That La Kid

wishin' an' hopin'!

room to grow

I don’t usually like to overwhelm you with two posts in one day, and odds are I won’t be able to think of anything to write about tomorrow because I talked your ear (eyes) off today.

I worked on the nursery before we left for Charlottesville on Friday and just can’t wait to show you how it’s going, although a smart Wendy would wait for the big TA-DA in a week or so when it’s done.

It was a big help for me psychologically to get something going.  I feel less depressed.  I’ve been complaining this whole time, “geez, if only I had a dresser!”  But now, I’m all, “Well, there’s nothing wrong with his outfits hanging up in the closet…”  So we have an adorable, practically empty, dresser.

BUT I STILL LIKE HAVING IT!

I can’t wait to pick up the matching one and the toy box.  And the crib.  And, hey, I need to finish sanding and repainting the changing table that we bought waaaay the heck back in February.

But back to my little success story… most people buy a set of stuff that’s beautifully coordinated and create nurseries that look like catalog pages.  (I’m talking about you Kinsey Parham! …not that you’ll read this.)  I’ve always had trouble with this.  Let’s say I pick out that adorable Baby Simba jungle motif that’s out right now.  Well, then where do Mickey and Goofy go?  Most toys are brilliant primary colors, and I want them to look like they have a home in Mr. Happy’s room.  I’ve tried really hard not to be all matchy-matchy, but to keep it coordinated.  Let’s see how things are going…

Leave a comment »

“…and ev’ry last inch of me’s covered with HAIR!”

I am giving Gaston a run for his money on levels of testosterone.

(Incidentally, wasn’t the Beast ALSO completely covered with hair?  Just sayin’.)

From Wikipedia:

Waxing is a way of semi-permanent hair removal which removes the hair from the root. New hair will not grow back in the previously waxed area for two to eight weeks, although some people will start to see regrowth in only a week.

Try 3 days.  And in 3 days, I am not seeing a little, “oh, yeah -looky there… some hair is starting to grown back in.”  It’s like that movie “The Santa Clause” when Tim Allen shaves, lets out a sigh of relief, and then his full white beard grows right back.  I am wondering what it would look like if i just let it go.  If I just didn’t touch it, would I turn into Teen Wolf?  Some of the hairs are dark brown, some are red.  I bet I would have a very pretty auburn beard.

I already had PCOS symptoms, which I believe (although I never had the levels checked) includes tons of extra testosterone anyway.

So, I don’t know… I guess I should just wait it out, hideout inside my house while it grows out and then flee to the salon under a bandana on Friday and get it waxed again in time for the shower.  Or should I continue tweezing like a crazy person?  Or should I use the Hair Removal Creme?  Or should I buy a kit and wax at home?  I had used the creme, and (as it turns out) it lasts about as long as the waxing did!  Ha!  The girl at the salon looked at my face and was like, “yeah, shaving is the worst thing you can do…”  Do I look stupid to you?  I absolutely wouldn’t shave it, ever!  “I tried hair removal creme a couple days ago.”  She did not look convinced.

1 Comment »

wahoowah

I’m not a huge fan of Lord Hardwicke’s.  It’s not my favorite place.  The burgers are like charcoal bricks.  You have to pay extra for fries, they give you chips.  I forget why, but I told Tom to remind me never to get the Club again.  I was very offended once when we walked in 15 minutes before they closed and they wouldn’t serve us.  That just grinds my gears, ask my dad about the fried chicken people on Friday nights when he was trying to pick my mom up after work for dates in high school.  You just don’t do that.  You’re not closed.  I never wanted to go back after that.  You don’t want my money tonight?  Fine.  I won’t give it to you ever again.

