Ninapintasantamaria's Blog

{December 23, 2009}   Anyone ever seen…

“Where the Heart Is” with Natalie Portman? Well, I’ve seen the movie and read the book (of course) and although the book and movie differed in details, it was pretty close in essentials. In the movie, this girl has bad luck with 5’s. She gives examples of why and I’m not gonna go into that here, but yesterday, we were given change at Wal-Mart for $5.55. Just like the movie. WoooooOooooOOOo, scary! Not! But I found myself thinking about it, and how I’ve been waiting for the next shoe to drop for so long. Well, I’ve got my little miracle now, so maybe that’s over with. Yes, we’re still poor, yes, we’ve got problems like everyone else, but now I have what I wanted. I hope everyone else gets what they want this year as well. Merry Christmas!

P.S. The MIL is coming here with the stepson. We’ve decided to take it one day at a time and heavily supervise visitation and see where that gets us. Safety is still my numero uno concern, but I figure barring clubbing both of us with a baseball bat, the safety issue isn’t gonna get past us. I’ll just have to put my foot down with the MIL. She started already the night she came to the hospital. Fletcher was under the lights and I couldn’t hold him to calm him down, so I gave him a dum-dum. Which he can now take or leave, but it works for my purposes. She stated “You ain’t gonna use that thang all the time, are ya?” I (as politely as I could, which for me is saying something) explained that sucking soothes, and since I can’t soothe him, he gets a dum-dum. *reining temper in harshly, since I’m hormonal and bone tired* I was too tired to throw anything at her, like I said before. If she starts on Christmas, I swear I’ll ruin her holiday.

{December 15, 2009}   I am the walrus.

My husband brought me breakfast in bed yesterday morning.
I’ve lost 19lbs in 6 days.
My baby is the most beautiful baby ever.
He is also a Boobie Pig. Quite skillful for only being 6 days old. (And yes, he snorts. It’s hysterical.)
My entire family dotes on him!
I didn’t kill my MIL. (Although, the jury’s still out. May have to reserve punishment for later.)
That is all.

{December 13, 2009}   Sooo….tired.

Well, he was a bit jaundiced when we left for home, but everyone assured me that he didn’t look abnormally so. Yeah. Let me know how that works for ya. Anyway, our first trip to the pediatrician went well, everyone fawns over him, so they’re like, my favorite people. His bili level was up, so we had to return to the hospital and he got his first suntan. Just overnight, which is extremely short, compared to some stories I’ve heard. The levels are coming down steadily, so the ped released him tonight. I was by myself all day, but Mom stayed with me last night, thank God. My husband felt so bad about going back to work, but like I told him, we gotta have a house to come home to, so he’s doing just what he should. He couldn’t do anything if he was there anyway, at least I was feeding him! Oh, yeah, does anyone know if breastmilk is supposed to look like it has butter on top of it when it comes out of the fridge? That’s what mine looked like tonight. Murrrmmmm. Anyway, we’re home now, and I’m so tired, I’m surprised I’m able to put words together that sound like the English language. Going to bed, after feeding the offspring. Oh, and the MIL’s first visit ended without bloodshed, but probably only because I was too tired to throw anything at her. Hmmmm. More on that later.

{December 4, 2009}   A Very Merry Un-birthday

Well, I had my first false alarm today. I went to work, as usual, and about the middle of the day, I felt um, wetness. I went to the potty, took care of business, and still felt trickling. So, I called the boardrunner (who sounded an alarm like the cavalry, apparently) and she sent me relief. I was just gonna quietly leave and drive myself to the hospital (I know, one hospital to another), but no. All of a sudden, 84000 people were getting me a wheelchair, making me sit, telling me to call my husband, etc. As if I wouldn’t have done all those things anyway, but I didn’t need a audience! Anyway, got to L&D, and they hooked me up, my bp was up a bit, and I’ll be damned, but I was contracting! I couldn’t feel them, really, just crampy type stuff. So, I sat there for 3 hours (and didn’t get any lunch, mind you) and got sent home. They checked me, and I’m still 2cm, and I guess the trickly stuff was mucus plug, maybe? I don’t know. And do you know, after all we talked about, who was the first person my husband called? Yeah. His mother. We are not amused. I have been instructed to put my feet up, rest, and report to the OB Tuesday, unless I start to feel funky. Then I’m to show up Monday. Oh, and I’m still contracting every few minutes.

{November 5, 2009}   What a day.

