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Shockingly, I am surprisingly okay with the commitment of having a baby. I miss Lauren Conrad more than I miss my night's out.
Perhaps this is just becuase I was ready for this phase of life.
I have often even found that having a baby is an incredible escape excuse. No one questions the choice to "stay in" because the "baby isn't feeling that great" or whatever other BS excuse I can so easily blame on my 14 pound, speechless, bundle of love.
My husband and I have been incredibly and increasingly anti-social over the last couple of years. The infant just catapults us into a completely new realm of staying in. However the baby allows us to no longer feel the need to "go" just because if we didn't it would be rude. Rudeness is practically a way of life at this point. Sorry Emily Post- it's just the way it is. Guilt free "no's" to every R.S.V. and P.
Don't get me wrong- it's great to see a lunch in my schedule once in a while. An evening dinner with just the girls. A morning spent pampering my under-pampered self. But I really don't miss the commitments to bars and parties that require us to wear anything aside from sweatpants after 4 PM on the weekends.
On the flip side- I am seriously considering piling up the debt just to have DVR access- which has suddenly turned into an almost necessity... ALMOST. TV has become extremely important as of late. I have actually even considered writing letters to the networks... to "voice my thoughts" on this or that ( I cannot believe the filth on cable before 7 PM or that SOME shows make me pay a DOLLAR just to catch up on a little half hour comedy ! BUt thanks Bravo for finally getting Hosewives On Demand... sheesh! It's taken long enough! ). I know... big time stuff here. Hard to grasp, isn't it?
So today- another day spent in the 1000 square feet of comfort that has become so part of me that I don't even see the dust.

Re-Set

I keep having to remind myself that I am NOT in prison. Even though I know that some prisoners ARE getting outside more than I am these days ( believe me when I say that). I know getting outside should be or seem easy- but "outside" has taken on new meaning these days. I think it is most evidenced by my plants. Which after three days in the hospital began to look whithered. But with my Mom here got revived but now with my Mom gone again have shriveled back to basically brown leafy remnants of their former growing selves. Sorry future cukes and tomatoes. Sorry you didn't stand a chance. Things have gotten so pathetic that even though watering these said plants requires only a sliding open of the glass doors, I have resorted to writing "WATER PLANTS" on my Very Important TO DO: list- and it's STILL not getting done. I would rather spend THAT five free minutes, apparently, doing just about anything else. I am getting pretty used to the air condition.
There are other things around here that also are getting neglected. Myself for starters. I don't particularly like the shade of pink I chose to paint my toe nails. I stare at it's Pepto Bismol grossness all day- and even all night- and think--- I should change that out. It had looked so pretty in the store. And then it was like "Project of the Century" to get the nails actually clipped, cleaned, preened and painted. It took an entire weekend to do it and I am not even exaggerating on that. So changing it out seems likes a gargantuan undertaking and I could only wish for two free hours of a salon variety pedicure at this point. But really, that seems next to impossible to organize. In due time on that one... due time.
My house has managed to stay relatively together- because I spend virtually every waking free minute trying to keep it that way. I exhaust myself scrubbing the counters and doing the laundry and making the bed ( I don't know why I need to make the bed at this point- considering there is really no "day" or "night" in my world- so it's just a random series of making and UNmaking it ). I will admit, however- that I have let the floors get ahead of me. I don't tell guests that the smudge they see by the couch is actually some spilled breast milk ( DISGUSTING- I SWEAR I keep meaning to clean it up but it never seems to transfer into the hard drive long enough for me to actually go and GET the product, bring it back and actually USE it ), or that the clump of grease on the kitchen floor is from last weeks burger fest ( of which you can still sorta smell the hamburger grease... ewww. ) But really, other than the nasty floors, and the less than average dinners I manage to half-heartedly throw on the table sans any fresh veggies, things are under control there...
Life has become of series of squeezing things into capsules of time, or what we deem 'round here as the "Morning, Afternoon, or Evening Window"... I am okay with it. I am trying to accept a new set of reorganized priorities that I can live with.
There are snippets of time when I look at the baby and think confidently that this is all totally worth it. I keep hearing those snippets of time continue to get larger and longer until one day you can't even imagine life without your child. Until that time, I will wait patiently- or as patiently as I am wired to be- I will serve unhealthy meals and never walk in the house without shoes and paint my toe nails over long weekends when my Mother is here and never EVER plant a garden again- we will watch Bravo for hours on end in our dirty little condo and just be happy waiting.