My family loves it.  So, we keep going back.  Their pizza is pretty good.  I have to be careful with this gestational diabetes thing.  I ordered a taco salad.  No jalapenos, but since the menu said “ask your server for sour cream or salsa,” I did ask for sour cream.  “What kind of dressing?”  Dressing?  Really?  It’s a taco salad.  “Um, yes, I’d like a drizzle of balsamic vinaigrette…”  What?  I thought sour cream or salsa was the dressing on a taco salad.  I mean, I guess if you’re Lindsay, and eat ranch on anything and everything, well, yeah… I guess you could go with ranch.  I just don’t see ranch and sour cream.  In lieu of ground beef, they put chili on it.  It was different.  Not bad, just different.

I guess I just do not understand the things that they do.

I had a good weekend, though.  We went to Maryland to see Tom’s mom before she leaves for Texas and she went shopping with us at Buy Buy Baby.  I found the small world swaddling blankets that I LOVE live and in person!  I was able to hold them, and eventually buy them – which I thought I’d have to do online.  I am irritated that I didn’t have a 20% off coupon (they’re a branch of Bed, Bath and Beyond) but so, sooo happy to get those things.  Overpriced, but I love them.  We also saw a red dragon humidifier that I LOVE and it IS available at Target ($10 less!), so I put him on the registry.

I need to do serious research on breast pumps and strollers.  I like the pattern on the stroller that we picked, but it’s huge and bulky.  It comes with the infant carrier, you know, a travel system… and I feel like those are mandatory.  I’m open to suggestion on that.  As far as breast pumps, I’d say more than, “open” to advice – I desperately need help.  “…I’m supposed to attach this contraption to those and do what now?!”  I’m not all that into nursing, but I do like saving money.  My plan was to pump and bottle it.  I’m sure for a while there I’ll just be pumping it straight into the kid.  No sense washing bottles or getting out of bed and going down to the kitchen to get a bottle… too much hassle. BUT at some point, I’ll be pumping regularly?  I hope?  They say the handhelds are more for occasional use.  I guess I’ll need to pump at Disney World in December so Lil’ Happy can stay in the hotel with Grandma some times.  Right?  Help.

Lindsay finished helping (i.e. creating in their entirety) with the shower invites.  They look amazing!

Did you know UVA is playing Penn State the day before my shower?  Crap.  Kind of rains on my weekend getaway parade.

I forgot about football.  When we got married, I was diligent about picking a weekend that wasn’t a game weekend.  There was only one such weekend in the fall, and one of my bridesmaids was already scheduled to be a bridesmaid in another wedding the same weekend.  We tied the knot in December after all.

Anyway… if it’s not one thing, it’s another.  There’s no game the weekend of the 15th or 22nd, but Lindsay has something else to do on the 15th.  Haley’s birthday is the 22nd – not to mention I’ll be at 38 weeks, and from what I understand, at that point it could be any minute.  So – the nursery needs to already be ready already.

I worry I waited too long!  Everything I read said guests would be miffed if I had it too early – but now I’m worried it’s not going to come together here at the last minute.  Aiiiiiya!

AND… it doesn’t help that we thought we were pregnant countless times and it turned out to be my imagination AND I look about as big now as I did when I had Mr. Nasty.  Like, I think if you saw me on the street you’d say to yourself, “Hmm… is she pregnant, or fat?”  The size of the Happy bump is comparable to the size of the Nasty lump. In some ways, I’m still not convinced that we actually are pregnant.

Although I never had to pee this much with the cyst.

P.S.  Strawberry shortcake and a handful of VA peanuts for breakfast, and my blood sugar was in good shape.  106 and it needs to be under 120.  Not whole wheat, but it’s nice to know I can eat it and survive.

Leave a comment »

lately

It’s been a busy couple of weeks.  No progress on Little Happy’s room or anything.  At this point we’re just trying to get out of the old house.  We’ve got one week.

It’s been a rough few days.

We bought a house, closed on 7/27 and have to be moved out of our rental by 8/18.

I don’t have gestational diabetes per se… but my numbers are elevated.  So I’m diligently trying to figure that whole mess out.