Ok, yesterday was the one year anniversary of my original due date. I didn’t notice really, cause I was working all day. Today, I was talking about ppd with a girl who went through it after her baby was born. She talked about how scary it was and that she was ashamed of having to walk away from her child due to frustration. I told her about my anxiety at my lowest points, and how I had to avoid Thanksgiving last year cause I wasn’t ready to meet my nephew and just broke down. Started sniffling. Got worse. I still feel guilty about not being able to face a 6 lb baby who’s the sweetest thing on the planet. (I figure mine isn’t here yet, so he’ll be numero uno till then.) I still get teary eyed thinking about how I was holding him at Easter and had my nose buried in his hair trying not to cry. Just one of those emotional kind of days, ya know. Well, fast-forward to the last case of the day. I finally got fed up with the skirt and vest lead that I was wearing for the C-arm cases and grabbed 2 lead aprons and just wore them front to back/back to front. It was lighter than the skirt and vest combo I’d had on, and felt easier to move in. Well, the PA asked if she could have one of them. I just looked at her. Then she said “Well, you’re wearing two.” Yes, I replied. “Trust me, your baby’s fine.” I had to grit my teeth and forcibly restrain myself not to say “You make one helluva lot more money than I do, why don’t you effin’ get your own?” and burst into tears. I managed to hold all of that in and look straight ahead and gave up the lighter lead apron for a heavier one. She said that her spinal defect thanked me, cause it hurt her back to have to wear the heavy ones for long. *breathing deeply through nose, trying not to lay into her* It all made me realize how tightly wound I really am about all of this. I managed to get through the next few minutes tear-free and just quietly explained that my thyroid had reacted badly to it, and I just wasn’t taking any chances whatsoever, not even cleaning my own bathroom for fear of inhalants. I’m sure I was giving her the ‘I don’t give a shit’ look the entire time, cause she started to backpedal and explain how she talked about it with her OB when she was pregnant and that the 1st 20 weeks were the most important time to worry about it, etc, etc. I just told her (as politely as I could) that I understood that I was a bit neurotic. She then said “Well, after all you’ve been through, it’s understandable.” By this time, I’m sure I was giving her the ‘fuck off’ look, cause she stopped talking and didn’t mention it the rest of the case. I’m chalking this up to pregnancy hormones, cause under normal circumstances, I like this girl a lot. I just found her attitude condescending, and again, found myself wanting to say “Yours came out perfect the first go round. You have no idea how I feel, and you don’t understand one bit at all!!!!” *deepbreathsdeepbreathsstavesofftears* Which, like I said, demonstrates how tightly wound I really am, cause there was nothing I could have done different to have had a different outcome the first time, at all. There was nothing anyone could have done. And I don’t know that she didn’t have any losses, or anything else. And she’s normally very kind and considerate and ultra-sensitive to other people. So I’m pretty sure it was just me and my hormones making me nuts today. I’m really glad no one decided to fuck with me today. I might have ended up on the news, for real this time.

Oh. Yeah. The MIL has been invited to the baby shower on Saturday. Yaaaay. Bring out the pompoms. Anyway, YCU asked me if I’d invited her, and I said ‘Noooo, I didn’t think you wanted me to.” He said that ‘well, it was his mom, ya know, and’ …. so now she’s invited. I don’t know if she’ll come, but just…ugh. I’m not sure I’m up for this, especially as the hubby will be sleeping cause he has to work that night. He also hasn’t had the ‘come to Jesus’ meeting with her or my stepson. I want the boundaries set now. I told him I didn’t care if he had to write it down and read it to them, but it had to come from him, or it would be completely ignored. I won’t be undermined, defied, or made to be the bad guy. All purchases need to be approved prior to gift-giving event, and there will be no unsupervised time, due to other pre-existing issues that are preventing the stepson from living here with us, and the fact that she’s crazy and inappropriate, and does things without asking and just generally overstepping. She is not to ‘drop by’, bring the stepson by or otherwise intrude herself without calling first, cause YCU and I have agreed there is to be no contact without both of us present. Until he has this discussion, I’m just gonna be leery of the whole situation. I don’t know any other way to handle the situation. I’ve got to protect my child. I also have to mark territory. If he wants me to piss on her shoe, I can do that, but it would really be easier if he would just grow a pair and deal with his own mother. If he makes me do it, he won’t like the way it’s handled.

{October 24, 2009}   Well, to catch everyone up.

