Baby Deux - Weeks 23, 24, and 25

Oh hey, remember me?  The worst blogger ever?

I actually have a pretty valid excuse for disappearing for almost two weeks; although my back is feeling amazing compared to how it felt a month ago it still isn't perfect and when I sit upright for extended periods of time it hurts like hell.  Like I'm sitting right now in order to type this on my desktop computer...

But any-hoo...viability!!!  That one is pretty exciting!  Basically all it means is if BabyDeux tried to take an express pass through his gestation and high tail it out of my uterus there's a chance he would survive.  He definitely needs to cook a bunch more, but if it happened it wouldn't necessarily end in tragedy.

The heartburn has started.  Sometimes it comes if I haven't eaten in a while.  Sometimes it comes right after I eat.  Sometimes it comes when I'm sitting down.  Sometimes it comes when I'm standing up.  Sometimes it comes when I'm laying down.  It is completely unpredictable and completely shitty.  So I have to make sure I have Tums on me at all times.

I've been having weird insomnia when I fall asleep fine in the evening but then I wake up at like 1 and can't fall back asleep until like 5.  It flipping sucks.Which may be contributing to the fact that I get exhausted super easy.  Yesterday The Sailor and I tidied up the entire house (which was a hot mess from me being hurt for so long) in preparation of a cleaning lady coming today to actually deep clean and I was exhausted by the end of the day.  And it wasn't like I was doing anything intense, I was just puttering around putting things where they're supposed to be!

I actually feel kinda cute right now.  It probably helps that I definitely no longer just look fat and I got some cute maternity clothes, but we'll see how long it lasts.  I'm always jealous of the women who feel gorgeous and feminine throughout pregnancy...I just feel like I'm going through puberty all over again and getting fat at the same time.

Little dude is super active.  He's actually kicked me in the cervix a few times and it's really not cool.  It feels like someone is violently checking to see if you're dilated only from the inside.  Even The Sailor has been able to feel kicks from the outside, but he's not that interested in it.  It actually makes me pretty upset that he really has no interest in my belly; when I bring it up he generally says he'll be excited when he gets to meet him in January...which is great.  But I'd like to have someone actually be excited about this pregnancy with me.  My Dad would much rather talk about W and my Mom was completely disinterested in my pregnancy with W, too so I wasn't expecting much excitement from them.  But I figured since The Sailor would actually be home this time around he would show more interest in it.  On top of that, despite having significantly more local friends for this pregnancy (in case you don't remember I moved from the East to West coast when I was like 5 weeks pregnant with W) no one really seems all that excited.  Maybe I'm just imagining it, but it's almost kinda lonely.

In happier news we started actually putting furniture in the new nursery!!!

Crib - craigslist - $100
Changing Table - Yardsale - $60
Rocker/recliner - Yard sale - $20 then $55 on reupholstering supplies.

The banner and a few other wall decorations I got from Joann's in the teacher section, I got a few things from the Target cheapie section that I'll be using for different projects, and the only big thing left to purchase is a ceiling fan and about a bajillion projects left to do, haha.

The chair is blocking part of the closet, but it's no big deal because I can still easily access one side of it which is all I'll need on a regular basis. There won't be a dresser, I'll organize his clothes in the closet in hanging shoe organizers just like I did (and still do 18 months later) with W. And obviously the random stuff on the windows won't be staying there!

And some "symptoms" that didn't make it onto the collage - apparently BabyDeux is comfortably resting on my bladder because sometimes when he kicks or I sneeze (or laugh, or bend over...) my bladder leaks.  Super fun Not!

But what is super fun is nesting.  I'm not usually a super clean freak.  If the house is a bit messy I'm really not bothered by it.  But we got a carpet cleaner yesterday and I was pee-my-pants-excited (hardy-har-har) watching The Sailor clean our couch.  Then we had a cleaning lady come today to deep clean the house and I've been absolutely giddy about it.I loooooooooove how clean my house is right now.