Excuses Excuses

There has been, obviously, very little blogging coming from me lately. I blame it primarily on two things. The first being an interesting, yet effective money saving venture and the other, well, the other being my new multiple personality disorder.
Because we received confirmation on Monday from the specialist that "everything looked great", the reality of our situation has settled in. And as we absorbed what the Dr. was saying regarding our potential future son, yes- he saw what he deemed a "protrusion", we have begun the task of cutting back, holding back, turning back and sitting back. In other words, we have turned the heat WAY down. Way WAY down. And have been using space heaters to toast our toes in our tiny condo. I think it's working, but at the moment, we do not have enough space heaters for EVERY room in the house, andI am afraid the room where our computer sits is a bit too cold for me most evenings. So, therefore, excuse number one, it's actually TOO cold to blog around here.
At the same time, I have recently discovered that around 7 O'clock, there is some raging evil girl that climbs into my body and vascillates between rage and exhaustion. She is mean, impatient, and does very little good except wait for the time to tick so she may fall into a deep slumber, putting everyone else around her at long-awaited peace. In other words, I have become my own worst enemy. And if it ain't done by seven PM, it ain't gonna happen. I get SO tired and SO hormonal, that I do my best to scamper myself off to the bedroom in order to maintain damage control. I feel SO sorry for my husband. I am sure as the clock nears 6:30 he starts to wish he were somewhere else. As the week has progressed and I have noticed this pattern taking full swing, I have proceeded with more and more caution each passing day. Bottom line? There is no way, with a 7 PM time limit, that I am going to spend my few pleasant hours left in the day blogging and after...well... after? Just go rent Psycho and you will understand. Not to mention I am scared to death of what my other personality might write. Seriously, she is EVIL!! And there you have it, excuse number TWO.
Now it is 5:47 AM, as I have decided that if I am going to blog it is going to have to be first thing in the morning. I pray that we get a new space heater soon and that this phase of pregnancy evaporates quickly.

Thankful for What?

Over the last year or so, since the miscarriage, my husband and I have worked hard to "get a life". Meaning, since we opted to not have children, we have created and built a lifestyle that blends us, our interests, and fulfills what did seem like a very empty house. As a result of our "project", I always have something to say or offer up. Have you seen THIS movie? Have you been to THAT restaurant? Have you ever been hunting? Do you like painting/reading/redecorating on a budget... ETC.?
We have done a good job in filling in the blanks and have become satisified with our lifestyle.
But a few weeks ago, there was some news from the female doctor about some "stuff". This "stuff" is very serious and out of left field. We have been coping and processing. We have been going to the doctor and I have three more appointments next week. It is slightly consuming and I am having a difficult time of not letting it get to me. It's hard to "forget about something for a while" when a large chunk of your free time is spent sitting in a waiting room. Flipping through crappy old health magazines and trying not to stare at the other patients waiting, equally as confused and thrown off.
I wish I could publish blogs about it, but at this point, I think I better keep it hush hush, at least until Wednesday, when I am going to see a specialist. I will know more. And I won't feel as if I am being too negative, or too hopeful. If I keep it hush hush, I feel I can stay removed from the truth, which is trying it's very best to upset my equilibrium. And while I have been writing about the experiences, I am keeping them to myself. I don't want certain people to read about it before I can talk about it with them in person. They may be offended, or unnecessarily upset.
It has occurred to me lately how precious our lives are. It dawned on me that until we got the news a few weeks ago, my husband and I were very happy, yet didn't stop to realize it. Life was good. Our jobs as a teacher and a public works employee, while not lucrative, are stable in the rocky economy. Our home is slowly but surely getting upgraded and fixed up to our liking. Our goals and dreams have just enough crossover to keep us connected yet just enough distance to give us space to grow as individuals. We have hit a pleasant rhythm in our marriage and life is good.
And perhaps it still is. We are both ultimately fine. But this recent "diagnosis" could change everything. Maybe for the better in the end, but also maybe for the worse. I am praying that God continue to show me that not only does everything happen for a reason, but that it happen in a way that I understand what that reason is. And sooner rather than later. I feel He has His hand in this. I am doing my best to not worry and fret about the future.
Since it's all very female and new and precarious, my husband and I are still working on making peace with it, therefore it's not the kind of thing we are ready to tell people in everyday conversation, particularly a holiday. When asked, lately, what I have been up to, I have found myself speechless for the first time in a long time. I think in my head, "You don't really want to know what I have been up to." and then hear myself say out loud out of desperation, "OH! Nothing! Really, not much at all," but really my life has been consumed and if I opened the floodgates I don't think I could stop talking about it.
In the meantime I am thankful I have my job and my supportive family and all of the other distractions that are keeping me from over thinking the possibilities and quite frankly, going nuts.
I know in the end everything will be okay. Our lives will realign and we will eventually barely remember this chapter in time. But for now, we are living it. Trying to be strong and mature and stable. Taking things one day at a time and waiting for the next appointment for more clarification.
*** Update: Everything is going to be fine!! Yeah!! Thanks for your thoughts and prayers!***