Well, I didn’t get the job, because they’d closed the interviews. But all is not lost. They’re doing a lot of re-structuring in the next year or so, so maybe I can apply for board-runner(charge nurse) or coordinator for some other service. Today is my 1st baby shower, so I’ll be leaving to go to that soon! I’ll update with pictures later. I’m officially vaccinated for the flu and H1N1. It was that or have to wear a mask at all times (while I’m at work) for the next 6 months. I can’t breathe unless the temperature’s cool in those masks, so no. I’ll just get the shot. Just working and watching my belly dance! Yes, he’s all over the place. People at work are fascinated by my belly. I don’t mind if people touch my belly, just please ask me first! I wanted to go hose off in bleach after one of the doctors touched me one day. No news on the Jackass Dr that hollered at me. They may not be allowed to tell me, but as I am directly involved, I wish they would. YCU found a job working nights, but it may work out that I won’t have to rely on the SIL as much as I thought. She’s great. If anything ever happens between my brother and her, I’m keeping her and sending him back to Costa Rica (where she’s from)! She totally makes up for my MIL who’s just crazy. The job he found doesn’t make much money, but it’ll take care of his child support and help out a little bit, and I can take call and work a little extra here and there to make up the difference. So, in other words, I’m feeling better about our financial state. I’m surprisingly not as stressed out this week. I think it was just a culmination of everything at once that was making me neurotic. Yes, I’m much more zen this week. I’ll take that.

{October 11, 2009}   Christmas

I’ve never in my life known the countdown to Christmas this early. In case you didn’t know, there’s 10.5 weeks left of the shopping season. In 10.5 weeks, I’ll be a mom. (I’m a little scared/intimidated/apprehensive.) I’ve told everyone that as far as the shopping season goes this year, I’m gonna be fat, tired, and out of breath. Sooo, everyone gets to hold a baby while I sing “Away in a Manger.” Last year, everyone got to come to my house and flush the toilet while I sang “Jingle Bells!” I think this year’s gift is an improvement over last year’s, don’t you?

I’m starting to get nervous. Something’s gonna happen. Another couple we know just gave birth to a baby girl, and I predicted before she ever went to the hospital that she’d have to have a C-section. I predicted that another couple would have a girl. So, I’m nervous. It’s just going too well, ya know?

In other news, we’re going to my husband’s hometown for a court date with his EB over the child support. Again. He got a summons for “non-payment of child/medical support.” Well, he’s got receipts and check stubs contradicting that, and the state of TN’s child support website shows he’s been paying extra to catch up. And, she’s cashed some of the checks. So she can kiss our collective asses. That summons made him sound like a criminal. I just don’t want to go and announce that I’m pregnant. The first thing she’ll do is get on the phone to my stepson and ask ‘So, what do you think about having a new little brother?’ I don’t need that. He doesn’t need to know yet, at least not before my husband talks to him and my MIL first. I want the ground rules set before he gets here, ya know? Probably stupid, and over controlling, but I just want FB to have as little contact with my MIL and stepson as possible. The whole thing is giving me goosebumps. Along with almost making me physically sick. I can’t wait till the child support’s finished and we never have to deal with any of them ever again. (My husband’s words, not mine, but I fully support the sentiment.)

{September 21, 2009}   Just now…

the Ex-Bitch and his mother are blowing up his phone. It kills me that it makes me so nervous my adrenaline kicks in. They’re probably sitting at the MIL’s house right now scheming. What the hell makes them think we’d want to talk to her (Ex-Bitch) now that we have no reason to? We’ve been doing the happy dance that we’d never see/hear from her again. I told my husband to send his mother an e-mail telling her to lose his number, and to pass on the message. She’s probably figured out that she can’t afford to pay child support to my MIL and still feed her fat ass, so now she’s consented (most graciously) to accept him (my stepson) back, because he’s a cash cow and her other little yard child has a daddy that’s broke because he’s disabled and won’t work. Piece of shit. Sorry, did my prejudices come out right then? I would never deny anyone who truly needed help, but he’s got two arms and two legs and ten fingers and toes. He could find something to do. He’s not mentally challenged, he’s depressed. And they make medication for that, last time I checked. But I digress.
And another thing. Why is it that coupons only come in the mail when you need something but can’t afford it? That sooo gets on my nerves, but I’ll admit to being just the teensiest bit agitated at the moment. It always seems that whenever we’re broke, there’s a sale on stuff we need, and we can’t even afford the sale price! AAaaaaargh!

{September 13, 2009}   Finally got my meds.