Tom went to Dallas last Thursday and Friday, so in addition to be pregnant and having to work on the old house by myself, I was super-duper depressed at being alone.  There’s nothing in the new house to eat.  So, I had to go to the store.  Everyone I know who has a pet can just walk out the door and go to the store.  Not us.  We have to dog-proof the whole house.  Close all the doors to all the bedrooms…  Put boxes on the couch so she doesn’t jump up there and cover it in fur…  Move anything that’s edible higher than 5 feet off the floor…  It’s exhausting.  I just want to be able to go to the freaking store without having to turn my pantry into Fort Knox.  I just want things to be easy.  I just want my life to be simple!

So.  I put the dog in the garage.  I prayed she wouldn’t crap in the garage – because I’m still nauseous all the time and didn’t want her sh*t to make me throw up.  Still, I bought clothespins at Walmart so I could put one on my nose if she did poop and figured we could use them at the baby shower.

It started raining when I went into Walmart, when I was ready to leave it was a gosh-darned MONSOON.  I got soaked, despite the umbrella (“…big ol’ fat rain.  Rain that flew in sideways…”)  I looked like a drowned rat.  Aaaand I slipped in the parking lot.  Stubbed my toe.  I’ll live.  My super-long second toe kind of folded and saved the rest of me from going down, but it got cut pretty bad and hurts like a mug.  Added injury to the insult of being soaking wet, and lonely, and sad, and frantic about Jasmine.

At home, of course there was sh*t in the garage, which infuriated me.  Of course.  Just because I DID NOT NEED THAT IN MY LIFE AT THAT MOMENT.  So, okay… fine.  I can pick up poop.  I mean.  I’m having a baby.  Me an’ poop are about to get real friendly.

But geeeeeez… do I hate dog poop.

So, I open the clothespins and they don’t fit on my GIGANTIC, HUGE, ENORMOUS, TITANIC nose.

I stuffed a paper towel up my schnoz and picked up the crap, put it in a bag and cracked the garage door so I could throw it out on to the driveway and throw it away when it’s not raining cats and dogs.  Oh!  And speaking of rain/dogs… Jasmine decides she’s out.  She’s gon’ bounce.  She peacin’.  So, she runs out of the garage into the rain.  Nice little plus.  Like my evening wasn’t already awesome… now I get to go find a wet dog.

JASMINE!  WHY YOU SO DUMB!  WHY YOU RUN OUT INTO STORM!

I don’t get it.  I’ll be damned if I’m going out there.  I yelled and she came back.  I yelled at her to stay and went inside to get a cup of water the flush out the pee that she also made for me while I was gone.  Come back out – she’s gone again.

SUNNUVA!

I called her again and she came back.  WTF, Jasmine?!  It. Is. RAINING.  Stay in the garage… if for no other reason, because I JUST told you to.

WHY YOU SO DUMB?!

This happened every time I went in to get another cup of water.  By the time the pee was flushed out into the rain I was ready to just shut the door and leave Jasmine out there.  I didn’t.  I called her back into the garage from wherever the heck she was.  I stood by her bowl and watched her eat the food that had been there since I left.  (If you don’t know this dog, she loves to eat.  We pour the food at dinner time, she eats it.  Interesting, huh?  Leave her in the house and she will eat anything within those 5 feet of ground level.  Leave her in the garage with a full bowl of food and she doesn’t touch it.)  Poured her some water.  Stood there while she drank it.  Went in the house, told her to get the F away from me, and I finally got to eat something.  Finally.  Sat in the kitchen and cried and ate “dinner,” a Lean Cuisine.

I was beginning to think Tom had forgotten about his wife.  It was about midnight, Texas time.  So… clearly he’s having more fun than I was.  Whatever.  I’m going to bed… Jasmine was finally dry, but I didn’t want her near me and she knew it.  She got as close as she thought she could safely, which was the landing halfway up the stairs and eventually outside my bedroom door.

Tom called at about the same moment I gave up on him.

Maybe none of it is a big deal, but I FEEL depressed.  So, I FEEL like it’s a nightmare.

Tom got home and we decided that we’re never doing that again.  Ever.  That was stupid.  Lil’ Happy and I are going next year.

