign of me being a good mom (at least I hope it is) that my priorities are with Lucas & not focused on other things, but being a good mom & a good wife & a good employee is hard. I really don't know where the balance is, or how to even TRY to find it. Something is always suffering. And that, my friends, is frustrating. My husbands job does not help. He is out the door at 5am every morning, so EVERY MORNING I am on my own trying to get up, get showered, get ready for work, get the baby ready for the day and make it to my job in one piece. Every day something gets forgotten, or time just runs out. And lord help me if Lucas decides that 5:30 is the time that he wants to be up for the day. Showers? Apparently a thing of the past.

Then there is baby number two. Do we? Don't we? I don't feel I am at all ready to go down that road again. I know that we had things pretty easy the last time around as far as our infertility treatments were concerned, with our first IUI being successful, but there was a lot of heartbreak to get to that point. There are so many "what if's" that come into play on top of that. Yes, I know that it may not come to that the second time around. That I may get pregnant on my own. But then I would sort of feel like a traitor to a community that is so awesome & supportive. But what if it does come to that again? Emotionally, I am not sure I can handle the ins & outs of trying & not succeeding every month. Going in for another IUI is an option for us right away (without the disappointing baby dance every month) but do we want to go THAT route without trying on our own first?

Can we even handle a second child? Right now, M gets home from work around 7pm every night. Lucas goes down at 7:30. So from the time that kid wakes up in the mornings until, basically, he goes to bed at night, I am solo. The Army has made me a hypothetical single mother (more or less). Except I'm a "single mom" who works full time and has to find that balancing act that I don't really seem to be finding. M is completely helpful when he is home, and I know that the situation can ALWAYS be worse. But on top of that, M has gotten pretty serious about submitting his Warrant Officer packet, which means that should be be accepted (finally) in the first half of next year, then we are facing 11 months of him being gone. Financially, it  makes more sense for me to stay put, keep working & get the house ready for a possible PCS. If he DOESN'T get accepted, then we are facing a deployment the second half of next year.

Can I do that pregnant? Or with a second child? While working full time? I don't know.

As it stands, I really don't know what I want. I know that M truly wants a second child and I know that if I said no, one is enough, he would go with it because he loves me. I know that we would be happy as a one child household. Lucas is AMAZING and truly the light of our lives. That kid brings both of us so much joy & happiness. But I also can't see myself taking any time away from him right now. I am not sure if I am ready for that yet. And then again, I'll be 32 in just a matter of a few weeks (eeek.) so time is kind of ticking.

I just don't know. Right now, nothing is pointing me one direction or another. I don't know what I want, and I hate keeping M waiting on me to figure it out.

All I know is that right now, my life is a huge clusterfuck of clusterfuckery. And I have NO CLUE which direction to turn. Not having my shit together? Beyond frustrating.