13 years of marriage today

My husband and I have been married for 13 years today.  Normally I would write something witty or funny about this, but today, today I’m going to take a moment to appreciate that my husband loves me and that we’ve made it this far.  We’ve made it through getting pregnant with Kidlet after years of struggling, we’ve made it through getting pregnant with second Kidlet after trying for two years unsuccessfully and having to see a fertility specialist.  We’ve made it through a dorm room, two apartments in NM, one house in NM, one apartment in Oregon and now  rental house in Oregon.  We’ve made it through my Dad’s passing, my brother’s graduation, my college graduation, three jobs for him, seven jobs for me since entering college, one which I left and went back to, an internship for me in Colorado the first year of our marriage, promotions for both of us, my career taking us from NM to Oregon, birthdays, holidays, and anniversaries past.  This man has stood by me in my lowest points and my highest, he’s encouraged me, pushed me, and loved me, he’s shown me that I am worthy of love and respect, he’s held me when I cried hysterically thinking that we may never have a second baby.  He’s indulged me, brought me flowers, and cared for me when I’m sick.  He’s been a loving and amazing father to our Kidlet, he’s listened to my needs and wants and put Kidlet and I first in everything he does.

I love my husband more than words can ever express, we have not had a perfect marriage, far from it, but we’ve come a long way and we’ve done so in leaps and bounds.  I can’t imagine my life without him.  I don’t want to.

Besides, he buys me IPAs when I’ve had a crap day at work, how could I ask for more?

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Pregnancy sucks balls, first world problems, and baby name

There, I said it.  It sucks balls.  Yes, I’m happy I’m adding to my family, yes I went to a fertility doctor, yes, this is what I wanted and signed up for, yes I’m ecstatic that I will be having a baby after two years of trying.  That doesn’t mean that pregnancy is sunshine and roses.  I had morning sickness from four days before I took the pregnancy test until about two and a half weeks ago.  I cry at the drop of a hat, seriously, drop a hat, I guarantee you I will cry.  I have heartburn.  I have sciatica or something going with my left hip which makes it painful to sit or sleep, hell even to walk.  I’m out of breath.  Nothing fits.  This is my second so I’m showing a lot sooner than I expected.  Nothing sounds good.  Everything sounds good.  I miss beer.  I want to punch coworkers and strangers.  I’m too hot.  I don’t feel attractive.  I’m tired, oh so tired.

I completely understand if anyone who reads thinks, “Wow, bitch much?”  or “After  years of trying, heartache, and loss I’m finally pregnant or I finally have a child or children this chick should be a hell of lot more grateful!” I get it, I do, I am very happy to be able to have this baby, to add to my little family, to give my daughter a sibling.  I am.  I also know it’s okay to feel like this, it’s okay to feel a bit miserable, it’s okay to feel.  I’m human, I’m not perfect, I’m not the greatest wife or mother to have ever roamed the Earth, but I’m doing my best, I’m doing all that I can to be the greatest wife and mother and dammit sometimes I need an outlet.  I need to be able to express this, I think everyone needs to be able to express how they feel without fear of being told to suck it up or be happy that they’re able to do something because there are those in the world who can’t.  Is this my first world problem? Yes, yes it is, I will gladly own up to that.

Think what you want of me, think the worst of me if you would like.  For me, letting this all out means I can spend more time being happy and grateful that I’m having this child.  This will be my last pregnancy.  If I ever wanted a third baby I would have to go through IUI again or even IVF and there is absolutely no guarantee that either procedure would work.  To be honest we and our doctor were stunned when the IUI worked the first time around.  My husband’s sperm count is very low and I’m barely producing eggs.  We really thought we were one and done and I can’t tell you many hours, days, and nights I spent crying and being angry at myself and the world over that fact.

So yes, pregnancy sucks balls, this is my first world problem, and I’m ecstatic to be having this baby boy in March.  I can’t wait to meet him, his sister is over the moon over at having a little brother, and my husband can’t wait.  We picked a first name, but we’re working on the middle name.  Archer will be the first name, and we are looking forward to his arrival.

Oh, and I miss IPAs.  I’m also looking forward to having one after Archer’s birth.