The screen on my laptop, my only means of communication with the outside world, went black on Tom’s first day away – JUST as I was opening photoshop to create Baby Shower invitations.  I also have someone WAITING for me on Etsy, and no way to create a listing.  Our shower leaks.  The washing machine stopped working.  The ceiling fan and light in our bedroom turn on and off at random.  And oh yeah, we have a house to move out of.  Oh yeah, and my nose is huge.

Friday night – Tom was finally home!  I met him at the door.  It was like in the movies where they guy has been over seas fighting Nazis for 9 months.  We just wanted to be together.  We drove to get food at 11:30 – not because we were hungry, but because we wanted to drive around and talk and just be together.  Took the Holy Terror with us.  Got home and Tom showed me cupcakes! And presents! We were in bed around 12:30.

At about 1:30 am, his phone starts going off and we both thought it was the alarm.  We were supposed to leave early to go to Virginia.  It wasn’t the alarm, it was the neighbor that lives by the old house.  She said some kid told her he thought our house was robbed.  We got dressed, loaded Jasmine up in the truck that was full of stuff from me moving earlier that day and went to the old house.  The cops were there.  They said the back door was open.  Great.  We went in the front door.  The cop was like, “alright – what’s missing?”  “Nothing.  It looks just as it did when I left this evening.”

Turns out, they had parked the getaway car in front of our house, broke in to a house about 5 houses down and ran behind all the houses in-between with the goods.  But it wasn’t us.  It’s like Tom’s back home and all is right with the world.  Nothing is a big deal.  Everything’s okay.

We were up late.

We went to Virginia for a glorious wedding – but traveling is always tough anyway.  I’ve got this gestational diabetes problem and it’s been tough to find good nutritious food on the road.  Anyway.  Being on the road is just an extra stressor on the existing list of crap that’s going on.  We were both tired from the night before.

It was a whoooole weekend that we weren’t moving.

It was a great weekend.  Great wedding.  Great day at Busch Gardens – although I could not ride a damn thing.

I take that back, I rode the carousel.  Everything else was either too dangerous or part of the Sesame Street Forest of Fun.

As if my list of whiny complaints wasn’t long enough, at the wedding a friend of mine pointed out that my voice is suddenly very deep.  Yes, it is.  Thank you.  I actually find it quite devastating.  Huge nose… growing a beard… voice of Gaston… wedding band doesn’t fit… yes… pregnancy is AWESOME.

Side note: this sounds like me, http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC1770619/, I’d love to know other peoples’ opinions on the subject.  People on various message boards claim the nose thing will go away after I have the baby, but the deep voice bit sounds like a legit issue (that will resolve itself eventually, but an issue nonetheless).  All the stuff about the ovaries sounds like me… just sayin’.  Look at it.

So… yeah.  That’s what’s happening down here.  I’m just kind of waiting for this pregnancy thing to get fun.  At first, I figured it was lame because I was waiting until after my cousin’s wedding to make a big deal about it.  But here it is a month later and I’m still miserable.  I don’t feel special!  I’m not glowing!  I’m just… kind of… blubbering.  I’m tired.  I’m fat.  I’m sad.  Projects are not getting done.  The house is a mess.  I was looking forward to the baby shower because that’ll be fun… show off my new house, you know?  But like, people have a problem with it because I want it to be at my house in Charlotte.  That’s really getting to me for some reason… like, making them unhappy is completely filling me with anxiety and irritability.  There really just aren’t words to express my feelings about that.  I can’t imagine any of the complainers being like, “oh – you know what, I’m going to have my baby 4 hours from home because that’ll be easier on Wendy,” but that’s what I’m doing for them.  (Not just for them, I like the doctor, too – but if you ask, “wow, why are you having the baby in Cville?”  First thing out of my mouth is, “Well, my whole family is there.”)  And they can’t come here, to my home for a shower, so I can nest for one f*cking minute before I have to move to Charlottesville for a month – away from Tom, and we’ve seen how well that worked out – and live as a guest, out of a suitcase while I have this baby?!