And  think that's all for right now!  I didn't take a 25 week picture, we were too busy cleaning up the house yesterday...

My Greatest Fear

...is that I'll turn into my Mother.

It's no secret that my Mother is unpredictable, to say the least, and I'm honestly terrified that I will end up being a mother like her.  The fact of the matter is, as horrible is she is when things are bad, she's just as amazing when things are good.  There's just no middle ground with her.  We either aren't speaking or she's showering me with love and gifts.  Exhibit A - my Christmas present from her...

Source

Yes, that is a Coach purse.  The Madison Quilted Chevron Nylon Sophia Satchel.  It costs $368.  It is a very generous gift, and I love it.  But it's just a reminder of how unpredictable my Mother is since 2 weeks ago we weren't even speaking.

And I know that I am equally emotionally unstable, to be blunt.

My emotional state is about as predictable as the weather.  I may be able to tell you there's a storm coming, but until it's over no one will really be able to say how much snow is gonna fall.  And I'm just hoping that since I know and accept this about myself that I won't turn into her.

I don't want my kids to have to worry "which Mom" they will be dealing with on a day to day basis.  Shit, I don't want anyone to have to worry "which Amanda" they will have to be dealing with, and I've always made a conscious effort to recognize my emotional state and react accordingly to it.

The past few days have been pretty tough for me.  Spending Christmas without any family can mess with your head.  And since I'm a hormonal mess anyway, I've been crying stressing about everything under the sun.  It's Christmas and I'm all alone.  We don't have enough money and babies need so much stuff.  I don't want to become my Mother.  How can I be feeling sorry for myself with The Sailor is stuck on a boat in the middle of the ocean?  What if I can't handle a baby and two dogs.  Fuck, what if I can't hand a baby, period.  I feel so fat.  Why the hell am I worrying about what I look like right now, I have way better things to worry about! ...and I could totally keep going, but I'll spare you.  Instead, I'm gonna go continue this pity party on my own with an Italian Ice!

Until next time...

Week 18 - It's a...

I'll give you a hint:

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Yeah, that tiny little arrow...that's pointing to a penis.  We're having a boy.

So now I'm going to be incredibly honest with you guys.  I could ask you not to judge me for how I feel, but I'm sure plenty of you will.  And eff you for that.  Because in my opinion, there are three types of expectant mothers/parents out there...1) They honestly don't care if they have a boy or a girl, they will truly be happy either way.  2) They say they don't really care but they do; they are just liars.  3) The people who openly admit that they really care and they get a bunch of crap from a bunch of people. I'm in group three.

I want a girl more than anything.  Seriously, words cannot describe how much I wanted a little baby girl.  I am a girl's girl through and through.  I am not kidding when I say I won't even know what to do with a little boy.  When I was getting my ultrasound and she got that clear shot of the baby's nether-region she asked if I knew what that was.  I sighed.  She looked at me, almost as if to say, "well, do you?" And I admitted out loud to myself that it was, in fact, a boy.

Honestly, I think I held it together pretty well in that moment.  Literally all of my plans (names, nursery ideas, extra curricular activities, the list goes on and on) were coming crashing down, and I managed to just sit there.  Until the actual doctor came in and the ultrasound lady had to stop what she was doing to show the doc that all the necessary bits were there.  When we got to the genitalia issue, doc goes, "oh good!  This is the first baby boy I've seen all week."  And I couldn't hold back the tears.  I didn't sob or anything (thankfully), but I did clearly have tears streaming down my face.

When I got into the car, I sobbed.  So much emotion just came pouring out of me.  I emailed The Sailor, and all I said was, "We're having a boy.  He's healthy." And I started driving home, crying the whole way.

I had told The Sailor I wouldn't tell anyone else until I knew for sure he had gotten the email.  I did, however, pull myself together enough to send him some ultrasound pictures...

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Isn't the eyeball the creepiest thing you've ever seen?

Once I got a response from him I announced it on Facebook and texted a few friends.

