Fingers, Toes, Legs, Arms, Eyes Crossed

DH just submitted an online application to work for Volkswagen as a member of the production team. We won’t know anything for quite a while, and even then if he is hired he won’t start work for the next few months.

But if he gets hired on, I can quit my full-time job. For the first three years that he’s with the company we could make it on his income or I could get a P/T at a daycare or something and we could live well. After three years, employees get a $5.00 raise. I could quit working completely and be a SAHM.

This could be the opportunity we’ve been hoping and waiting for. I’ve been sending out good, positive VW vibes to the universe all weekend. For those of you who aren’t aware, DH works in construction and we’ve been struggling with finances for about half a year. What with the economy being the way it is, and the weather being so rainy and wet his work has suffered and we’ve taken a pretty significant blow to our income. I desperately want him to get this job. So if you can spare some prayers or positive vibes our way, I’d appreciate it.

Oink Oink

My dinner this evening consisted of a box of Kraft macaroni and cheese.

Like, an ENTIRE BOX.


I didn’t share ANY with my husband. I ate the entire damn box of mac n’ cheese, and the craziest thing of all is that I’m not uncomfortably full.

Today, I’m 7 months pregnant. So far, I have no stretch marks. My belly button is not popping out. My ass is the size of Texas, and I have to roll out of bed to get up in the middle of the night to urinate. I waddle when I walk. I notice that when I am out in public people, particularly children, glance at my stomach longer than they used to.

Despite the discomforts, I love being pregnant. I love my shape, I love running my hands over my belly and feeling my daughter kick me. Yes, I pee constantly. My digestive system is slower than a turtle with no legs. My hips ache when I sleep, my arm goes numb from my big fat self laying on it and my gas…. Well, let’s just say if I ever needed to clear a room for some reason, all that would be required would be to feed me something that wouldn’t agree with my stomach.

But I love being pregnant. It’s hard to believe that very soon, this little person will be in my arms; not in my belly. While I can’t wait to hold her and meet her, I am going to miss feeling her kick and move inside.

To My Girl

Nellie Rose,

Thank you, baby girl.

Thank you for staying with me, for being with me and letting me be your mommy. I know that a tomorrow together isn’t promised for us, so for right now in this very moment.. Thank you for being my daughter.

Thank you for the morning sickness, for the acne and for the aches and pains. Thank you for your little kicks, squirms, and rolls. Thank you for smiling at me during your ultrasound, yawning and for those little hiccups I felt last night.

I love you more than words can say. I know in my heart I will meet you “on the outside”. I know that I will hold you, kiss your sweet face, sing you to sleep and feed you. You and I are meant to be together, kiddo. I feel it in my bones.

But just in case someone somewhere has other plans, I just wanted to let you know that you are my world and I love you more than is humanly possible to describe.


Another PAL Heartbreak

I just read on my Pregnant After a Loss message board that one of my fellow PALs who was pregnant with twins after losing 6 other babies has lost her twins.

She was 14 weeks pregnant. She messaged me on Facebook whenever she found out, and kept the news quiet from the general public until about 12 weeks.

Why does this happen? Why does this happen to women over and over, women who are healthy and have hearts filled with love for the babies that their bodies just cannot carry? My heart is broken for her. I just… I don’t have the words.


A friend of mine just texted me to tell me her coworker had a miscarriage. She had told me about the coworker’s pregnancy a few weeks ago when she discovered she was pregnant. I had met her coworker once, and she knew I was pregnant so I guess she asked my friend lots of questions about me, etc.

My friend texted me to let me know she may friend me on Facebook for some support and I told her to go right ahead.. Without any hesitation whatsoever. It’s strange, but even when I don’t know a person at all I feel compelled to help them in whatever way I can when it comes to this stuff. I just think back on when we lost our baby how alone I felt during times, and how it seemed like the world didn’t understand. I don’t want any woman to have to go through the pain alone if she wants or needs support..