Buuuuut…. trying to be optimistic.  I don’t know.  Trying.  Sorry if you wanted a fluffy entry about magic baby fairy dust.  Tom makes me feel better.  We tried for so long.  This is our little miracle.  I’m hoping it’ll be a whole different story when he emerges from… my… gosh… I do not want to think about that right now.

4 Comments »

not to keep bringing it up

One thing I am noticing about being pregnant, moms LOOOOOOVE to talk about their birth stories.  (Don’t traumatize me.)  Well, I’ve got one for you.  (Let me traumatize you.)

I’ve said that 2 weeks after surgery I was at Disney World.  I was thinking of my anniversary, December 16th being 14 days after I checked out from the hospital.  You know what?  I can make it sound better than that.  December 2nd, I was at Martha Jefferson.  December 11th I was at Walt Disney World.  That’s 9 days!  Crazy!  I’m awesome!

I suddenly have a new burst of energy thinking about our trip this coming December.  For some reason, I had assumed that I’d basically be on bed-rest for 3 months after giving birth… so how the heck will I finagle an anniversary trip 2 months after the baby’s due date?  So.  Okay.  What?  Like, this is the one year we don’t have dinner at California Grill on our anniversary?  Poor baby.  Can you cope?  It’s the end of the woooorld…

No wait.

I was cut wide open and had a 15 lb. pot roast removed and 9 days after I checked out of the hospital, I checked in to Disney’s Wilderness Lodge!

It was no little cut either!  No little golf-ball sized cyst that was removed with 3 tiny incisions.  No.  Every doctor that I have seen since (and it’s a lot with this pregnancy thing) who sees the (like 10? 12 inch?) scar from Mr. Nasty is taken aback with a gasp and a distinct “WTF” face.  They all ask who did that to me, like I went to a butcher (and it was a pot roast – ha).  None of them can believe it.  I should start carrying around the picture of that bad boy in my wallet.

Boom.

Image

and 9 days later… BOOM.

Image

Look how happy I am!  I could see my feet!  This isn’t a girl who’s on bed-rest or in unbearable pain.  This is a girl on the mend!  This is a happy girl – glad to have that disgusting thing out of her!!!

Tom says Dr. Stadler said that I am one tough cookie.  I like that.  I am.  I can do this.  It might be a slower trip.  The trip last year was slow.  That’s good.  I can relish every moment.  Last December I was feeling like it was a new beginning, and like I had the best husband in the whole wide world.  So optimistic.  So happy.  We were both just over-the-moon excited.  You know, like, maybe this year we’ll be able to get pregnant… finally.

Not much has changed.  Tom is still the absolute best guy in the wide, wide world.  And just think of the “new beginning” that we’ll be celebrating this year.  A brand new life!

Leave a comment »

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, YOU DISGUSTING BASTARD!

YOU KNOW WHAT’S COOL?!  SIX MONTHS (and 2 days, I’m late) AGO, I HAD MR. NASTY REMOVED.  SIX MONTHS AGO TODAY, I WAS AT THE HOSPITAL SICK AND HURTING, BUT THAT THING WAS OUT OF ME!

And today…

SIX MONTHS WITHOUT THE CYST, FIVE MONTHS PREGNANT!!!!!!!!

AND YES, IT’S IN CAPS BECAUSE I AM SHOUTING!

SIX MONTHS AGO I WAS IN THE HOSPITAL HAVING MR. NASTY POTROAST MCGROSSERTON REMOVED, AND TODAY I AM FIVE MONTHS PREGNANT!  WOOHOOOOO!

aaaaaawwwww yeeeeeeeeah!

Leave a comment »

20 weeks

As of today, baby is a banana.  It’s weird to go from mango to banana.  One week, I think we go from, like, acorn squash to cucumber.  The round plump to long and skinny transitions weird me out on the food chart.  I imagine it being round and plump all the time.