The Sailor was very sweet about the whole thing.  As much as I know he was pumped, he was considerate to the fact that he knew how disappointed I was.  And almost everyone else that I talked to who knew that I had really wanted a girl said something along the lines of, "well, hopefully next time you'll have a girl."  The problem with that is, I'm not sure if I want there to be a "next time."

I had always planned on having two kids, but I really don't think I can go through this again.  The idea of getting pregnant, getting fat, breaking out, and being in physical pain all day just to be told that once again my dreams of a daughter are crushed makes me want to vomit.  And, I can honestly say I don't think I could handle having two sons.

Boys are messy and rambunctious.  Yes, girls have attitude and people say they're more expensive, but I know I can handle that.  I honestly do not know if I can handle boys.  And I'm absolutely terrified.

Then when I tell people that, they all say something along the lines of, "you'll probably change your mind; you're going to love being the Mom to a little boy." But how can they know that?  The honest to God truth is, they don't.  And as much as I'd love to convince myself they're right, I know better.  I grew up in a house with only women (my father moved out when I was 4), I was a camp counselor at an all girls camp, but honestly my interaction with boys is minimal.  I want to go to ballet recitals, not football games.  I want a child I can teach to knit, and sew, and craft in general, most little boys would down right say, "no, that's what girls do."

I have been legitimately torn up over this whole thing.  I have no idea what I want to do with the nursery any more.  There really aren't any boys names that stand out to me.  When I look at baby boy clothes and stuff I can't help but let my eye wander towards the little girl stuff instead.  And I feel horrible for it.

The only person who made me feel even remotely better about it was my Dad.  I knew he would be excited; all he ever wanted was a son and he got stuck with three daughters and two step-daughters.  Poor guys has been surrounded by women his whole life.  As soon as I told him he started joking about teaching him how to smoke cigars and drive an excavator.  Then he remembered I'm on the other side of the flipping country.  And any excitement he had faded away.  Because we both know my Dad really won't get to see the baby that often because it is a long and expensive flight home.

For those first 24 hours, I kept staring at ultrasound pictures trying to get excited again, but it just wasn't happening.

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Alien baby

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He's trying to "raise the roof"

 Now, over two days later, I'm feeling a little better about it, but I've still lost a lot of excitement.  And honestly, I don't think I'll want to get pregnant again.  I really feel like it's a gamble with my emotions that I don't think I can take.  But that's something The Sailor and I will have to discuss further when the time comes.

I hope no one who has a son takes any offense to this post.  It isn't anything against little boys in general, it's more so something against me.  This is just who I am.  I just hope everyone who says I'll get excited again eventually is right, or else the next five months are really gonna suck.  But, on the bright side, I'm at a serious low right now between the shiznat that went down with my Mom and this news, so things can really only go up from here!

Until next time...

I can't forget to share my belly picture for this week.  Remember, to see the whole progression of photos, you can go to the Pregnancy Tab here!

Personal Photo

Fight or Flight

First of all, this will be my second time writing this story.  The first time took 2 days and a lot of tears, but I had done it on my phone and then my phone decided to eat that post.  Thanks a lot Blogger for Android, you're freaking awesome.

Due to the fact that I've already brought myself through the emotional roller coaster of telling this story once, this one probably won't be as "good" of a post.  If it feels rushed, I apologize, I just don't know how deep I can dig to write this all over again.

I've struggled with mental/emotional issues my whole life.  Depending which doctor you talk to, there are about a billion different diagnosis that you may hear, the most popular being bipolar disorder, depression, or borderline personality disorder.  But every single one of them would tell you I have severe generalized anxiety disorder and I'm even lucky enough to have a history of panic attacks.

It wasn't until recently (like, past year recently) that I was able to discover through self examination rather than traditional therapy, that at the root of my "issues" is really a severe self hatred.  I always knew it was there, I just never really thought twice about it.  Everyone says they're their own toughest critic so I assumed it was normal.  I bring "toughest critic" to a new (dangerous) level.  And as hard as it may be for me to admit and accept, it isn't normal to feel the way I feel about myself.