After 3 trips in as many days. I’m definitely changing pharmacies. Maybe they were afraid that the infidels would blow up the pharmacy if they didn’t give me the drugs that day, I don’t know. What I do know, is I had no idea how dependent I’d become on the PNV’s stool softener. I was very relieved when I got them back. 😉 Anyway, went to dinner last night with my sister. She and my husband are very fond of sushi. Even if I wanted sushi, I couldn’t eat it, but don’t worry, when you’re with me, there will always be more sushi for you. Ick. That doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel about fish in general, much less raw ones. Makes my skin crawl. So, my poor husband paid $15 for an AYCE buffet, for me to eat General Tsao’s chicken, Jello, Strawberries, Coconut clusters, and Ice Cream. I know. I eat like a child. I do NOT eat seafood, in general, (have tried lobster, but they’re not putting that on a buffet) and haven’t eaten so much as a fish stick since I was about 6. I told him that the next time he wanted sushi, to call my sister and they could have a date once a month. Have at it. I’ll be perfectly content (and goosebump free) all by myself at home eating mac and cheese. My husband is very adamant that our child isn’t gonna be ‘weird’ like me about food. Fine, I say. He then tries to tell me that I’m gonna have to eat the weird shit to get the kid to eat it. Nope, I say. And why not? Because. Mommy’s allergic. To anything that tastes icky, has a weird texture, or is just plain gross. I can’t wait for that standoff. I’m gonna go in the other room, enjoy my mac and cheese, and cheer my kid on from the sidelines! After we ate, we came back to our house and watched “17 Again” with Zac Ephron. He’s just the cutest thing. And this movie was very sweet and romantical. I liked it.

My stepson’s birthday is this upcoming weekend. It’s gonna be at my MIL’s house. Yay. I’m soooo excited. Can you hear the sarcasm through the computer screen? I knew you could. I told my husband I didn’t want to go. I don’t want my stepson knowing about the baby, and I don’t want my stupid MIL to walk up and start asking questions to tip him off. AND I just don’t want to be in the same house with my MIL. *sigh* My husband, of course, wants me to come. Told me I was just making excuses. For what? Not wanting to end up on the news? Not wanting my stepson with “problems” knowing that we’re having a baby? Not wanting my MIL to spill the beans cause she doesn’t have a discretionary bone in her body? Not wanting to confirm that my husband (as usual) wasn’t as clear as he thought he was in those instructions to my MIL? Oh yeah, and not to mention, I look preggo in every outfit I own now. There is no denying this. What exactly am I making excuses for? I’m getting a bit worked up. Maybe I need more meds.

{August 25, 2009}   How ya feelin’ today?

Fat. Huge and fat. 22wks, 5days, fat. Which is stupid, cause not only did I do this to myself, I knew what I was in for ahead of time. I’m just still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I’m supposed to be excited about it. *sigh* Today, I had another OB appt. His FHR was 148bpm, and he was measuring (by abdomen) 22ish weeks. Which is perfect. On the doppler, Dr M. said it sounded like he was having a party. He was forming his own conga line, I think.

In other news, my cousin is having a girl. She’s only a month or so behind me. She’s the one who has PCOS and has been trying for like 5 years. I’m so excited for her! She’s been so discouraged, so I’m glad things are going well so far. My MIL keeps emailing asking for paperwork for my stepson. Oh, yeah, did I tell you? He’s living with her now. Which is better than where he was, but the way she went about it was the family felony I was telling you about. The poor kid has enough problems that he doesn’t need to be around my son anyway, but my MIL should never have gotten involved until we asked her. I’ve told my husband, and he says he agrees, that she’ll never have unsupervised time with Fletcher. He was angry at first, but he’s lived with her crazy, inappropriate bullshit so long, he doesn’t know any better. She manipulates, he falls for it, that’s the crux of their relationship. As best I can tell, he still hasn’t explained what the boundaries are to be. He can be so avoiding sometimes. I think he’s probably waiting till she does something stupid and then expects me to handle it, rather than being proactive and letting her know ahead of time what will and won’t be tolerated. If you see me on the news around Christmas, you’ll know what happened. Anyway, she keeps requesting his birth certificate, which we have a copy of, but we’ve moved a couple of times since then, so I’m not sure where it is. Why can’t she just go downtown to the Hall of Records and get it herself, like I did? She really can’t be so stupid as to think nothing’s wrong. Surely she doesn’t think she did the right thing and we’re the crazy ones, right? Oh, that life-altering information she withheld was the whereabouts of my stepson. We tried for 8-10 months to find him and get in touch with his mother and couldn’t find him. She (the MIL) knew where he was the whole time and kept it from us because, she said, the ex-bitch told her she’d run off with him and we’d never see him again if she told. Probably the reason EB told her this was that she was in contempt of court and knew that my husband had a say in the proceedings if he could be contacted. Yeah. It’s a hot mess. I know. I married myself into a Jerry Springer family. I’ve said before that my husband was the only one of his family to evolve past neanderthal. I’ve tried for so long to let my husband handle things and set boundaries, but this has got to stop. I won’t have my son involved in this. If I have to, I will. It’s coming down to that, I can see the writing on the wall. I just hope it’s not in the blue crayon they’ll give me at the loony bin.

Update: My head hurts. I really wish the barometric pressure would stop changing. My sinuses are screwed up enough without all that pain. I think tonight’s gonna be a benadryl kind of night. After I make fried chicken, cornbread, mashed taters, peas, and corn, that is. I didn’t thaw that chicken all day for nothing.

et cetera