Twenty weeks preggo and I’m still at the weight I was when I started.  THANK GOD.  I am obese, so I shouldn’t put on too much.  I think the stats about diet soda are true.  People who drink diet soda tend to weigh more than people who drink regular soda.  It’s true with me.  I know, I know… I am supposed to cut out caffeine.   Actually, I can safely have up to 200 mg of caffeine per day.  I tend to have two Dr. Peppers a day, which is about 70 mg.  I’m sure there is some caffeine in the other stuff I’m taking in (chocolate?) but I think I am safely under the limit.  So, yeah… 20 weeks, and no weight gain.  Feelin’ good.

I am, however, starting to see a bit of a bump.  My sisters tell me it looks WAY different than Mr. Nasty, way cuter.  I got a lot of attention on Mother’s Day, and I don’t really know what to do with that.  For example, the manager at Olive Garden gave all the moms at our table a $10 off coupon and told me to come back and tell her when I knew what we were having.  I was so shy and awkward.  She said,”is it your first?”  I said, “Yes.”  “How are you feeling?”  “Terrified.”

I don’t know how to make myself happy and excited about it, but I suspect it has to do with shopping.  I feel like if I could get a crib, and a dresser, and really start to set up for this kid, then I’d feel better about the whole deal.  Right now I am just bringing another person into my mess.  There’s no sense in buying a crib or assembling a dresser now, when we are moving in (hopefully less than) 2 months.  I have a lot of anxiety about the kind of mom I’m going to be.  Everyone thinks I’ll be awesome.  Everyone but me.  I’ve got a good thing going with my husband.  We went to the Nationwide race last year just because we had the free tickets.  How can we do that with a baby?  We have to get a sitter… and blah, blah, blah.  Our free tickets and night out costs us $30.  We laugh and play and have so much fun when it’s just the two of us.  I don’t want to give that up.  On the other hand, I don’t know why I think things will change so drastically when we add a third to our party.  It’ll just be one more really cool thing we’re experiencing together.

Plus, WE TRIED FOR SOOOOOO LOOOONG!!!  So, what?  Like, now that we’ve made it I’m not sure if I want to go through with it?  Should have thought of that in January.

Ah, January.  Mr. Nasty is GONE.  That huge open cut down my gut is HEALED.  All my parts WORK.  Just thinking about that gets me excited about this whole baby deal.  Three years, nothing.  Cyst removed, FIRST TRY!  In January, we wanted it so bad, and tried so hard.  🙂  Our families are THRILLED.  It’s going to be born in the Year of the Dragon!

But yeah, I have mixed emotions.

***Just realized, thebump.com says cantaloupe, not banana.***

2 Comments »

bad dreams

As of tomorrow, we’ll be 10 weeks pregnant.  Geez, that really doesn’t feel like a lot of weeks.  It’s interesting, because the last time I went this long without a period (September ’11), we scheduled a doctor’s appointment to officially confirm pregnancy and while I waited for Tom to come home from work and take me to the appointment, George showed up.

I remember thinking, “is this what a miscarriage feels like?”  It didn’t feel like much of anything, just overwhelming sadness at losing the fantasy I had created in my mind.  I laid on the couch with my legs up on the back cushions and just prayed and prayed for God to not take this away from me.

I know, right?  Pathetic.  Take what from you?  Your hysterical pregnancy?  Your delirium?  YOUR GARGANTUAN CYST?!  In hindsight, I was like a teenager who thinks her parents don’t know anything.  God’s been around the block – he knows what he’s doing.  I was NOT pregnant… but something needed to be done about that watermelon, Mr. Nasty Potroast McGrosserton.

Fast forward to last night.

I had a dream that I was bleeding.  My reaction was just, “Oh, wonderful.  Here we go again.”  Why would I expect otherwise?  Why did I think it would actually work out this time?  In the dream, Dad and I were driving north on 29 through Ruckersville, and I remember debating whether or not to tell him what was happening.  I was debating on whether or not to go to a doctor.  It didn’t feel like I was losing a baby, it just felt like I had been wrong all along.