My "issues" surfaced early in high school.  At that point my Mom said it was normal; it was just adolescents.  As things got worse she said I was just trying to get attention.  Never did she admit that there was actually a problem, and to me that translated to she just didn't give a damn.  After one of my worst incidents my Freshman year of college, I was advised by a few doctors that I shouldn't live under the same roof as my Mother, not even for the few short months of summer.  So, when I finished my Freshman year I officially moved out and things were pretty good between us after that.

Fast forward to me eloping, her not speaking to me, then her speaking to me, and coming to visit last week.  I already told the first full day wasn't really good but I guess it wasn't bad either.  Well, the next morning, things got bad.

First thing in the morning we got in a blowout.  It was stupid, but it happened.  We were about to leave for breakfast and she mentions I have dog hair on my jacket.  I respond (as I usually do if people point it out) that I have two dogs, if I tried to get every hair off of me I would drive myself insane.  Then she starts following me around plucking hairs off me making disapproving noises (sighs, tsks, etc.) as she goes.  I ask her to stop, she doesn't.  So I say/yell/beg, "Mom, just stop it!"  And she starts lecturing me on how I can't be so uptight, it isn't her fault I look like a slob.

And I kinda lost it.  She had been picking at me, both mentally and physically, since the moment she got off that damn plane.  I couldn't deal with it anymore.  So I said I was leaving.  I packed my bags, was damn near about to leave and she starts bawling and apologizing and I agree to stay.

That day sucked.  We walked around San Francisco barely talking.

We get back to the house boat and she agrees to rest until it's dinner time.  That lasts all of 20 minutes, and she wants to go shopping in the tourist-y part of Sausalito.  I really didn't want to, but whatever, I didn't want to fight either.  So we head down.  As we were approaching the shops I asked here where she wanted me to park and she responds, "I dunno..." almost like a child would.  So I pulled into a parking lot since that was the simplest option.  Then she goes, "well I'd rather you go find a space on the street!"

At this point I was thoroughly annoyed.  I didn't want to go shopping.  I definitely didn't want to drive around in circles looking for a parking space on the street just to eventually end up having to come back to the lot that I was currently in anyway.  Instead of fighting, I recommended she go shopping while I go back and rest, and when she's ready for dinner she could call me and I would come back.  Well, that didn't work for her.

She starts going on and on and on about how I'm soooooooo depressing and I need to live in the moment and it isn't her fault my husband was deployed and I chose this lifestyle so I couldn't complain (which I wasn't complaining about the Military lifestyle, I was truly just tired)...and on and on and on. And I just couldn't deal with it anymore when fight or flight kicked in.

I didn't have the emotional energy to fight with her.  She clearly does not approve of the life that I've chosen to live, but then again she never really has.  So I told her I was leaving.  She could take a cab to the airport in the morning, I couldn't do this anymore.  And I really couldn't see us having any sort of relationship since she had been nothing but hateful and judgemental towards me the whole time we were together.  She said I needed to find an ATM for her to get cash out, and instead I handed her the cash in my wallet.  Her response is still blowing my mind; she said, "well your Papa (my grandfather) will be hearing about this!"  And I almost laughed as I asked what he would do about it since we've never really been close to my Mom's side of the family.  She says, "it isn't what he will do, it's what he won't."

You see, over the past year, in an attempt to get rid of some of his liquid assets (apparently my grandfather is quite wealthy, and until a year ago I had no idea how wealthy) he has been very generous to his grand kids.  So, she was implying that if I'm not speaking to her, my grandfather will not be giving me any more monetary gifts.  This was supposed to be some sort of punishment.

I can live without gifts from my grandfather.  As much as my mom believes we can't afford to survive on The Sailor's salary alone, we can.  Yes, these gifts are nice, but they're just a bonus to us.  I can't, however, live with the constant disappointment of trying to build a relationship with a woman who I will clearly never get along with.  So I got my things and went out to my car.