It’s just so sad. I guess she was 12 weeks pregnant, but she had an ultrasound that showed the baby had died at 5 weeks. My heart goes out to her. I wish that no woman had to go through the pain of a miscarriage or losing a baby in any way, shape, or form.

The GD Test

I have a doctor’s appointment next Wednesday, when I will be 28w3d. I’m scheduled to get my Rhogam shot, and take the Gestational Diabetes test, affectionately abbreviated to the GD Test.

It’s funny, whenever I think about the GD test; when I say it or type it, or congratulate someone else on passing their GD test, I’m inclined to think not of Gestational Diabetes as it stands for but a swear phrase that is commonly frowned upon.

So every time I say, “Congrats on passing your GD test!” in my head, I’m not saying, “Congrats on passing your Gestational Diabetes test!” but I’m picturing some angry, swollen pregnant lady yelling sarcastically, “CONGRATULATIONS ON PASSING YOUR *** D@MN TEST!!!!!!!!”

My brain is a very strange place, I know.

Also, I don’t personally have a problem yelling or saying the afformentioned cuss word, but I know I have a few readers who might be offended by it and so I am being courteous.

You’re welcome.

Happy Hump Day!

P.S. Apparently when you type D@MN, Blogger magically inserts a link for you to click on. I clicked on it, and it’s trying to make me mail to D@MN. You can try it if you want, but I’m pretty sure that’s not a real e-mail address and if it is, it probably belongs to a large, sweaty, and very angry man who yells obscenities and shakes his fist a lot.

The Musical in My Head

Okay, so I know I’m posting a lot today. But this is important and needs to be shared.

My friends would be able to tell you that I am a walking jukebox. My motto is, “Life is one big song cue” and there is a musical happening almost 24/7 in my head. Got it? Good.

That being said, I have the tendency to completely and utterly forget that I’m a member of the normal human race, which consists of people who do NOT have elaborate song and dance numbers running through their heads at any given moment. So, I have the tendency to randomly make up my own songs and dances in inappropriate places.

I was sitting here, starving my fat little toushy off when I remembered some spare change I had in my wallet. Gleeful, I retrieved the money, got off my butt and ventured out into the hallway. I was not paying attention to my surroundings, and was waddling down the hall singing:

“Going to the vending machine, cha cha! Going to the vending machine, cha cha!” and when I got to the “cha cha” part, I’d stop for a second and wiggle my hips and belly. At one point, I happened to look up from my feet and just stopped. There was a college-aged boy coming down the hallway and he was just looking at me. I gave him my most winning smile and scurried as quickly as my short, plump little legs would carry me.

And that, my friends, was my embarassing moment of the day.

A Day in the Life of Mommy and Baby

Mommy: Boy, I sure am uncomfortable.

Baby: What’s this soft, squishy thing? *tests it out* Hey, that’s nice. I’m going to sleep here. *lays on mommy’s bladder*

Mommy: Shit, I have to pee. *gets up to pee. Cringes at round ligament pain. Goes to bathroom. Nothing comes out. Waddles back to desk. Cringes at round ligament pain.*

Baby: I’m uncomfortable. *rolls, elbowing mommy in the bladder in the process. Re-lays on mommy’s bladder.*

Mommy: Shit. I have to pee. Again. *gets up to pee. Waddles to bathroom. Sighs at round ligament pain. Sits down to pee. Leaky faucet pee. Waddles back to desk. Winces at round ligament pain.*

Baby: Hey, what’s this? *kicks the shit out of mommy’s “round ligament area”*

Mommy: *feels like someone just kicked the shit out of a muscle that’s being torn, stretched and pulled at the same time* OW! SON OF A BITCH!

Coworker: WTF?

Baby: I’m bored with that. *rolls over again, squashing mommy’s bladder in the process*

Mommy: *sighs* I have to pee. Again. *waddles to bathroom. Gets made fun of by coworker. Coworker screams in pain as mommy ‘accidentally’ stomps on his foot. Mommy chuckles and winces at round ligament pain simultaneously.*

Baby: *sleeps for four hours*

Mommy: I’m hungry.
I’m tired.
It’s hot in here.
I’m still hungry.