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You never really know what goes on behind closed doors and letting things go

I don’t write much about my family of origin, I think occasionally I’ve written about my Dad, but I don’t write much about my Mom.  There are reasons for why I don’t write much about either of them.  I love my Mom, I always will, but I don’t always like my Mom.  She has some things going in her life that I thought had been taken care of and put to bed, but it seems that these issues are springing back up and it’s because of these issues that we don’t always get along.  Now, if you happen to take issue with the fact that I don’t get along with my mother and think I should suck it up then this may not be the post for you.

My Mom had a drinking problem, she ended up with pneumonia and then ended up in MICU and almost died.  I got a call from a nurse in the ICU and they asked me if they should pull the plug if my Mom were to code.  She survived, but barely, and she promised to stop drinking.  She went through withdrawal in the hospital.  She moved in with my brother and was on the mend.  Then she went to see my grandmother for a weekend and ended up with a DUI.  The drinking stopped after that because she was living with my brother again, but I’m 99% sure that’s she’s started drinking again.  She’s living in the same city but in an apartment on her own.  I have no doubt that it will kill her someday.  The doctors told her that if she didn’t stop drinking, smoking, and didn’t start eating that she wouldn’t make it.  My last phone call with her this past weekend leads me and my husband to believe that she’s drinking again.  I love her, but I can’t make her stop, I can’t make her get help, she has to want it for herself.  I don’t see that happening.

That’s not to say my Dad didn’t have his issues either.  I watched my Dad choke my brother in the kitchen when my brother smarted off to him about something.  I continued to eat my cereal and do my homework and think to myself, shouldn’t have been a smart ass little brother.  My Mom told me that last time he hit her she was holding a 2 year old me in her arms and she slugged him back in the nose.  He didn’t hit her again after that because she fought back.   I learned at an early age not to piss him off, but I also learned all the ways he would use to make life miserable.  He would give you the silent treatment and it would drive my Mom and my brother up the wall and they would beg and plead for him to talk to them and apologize for days.  Not me, I just gave it right back.  I was always stubborn, my Mom used to tell me all the time how much like my Dad I was, in some ways it turned out to be a good thing because I learned early on to stand up for myself.  I’ve been screamed at and hit, but to the outside world we were a loving happy family.  My Dad was the coach for the 6th and 5th grade basketball team, the kids called him Pops, people in town loved him, he ran for County Commissioner and one.  The man didn’t have a diploma or a GED and had no experience at all in politics but he ran and won.  I would have people tell me how lucky I was to have him as a Dad.  They had no idea what went on at home.  I grew up thinking that my childhood was normal until I made out into the real world.

I’ve read and heard that often times a woman who was abused as a child will marry someone who is abusive and that is exactly what my Mom did.  My grandfather was an abusive SOB who cheated on my grandmother and beat her and their six children.  I made a promise to myself that I would never marry a man like my father and I am happy to say that The Geek is an amazing husband and father and shares absolutely none of the traits my Dad had.  For a long time I didn’t tell him about my childhood, I told him the happy parts, the good memories and there were good memories, but when we started to fight after having kidlet because being a first time parent is stressful I let it all out.  We make an effort to discuss rather scream at each other and if one of us is really angry we cool down.  I will not subject my daughter or this kidlet due in March to what I grew up with.

I posted this today because I’ve come to a point in my life where I’m ready to let it go.  My Dad passed away in 2002, I keep my Mom at a distance that works for me, and I have never been happier.  I love my husband and my daughter, I love my job, I love living in Oregon, and I’m ecstatic to be pregnant with our second and final baby.  Putting this on paper so to speak and putting it out there is my way of saying good bye to the past.  My childhood helped to shape the person I’ve become and I’m proud of the woman I am today.  I’m also happy with the woman I am today.  I’m happy and that’s awesome.

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Growing a human might make me crazy, Knitting and how Martha Stewart haunts me

I have to admit being pregnant a second time around is different that I remember the first.  I’m incredibly excited for this baby just like I was for kidlet, but I don’t remember being this nauseous all the time and just being so damn tired.  Grumpy one minute and happy the next.  I feel a bit off kilter.