In all honesty, I waited about a half hour before I left.  Deep down I was hoping she would come out to stop me, or call, or text...something.  But there was no call, no text...nothing.  That was Thursday evening, and I still haven't spoken to her.

I've talked in detail about the whole thing with my Dad and a few other people.  Honestly, under normal circumstances I don't think I would have reacted so strongly.  But I was exhausted, I'm fucking pregnant (and emotional), and yes, I am having trouble getting used to the Navy life and my husband being gone.  I don't think most people would have held that against me.  But the thing is, the things my Mother says to me, and the way she treats me is not normal.

Knowing that I was self conscious of my pregnancy-acne she still picked at it and pointed it out the entire time we were together.

When I brought up the fact that I hadn't eaten all day (on our first full day together) she basically told me I was going to be a bad mother if I couldn't be prepared for situations like that (even though I had no idea we were going out in the middle of nowhere).

While talking about breastfeeding, her exact response to me was, "Well, Amanda, you really shouldn't count on breastfeeding.  Given your history (referring to my emotional issues in the past) you'll almost definitely have post partum depression...or worse..."

The fact alone that she did not want to see where I'm living is pretty strange.

This whole thing really has me shaken up.  I'm making a conscious effort to get out of my house and do stuff in an attempt to prevent myself from falling deep into a hole that I don't want to go in.  I have cried more in the past 3 days that I have in the past 3 years, and that's including dealing with all the shit after I eloped.  My automatic mental reaction is to say that it was all my fault, I was being depressing the whole time, I am going to be a bad mother if I can't be prepared for situations like that.  But I just have to keep telling myself that it isn't true.

And I may not be the best mother ever, but dear God, I will do everything in my power to make sure that my children don't have to struggle with hating themselves every.single.day of their lives.

Any advice or words of wisdom would be really appreciated right now!

Until next time...

PS - I really just don't have anything to say about week 17 of pregnancy since most of it was just spent arguing with my Mom, so here's my belly picture:

Personal Photos

Pregnancy Week 14 - and a whole bunch of bitching

Mleh.  I feel like a bad Mom-to-be.

First of all, why does it seem like every pregnant woman out there can "just tell" what they're having before a doctor tells them but I have no flipping idea? Seriously, I don't have an inkling in either direction. I don't have dreams where the sex of the baby is obvious in any way.  I don't have any sort of gut instinct.  I seriously have no idea.  But shit, neither did the ultrasound lady at my last appointment!

And on top of that, I don't like being pregnant.  No I haven't gotten sick like some women do (and I feel horrible for them) but I just don't enjoy it.  Yeah, it's cool in the morning when I'm cleaning the kitchen and singing Kings of Leon along with my iPod and I realize The Sea Monkey might be able to sorta hear me since it can hear now (and it's much more likely that a fetus will hear the mother than outside noises).  Then I feel bad for my Sea Monkey cuz I have a horrible singing voice. But I don't like it.

I want my body back.  Really bad.  Sure, it's cool not dieting, but I would start dieting again and get my body back if that were okay.  But its not.  I also want to actually be able to work out.  I have a pretty low resting heart rate, but as soon as I start working out it spikes.  Pre-pregnancy it was not uncommon for my heart rate to sit at around 175 for the majority of a workout.  It was completely normal for it to spike up to the 190s a couple times throughout a workout.  This isn't good for growing fetuses.  Depending on what you read, the general consensus is keep your heart rate around 140 during pregnancy workouts.  For me, that's walking.  Maybe jogging for a few minutes occasionally  Eff that dude! So, I bring the dogs on multiple walks a day, but I want to actually work out.  I want to do a Turbo Fire workout, and sweat, and be short of breath, and feel like I actually accomplished something at the end of it.


I also want sushi.  A nice spicy tuna roll - yummmm.  Then I want to eat a medium rare steak.  Nice and bloody.  And have a Wild Berry Mojito from Applebee's.  And just not worry about every.little.thing that I put into my body.  And be able to go to Starbucks and order a Venti iced coffee with skim milk and mocha syrup.  And drink the whole thing.  Caffeine and all.  And maybe be a little jittery after the fact, but also be super productive for like an hour.  Then take a nap.  Because that's what Starbucks does to me.