Baby: *sleepkicks*

Mommy: OW.

Baby: *wiggles, pokes, thumps mommy in the belly*

Mommy: *looks down at belly and smiles. Rubs belly.* I love you, kiddo.

Baby: *gets snuggly and sleeps.* ….. This isn’t comfortable. *rolls over, headbutting mommy’s bladder*

Mommy: ……. *sigh*

My Fat Fingers

I’ve been wearing my wedding rings on a chain (a sturdy one) for about a month now. I freaking hate it. My wedding rings have been a part of my hand for over 4 years now and my engagement ring has been nestled comfortable on my finger for over 5. I feel so naked without them. Even after 4 weeks of not wearing them, I still find myself fidgeting and panicking for a split second when I don’t feel them before my pregnant brain catches up and remembers they’re around my neck.

Also, my hair gets tangled up in my chain and that is also infuriating.

I’m trying a little experiment today. My finger swelling (which isn’t terrible, but enough to make my rings tight) is worse on my left hand. My wedding ring is tighter than my engagement ring, so I now have my engagement ring on my left hand; my wedding ring on my right. People will either think I’m crazy, or in the middle of a divorce or something. Ah, well. Let them think what they want.

I’ve often wondered if people notice my pregnant belly and then notice I’m not wearing wedding rings on my finger. I almost dare someone to say something to me; to make some kind of comment. Pregnancy has made me sassy and short-tempered and less prone to tolerate someone’s bullshit. I don’t have time for your judgements, sir, I’m busy MAKING A HUMAN BEING.

See what I mean? Getting all fired up over nothing. Maybe this baby is a hothead and her attitude is shining through me. Either that or I’m just a bitch. It could be the latter, I don’t really know.

Have I mentioned how impossible it is to get comfortable at work? My chair is uncomfortable, so I switched to a different one. Still uncomfortable. NOTHING HELPS. I wadded up a hoodie that I have here and slipped it behind my lower back. No dice. This is just another reason I wish I were a SAH mommy-to-be and not stuck at my desk, uncomfortable and whiney.

My body has started a new thing this week; constant discomfort in my lower abdomen. I don’t know if it’s ligament pain or what, but it sucks. I have this constant pulling, tight pain in the front of my lower abdomen. It’s worse when I have to use the bathroom, but it is uncomfortable to stand up from a sitting position, roll over in bed, and even sit in certain positions. I don’t know if this is normal, or something I should address to my doctor next week. I will probably mention it just to be on the safe side. It sure is irritating and painful.

I’m irritable today. Everyone is getting on my nerves. Also, I’m hungry. And apparently a whiney little baby, from the overall tone of this blog. I apologize to all of you reading.

No, you know what? I take it back. Deal with it!

…I’m sorry, that was the baby, not me.

I’m still hungry.

That’s How My Baby Rolls, and My Tiny Bladder

I swear I just felt the strangest thing. Nellie’s usually sleeping pretty well during the daytime, and I think she must have been uncomfortable in there because I totally just felt her roll over. Or flip around, or something. It was completely unlike anything I’ve felt from her before. It wasn’t the usual thump or bump; it was totally a rolling/turning sensation.


Perhaps she was sensing my agitation of getting up every 20 minutes to pee and was thoughtfully removing herself from laying directly ON my bladder.

You know what’s so weird/irritating about pregnancy urination, is that you feel like your bladder is full to the point of exploding. You know that really uncomfortable, persistent sensation that comes when you’ve been holding your pee and you just can’t hold it anymore? It feels like that, so you waddle your big, fat ass to the bathroom, desperately pull down your pants, sit down and prepare for Niagra Falls…..

And get a leaky faucet instead.

WTF is up with that?! I swear, every time I have to pee it feels like if I don’t get to a toilet in the next 30 seconds, I’m seriously going to wet myself only to find that when I do sit down to use the bathroom my stream is weaker than the water pressure in a cheap roadside motel in the middle of nowhere. Yeesh.