I’ve also knitted four dishcloths two in the shape of a heart and I’m working on a fifth.  I think I might try baby booties next.  If I were Martha Stewart I would have 10 dishcloths done by now and would have made three people cry while redecorating an entire house, putting together an elegant family dinner and whipping a up a whimsical costume for kidlet.  I know what you’re thinking, I need to let it go (Oh no, please not that song) and be at peace with what I can do, but I can’t.

Okay, I’m joking, I don’t want to be Martha Stewart, I don’t like to make people cry and most of the time it’s a good idea for me not to make dinner, especially right now.  All I want is buffalo sauce on everything.  Everything.  And cheese.  There is not enough cheese in my life right now.

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All the feels! Or how things are taking a new direction in our family

The Geek and I have been trying unsuccessfully since kidlet turned 1 to have a second baby.  We went to a fertility specialist in April and started the process of testing and ultrasounds and xrays and blood draws, so much blood drawn, and in June we did Clomid and IUI.  The doctor, the staff, everyone was awesome, the process of IUI was very unsettling for me and uncomfortable for both the Geek and I.  It was after the procedure that we decided that if it did not work then we were done trying and we would be happy with just kidlet.

Well, it worked.  My estimated due date is March 10th, 2016. There were two very large eggs and after having two blood draws and seeing my numbers more than double the Geek is convinced that we are having twins.  I’m not but I will be happy no matter what.

In addition to that the Geek is looking to join a new company, should be hearing something this week.  The month of June has been a very emotional one, but in a good way.  I’m currently 4 weeks and 5 days along.  Here’s hoping a for a happy and healthy pregnancy.

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Being happy for those who have what you so desperately want and getting over it

I have a 3 year old daughter. It took a good 4 years to have said 3 year old. Now we’re trying for a sibling for the 3 year old. We’ve been trying since she turned 1. You may not have noticed but I’m not getting any younger, yes, I know, I look like I’m 19, okay, no I don’t, but I can dream so don’t burst my bubble and I won’t burst yours. I see co-workers and friends getting pregnant, some for the first time others for the second or even third or fourth and I find myself jealous. I find myself thinking why isn’t that me? Why can’t I get pregnant? I’m happy for all of them of course I am, but there’s that small part of me that hurts and is angry. That small dark corner of my mind that says it’s not fair, what’s wrong with me, why is not happening for me?

Now comes to the getting over it portion, I am someone who wants things done and wants them now. If it’s not working then you fix it and if that doesn’t work you fix it again and again until it either works or you’ve exhausted every possibility. In order to “get over it” we’ll be looking into seeing a fertility doctor and going from there. We’ll keep trying, I’ll keep being happy on the outside and I’ll work on chipping away at that dark corner until it’s no longer there.

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Christmas is done, 2015 is on it’s way, I’m still not Martha Stewart, I love beer, and resolutions

Christmas.  Oh Christmas.  The joy of having a 3 year old at Christmas.  Spent too much money and bought her a ton of stuff, yes, I know, I’m teaching her that the meaning of Christmas is about getting things.  Am I?  Maybe, but she’s my kidlet, and honestly I think the Geek and I have done a pretty good job of teaching her that Christmas is just about gifts and getting things.  We had a great Christmas with kidlet, she had fun and so did we, and in the end that’s all that matters.

2015 is right around the corner, I find it incredible that we’ve been in Oregon for 18 months.  The original plan was to move by 2020, but in 2013 I couldn’t take it anymore, I saw the ocean for the first time, I went to San Diego and realized that I was never going to be happy living in New Mexico.  I applied for a job within in my company in Oregon and the rest as they say is history.  Living outside of Portland has just opened up so many opportunities for new experiences, not to mention the beer.  I would move here just for the beer.  I tried a Boneyard RPM the other day, and now all I want is IPAs, which makes the Geek pretty happy as that’s his favorite.  Let’s not forget the wine either, Oregon and Washington have some really fantastic vineyards.

While I still have not managed to obtain Martha Stewart like skills when it comes to crafting, I did finish a scarf for kidlet.  I’m working on a second one.  I finally figured out the purl stitch, and in 2015 I plan to break out my sewing machine and give it a whirl again.

Of course I can’t forget the resolutions for New Years right?  Same resolutions as last year pretty much, lose weight, exercise more, add a sibling for kidlet.  Resolutions, I’ve got em.

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