And I'd like to be able to take on as many DIY projects I want without people drilling me about whether or not I should be using spray paint.  I do it outside.  With a flipping mask on.  Leave me alone.  And I'd like to be able to go to Home Depot to get some normal paint for a project without almost throwing up then passing out in the bathroom.  Yeah, that totally happened yesterday.  Okay, so I didn't 100% pass out, but I completely blacked out, turned white, got freezing cold but starting sweating profusely.  Thanks hormones, that was so sweet of you. I love sitting on the floor in a public restroom in near tears by myself.

It is completely normal to get light headed or even faint in early pregnancy.  Since I felt better right after, I decided to just take it easy for the rest of the day instead of seeking medical attention.  Plus I have another OB appointment tomorrow, so I'll be able to talk to my doctor about it.


Then, after going through all the things I hate about being pregnant, I feel horrible.  I'm so lucky that we were able to get pregnant with so much ease.  I'm so lucky that I haven't gotten super sick. I realize how lucky we really are.  But that doesn't change the fact that I, personally, don't really enjoy being pregnant.  Maybe I'll feel differently once my belly pops and I look cute instead of just chubby.  Or once my skin clears up completely (it is getting better - whether it's the Proactiv or just the fact that I'm out of my first trimester, we'll never know).  Or maybe once we find out whether The Sea Monkey is a boy or a girl so I can really start planning/decorating/shopping and I can feel more connected to the baby.


Or maybe I'll never feel better.  Maybe I'll just never enjoy being pregnant.  And I'll feel bad about it every step of the way.  But that won't matter once I have the baby (and can workout, and diet, and eat whatever the hell I want).  


Did you love being pregnant, or did you dislike it like me? Any advice at all?


Until next time...

Almost had a Pregnancy Breakdown today...

The Sailor and I (well, mainly just I, lol) decided we wanted to have an NT scan done. In case you didn't know, an NT scan is a completely non-invasive (aka - its just a high power ultrasound) early test for chromosomal abnormalities. It has something to do with measuring the skin in the back of the fetus' neck. I don't know exactly what they're measuring, I'm not a doctor, but I do know it has to be performed between 11 and 14 weeks.

Some people would never even consider having it done. I think that's kinda silly. Even if we find out there is something wrong, we plan on keeping the baby. I just like to be prepared. In my eyes, the earlier you know about an issue, the sooner you can be prepared for it.

Other people would say its silly for me, specifically, to get one since I'm a healthy 23 year old. The odds of an issue like this are pretty slim.  Well, they're also pretty slim with a healthy 20 year old, like my sister back in the day. Yup, my sister was pregnant with a baby who had down syndrome. She didn't have an NT scan, and didn't find out until late in the second trimester. At that point, she and her boyfriend at the time made the decision to terminate the pregnancy. They were in college; they knew they barely had the means to care for a healthy baby, never mind a baby with special needs. That decision killed my sister, so, please don't judge!

Plus, its just an extra chance for an ultrasound! Who would say no to that?

Well, I hadn't heard anything regarding the referral (I have to go see a special doctor off-base for it) so I called the insurance company today.

They never even received the referral request.

I almost died. It takes at least a week for a referral to be processed. I'm 12 weeks today. That would mean if they processed it quickly I would have to get an appointment within a week or I'd miss the window for the scan.

I cried. Once I pulled myself together I called the Ob clinic. The referral lady wasn't there, but I asked to have her please, please, please call me back ASAP since I only had 2 weeks left where I could have the scan and I'm at risk since there's a family history. I think the nurse who was taking my call could tell I was about to fall apart cuz she was super sweet.

When The Sailor got home I told him he had to go kill everyone in the Ob clinic because they fucked up. After I explained what I meant by "they fucked up" he talked me down a little bit. He reminded me we still had at least 2 weeks, which was better than nothing. I just kept saying "if they can't put in an effing referral, how can I trust them to deliver my baby!?!"