Then I woke up.

I was devastated.  Because in THIS universe, I DO have a positive pregnancy test.  In this world, a doctor told me, “Congratulations!”  So for a second there, my dream overlapped with real life.  For a second, I thought I lost a baby that I often forget I really am carrying.

I looked around the room and saw prenatal vitamins on the nightstand.  The positive EPT is still on the bathroom counter.  Wait.  What?  Where am I?  I’m at home.  Period?  No.  Baby?  Yes!

Weeeeird, huh?  Kind of an eerie anniversary.  It’s almost like, “Remember?  Last time you only made it this far.”  This time we’re going all the way.

 

1 Comment »

it’s a secret mission in uncharted space!

No one knows that we think we’re knocked up, so we did a lot of sneaking around to visit the doctor and get a confirmation.

Tom tried to make appointments with a decent doctor here in Charlotte, but the one I picked (based on some online reviews) was not accepting new patients.  I was like, “I just want to know – and we can take it from there.”  So we made an appointment with Ananda at the Charlottesville Wellness Center and were able to get in within the week.  She’s not my favorite, but I know her.  The appointment was Friday afternoon, so we drove up Thursday night, slept at my Dad’s house, had lunch at Chipotle with Matt on Friday and hired Matt to dog-sit for a little while.  To our surprise, Dad never showed up at his house on Thursday night, he slept at MJH.  Our secret was safe.

It felt so good to walk into that ol’ building that is the Wellness Center.  No huge water fountain in a cold slate waiting room with a grand staircase… but everything I am familiar with.  I told Tom it felt good to be home.

So, I peed in the cup and we waited and waited and waited.  My appointment was at 2:45, and we were there early – so by 2:45 I had already submitted my sample and everything.  And then, we waited…  I told Tom I felt like it would be an episode of “The Maury Show.”  Tom, you ARE going to be a father!  There was so much hype, such a build-up.

About 20 or 25 minutes later, Ananda walked in grinning from ear to ear, “Congratulations!”

I told her I hope I remember the look on her face for the rest of my life.  She was so elated.  She said a lot of things.  She said 25% of pregnancies don’t make it through the first trimester, so we should hold off on telling people.  She said she couldn’t believe it.  She got the note from Dr. Stadler (the doc who was elbows deep inside my abdominal cavity to remove Mr. Nasty for those of you who don’t know her by name) and just couldn’t believe we were able to get pregnant already!  She said that she looked at the chart and just thought, “oh this poor girl,” but was so delighted to see that we ACTUALLY ARE PREGNANT.

BOOM BABY.

YEAH.  WHAT.

I’M HAVING TOM’S BABY.  AAAAW YEEEEAH.

I’m proud of myself.  BOOM.  First try.  TAKE THAT, MR. NASTY!  Stick that in my destroyed ovary and fallopian tube and smoke it!

Two positive home tests, and OFFICIAL confirmation from the doctor’s office.

WE’RE PREGNANT!  AAAAHHHHH!

And, as my Valentine from Haley said, there was much rejoicing in the village.

I spent most of the month of January Googling, “how soon after an oophorectomy (or laparotomy) can I get pregnant?”  There’s not a lot of information about when it’s possible.  Most of the results were whiny sissies who recounted how much they were suffering post-surgery and said that they waited many, many months to start trying.  The answer, to anyone Googling it and finding this post, is immediately.

1 Comment »

I have got babies on the braaaaain.  It’s annoying.  I just bounce from Gmail, to facebook, to diaperjunction.com to TCOYF.com.  My temps spiked half a degree… we boned 24/7 since the 6-Weeks-Post-Surgery mark… half a degree… what do other charts look like?  I’ve only been charting for a little while… maybe that’s just my normal temperature range… what about my thyroid… what about my one ovary… I should give myself 3 cycles to see what my body is doing post-surgery, right?  RIGHT?!

I’ve got to get out of here…

Leave a comment »