I still felt like crying, so I angrily did laundry instead of continuing to yell and just make myself more upset.

Then, the referral lady called me back. She fixed everything.

Yup, she put in the referral, called the insurance to push it through (given the family history) and she even made me an appointment...for Monday! So, I guess I can forgive her for messing up initially (by not putting in the referral right away).

So, not only was my first pregnancy-breakdown completely averted, I get to see the Sea Monkey again on Monday!!!!! I'm excited, and I trust the Ob clinic again...

Did you have an NT scan? Why, or why not?

Until next time...

The Mama Drama Saga Continues...

Oh Lordy you guys. This is not how I wanted to start my week. Originally I was planning to post about my recent Craigslist hunting adventures and my plans to refinish some of my finds. But then the unthinkable happened...my Mom called.

So, this morning I called my mom with no answer - story of my last week. But, seeing as there was this little storm on the East coast this past weekend, I dunno if you heard about it or not...Hurricane Irene (lol, if you haven't heard of it you must live under a rock)...I decided to send her a text message that basically said "hope you're ok post-hurricane."

Well, about an hour after I sent my message, I was about to go through my Google Reader (Monday mornings are the best blog-wise) when my phone rang, and much to my dismay it was my Mother.

I think when I saw her little picture pop up on my cell I experienced my first heart palpatation. I might have thrown up a little in my mouth. I instantly wanted to throw my phone and go hide. But I did the adult thing, and I answered...

(For the purposes of this dialog I am A {for Amanda} and my Mom is M)

A- Hello? (Imagine a normal phone-answering intonation)
M- Amanda? It's your mother.
A- I know Mom, I still have caller ID
M- Well, I survived the storm just fine...

:: cue about 5 minutes of storm related chat ::

M- I just don't understand why you would just take off like this.
A- I don't really know how to answer that, but Mom, I really am happy.

:: cue about 5 minutes of you're-so-selfish lectures ::

M- so is he going to be deployed at all?
A- yeah, he's in school right now and he'll be flown out to the ship once he's done in the end of September
M- when will he be back?
A- the middle of February.
M- so you're gonna be by yourself for all the holidays this year?
A- well, I'll probably celebrate thanksgiving with a few of the other wives on base and I might go to North Carolina for Christmas. I dunno yet though. I am planning on coming home in October though.
M- well you know Sister K is living with me now.
A- yeah, I heard.
M- so you can't stay with me
A- I was planning on staying with Kim (best friend from high school) or Dad.
M- well, don't expect to come to my house, Sister K won't want to see you after what you did.
A- ummmm, ok...

:: cue her going off on how selfish, stupid, horrible in general I am ::

Honestly, I don't know what set her off. I'm not going to repeat the things she said to me because honestly they were just hurtful. I didn't react, I just held my tongue and waited for it to end. By the time she was done (she ended the conversation with "enjoy your life of leisure") I was pretty choked up and it was hard to get out "ok, talk to you later" without crying.

She never brought up the fact that I'm pregnant, and I sure as hell wasn't gonna. Part of me wants to hope that she feels better getting all that off her chest and next time we speak it'll be better, but I'm not that naive. I mean, she basically told me she didn't want to see me if/when I come home.

I texted my best friend from Pittsburgh, Sam, after I got off the phone and just said my mom called. He responded "Uh oh... Did she have anything interesting to say?" I told him what I just told you, and in true Sam fashion he was able to cheer me up when he said "HA! Did you remind her that you have the most functional family in your entire clan right now? hahaha"

It sucks. I cried. A lot. I've never wanted a cigarette as badly as I've wanted it since hanging up (damn you growing fetus!). But life will go on. For now I'm gonna go eat some ice cream (yes at 9 am) and watch Regis and Kelly.

Until next time...

Dear Mom,

I know my choices hurt you, and I can't apologize enough for that.

But I still exist, and I'm still your daughter!

I didn't plan to hurt you with my decisions, it didn't even cross my mind. But what you're doing right now - ignoring me completely - is an intentional jab at me.

You know I'm on the other side of the country, and yet you don't even care to hear if I'm ok or not, and it hurts me more than you have ever hurt me before.

I'm not perfect, and I've never claimed to be, but you're acting as if you don't want to move past this, and you don't want to have any sort of relationship with me. And if that's how its going to be, eventually I'll have to stop calling because that rejection is just too much to handle.

I hope you'll eventually realize that I do still need my mom in my life. I love you.

Love Always,
Amanda

Yeah...that's not a real letter to my mom, I just had to get that off my chest. I told my Dad I'm pregnant this morning and he's shocked, but happy for me, and is just dying for me to make a trip back home (which I hope to start planning once we're more settled here, probably after The Sailor deploys).

Whether my mom ever comes around or not, I just have to remember that there are people out there that love me. I'm lucky to have a Father who is being supportive despite my choices, and  my pseudo-mom, Mama Simms, has offered to fly out when the baby is born. And honestly, I have never met more caring and supportive people than The Sailor's family - they're honestly the best.

I just need to continue to focus on the positive, not the negative, even though that's easier said than done. And even though I'd love to say fuck it and just stop reaching out to my mother, that will never happen. I've said it once and I'll say it again - we may not have the best relationship, but she's still my mom, and I can't just let that go.

And I just wanted to thank everyone who reads my blog and leaves me such supportive comments. You guys are seriously the best - hopefully as time goes on my blog will become less depressing!

Until next time...

I'm afraid...

...that I'll never mend my relationship with my family.

And that in turn my baby will never have a proper relationship with their Grandparents and Aunts.

My father is speaking to me, but I can tell by the tone of his voice that he hasn't forgiven me, but that's better than my mother who won't even talk to me.

Some of my best memories growing up were with my grandparents. Easter at my Nana's house where we would have an Easter egg hunt around the pond in back. Riding bikes up and down the canal with my Pa during summer vacation. Going to Disney World with my Gram and Papa.

And I just feel like I've stolen all those experiences from my baby by making the choices I've made in the past few months. How can you feel like a bad mom before you've even had your baby?

I don't want to take that away from my children but I really don't know how to fix it. I can't go back in time and change how I did things. But I feel like they will never forgive me.

I wrote a letter to my mom tonight, now I just have to get the balls to mail it. Once I suck it up and send it I'll call my Dad to tell him. I feel like that might be the most awkward conversation ever.

God damnit I hate how emotional I've been lately. I'm probably so thirsty because I cry so much (which is quite out of character for me) - I'm losing too much fluids in my tears.

Until next time...

PS - this picture was me when I was about 5 years old. It has always been my Mom's favorite picture of me; it was back when I was her pride and joy, her little star...her baby. It was the picture she chose to put in my senior yearbook when she said she was so proud of everything I had accomplished. I wish she could remember those things, not just everything I've done wrong...

It's lonely sometimes...

This whole life.
All my friends and family (regardless of how much my family tends to suck) are in a completely different timezone. On top of that, The Sailor has to wake up super early to go to the gym, then class, so by the time he gets home he's exhausted. I feel like I barely get to see him, and this is a good time, because he's actually here!  In less than 2 months he'll be gone...until February.
I knew this was how it would be, I guess I just thought I would deal with it better. I'm sure it would be considerably easier to deal with if I wasn't pregnant and in turn super emotional, but that doesn't make it suck any less.
I'm watching Sex and the City and all I can think is, "will I ever be in one place long enough to have a group of close friends like that again?" At least I have my Gabby Girl - not the best conversationalist, but she's great company, and she understands me better than any human I've ever met.
Enough of this blogging-pitty-party, I'm gonna go finish watching Sex and the City, feel bad for myself for a while, and go to bed.
Until next time...
No blog post is complete without a picture, here's one of my favorites of Gabby Girl...