The last couple days I feel a bit more on the verge of emotion... it's hard to explain the feeling of irrational emotions. I wax from anger and frustration to irritation to happiness to sadness and even fear. It's really quite annoying for me, but knowing it will improve is usually what helps settle my mind.
Some of my recent examples:
I went shopping at a local shop for new nursing bras, I've been wearing my old ones from nrusing Patrick and they desperately needed replacemnt. The shop I purchased them last time no longer sells bras so I went to a differnt, recommended shop. The women were just trying to hlep me but when the gal asked me my size before having Cecilia and then recommended a size medium, I laughed out loud. Please. I've never been a medium in my life, I told her. Then I said, my cup size is no longer a C. My milk is in, I'm engorged. Can you measure me? Sure, we can measure you but why don't you go try a medium on and we'll go from there. Here's when my boiling point was reached. I'm wearing this exact bra and it's an XL and the cups are barely holding me right now. The same bra? Yes. I'll take your medium but I'll also take the XL so I don't have to make two trips. I was so irritated. Ended up buying the XL bras.. and they never measured me. A second lady even told me (after I asked her to measure me) that "we've been doing this a long time, I can tell you are maybe a D". I tried an E cup on (equivalent to DDD) and filled that out just fine. I left happy I'd gotten new bras but irritated in general. I asked Joc if she could tell I was pissed, she said yes in that "I was afraid you were going to bit the woman's head off if she told you you were a medium again" kind of way. No one lost their head that day, thank goodness.
We've been taking Patrick to daycare since we're still paying the weekly cost to hold his spot, he loves his friends and teachers at daycare, and it's good to keep his routine that he knows. I've struggled with this mentally as I wish he could be home with us and Cecilia but I also know that we'd be even more exhausted if he were here to take care of. Not to mention, Cecilia can't even appreciate him yet, so it really is better if he's at daycare getting that stimuation and not throwing tantrums at home. I have been feeling a lot of guilt over this but he doesn't go in unitl about 9 (7:30 was his old time for drop off when we were working) and we pick him up by 4. With the weather getting nicer (hopefully) we will have more outdoor time with him. He's going to be fine, and probalby won't remember this at all.
There have been a few recent stories posted on facebook about kids who have died. These are really hard on me. Maybe because my brother died young or my dad or because of my hormones but I look at these two beautiful babies given to us and I think about them dying. It scares me to think of that loss. I pray that God wouldn't do that to us, that I've expereinced enough loss in my life that He wouldn't do it but I also know Brian died when he was 15 and my dad two years later... it's possible God would do it. I rationalize with myself and I truly cherish every moment we have with them. I pray we're some of the lucky ones who see their children grow up and succeed and have families and carreers of their own. I don't dwell on it, I think I'm just a little more acutely aware of the possibility of tragedy and loss you could say and I'm realistic that life isn't fair and bad things happen to good people...
Just gonna have to wait out these hormones as they stabilize and my emotions do as well. For now, forgive me if I'm irrational to you, I don't mean it....
Monday, April 8, 2013
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Just a reminder...
So, I'm nearing the final weeks of this second pregnancy and am frequently reminded by every single person in the world around me what my freakin' due date is. It never fails, after telling one person the next walks up, places a hand on my basketball of a stomach and says it... "when are you due?" And now I hate them. Really.
I'm reminded of the post I wrote on the 31st of May, 2011. I was almost a week overdue with Patrick and fed up with people's well meaning questions. Tonight, I read my top things to never say to a 37+ pregnant woman and Joc and I had a good laugh at them. I feel the need to share, so here they are:
Here's my list of Things to not say to a 37+ week pregnant woman: (and my responses or internal thoughts to their comments)
1. still no baby? (yup, I had it just didn't tell anyone)
2. you must be miserable (well, I'm not horribly miserable but I'm done with this abdomen and not seeing anything below my gut)
3. still here? (yes, yes I am. Can you stop asking me this now? If you see me, you can pretty much assume that 1. i'm still pregnant 2. i haven't had the baby and 3. i'm not in the mood to answer your well-meaning questions.)
4. you haven't dropped, with your first, you have a good 2 weeks after you've dropped. (This said to me on my due date... I was so ready to jump across the table at the woman. hormones, right?)
5. are your feet swollen? (no, they usually look like this)
6. aren't you cute? (i'm not a cute person, never have been, never will be. It's life, and I'm 30 years old so I think I'd know if I were cute. It's the same way I feel when people call old people "cute". I do not wish to be called cute as an adult nor as an old woman with wrinkles and a sense of humor.)
7. when's your due date? (fill in my date here) So are you having a C-section? (not that I'm planning on). So how do you know that's the date? (ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME???!!!)
8. you should eat something spicy, i ate some jalepeno's with my first and went into labor right after that. (Right, I'll take that into consideration... the heartburn is not worth it!)
9. Sex, you should have sex. (right, because sperm is what is the most helpful part of sex and since we paid some decent dollar amounts for the sperm that met my egg in my fallopian tube, I'm just gonna wait it out here... and no, I'm not taking volunteers for sperm donation!!)
10. Do you want to know what made me go into labor? (no, I don't because I'm a nurse and I read research crap and I know that there is absolutely no scientific evidence to support any of those old wives tales about what causes people to go into labor. What I need is prostaglandin and uterine contractions... which the baby has to secrete in order to start dilating this damn cervix.)
11. Do you know what you're having? (nope) You don't want to know? (Well, yeah we do but we also wanted to keep it a surprise) So are you gonna find out? (hopefully in the next few FUCKING weeks you idiot!)
12. You should go for a long walk. (yup, been walking this whole pregnancy..)
13. When's your due date? (may 26th) I sit back and watch as pure confusion crosses this person's face. So, what does that make you? (stupid for standing here, talking to you still) (this one also drives me mad when people I work with or people I speak to frequently, have asked me this multiple times through the pregnancy. I know it's not their job to remember nor do they really care what the date is... then stop asking me. AND when I tell them, end of May, then they say, well what day? I've taken to saying, you won't remember anyway so I'm not telling you again. It's mean, I know... but what can I say?!)
I can say I feel the same way now... I might add another that I've heard a lot in the past 2 days: "you've dropped" (no, I haven't) "yes, you have. You definitely have dropped." (Nope, stomach is still in the same place, my boobs are still resting on my stomach, I'm still short of breath and I can tell I haven't dropped.) "no, you have, I can see it." (Seriously? Keep pushing it and I'm gonna drop my fist into your face...).
Good times.
I'm reminded of the post I wrote on the 31st of May, 2011. I was almost a week overdue with Patrick and fed up with people's well meaning questions. Tonight, I read my top things to never say to a 37+ pregnant woman and Joc and I had a good laugh at them. I feel the need to share, so here they are:
Here's my list of Things to not say to a 37+ week pregnant woman: (and my responses or internal thoughts to their comments)
1. still no baby? (yup, I had it just didn't tell anyone)
2. you must be miserable (well, I'm not horribly miserable but I'm done with this abdomen and not seeing anything below my gut)
3. still here? (yes, yes I am. Can you stop asking me this now? If you see me, you can pretty much assume that 1. i'm still pregnant 2. i haven't had the baby and 3. i'm not in the mood to answer your well-meaning questions.)
4. you haven't dropped, with your first, you have a good 2 weeks after you've dropped. (This said to me on my due date... I was so ready to jump across the table at the woman. hormones, right?)
5. are your feet swollen? (no, they usually look like this)
6. aren't you cute? (i'm not a cute person, never have been, never will be. It's life, and I'm 30 years old so I think I'd know if I were cute. It's the same way I feel when people call old people "cute". I do not wish to be called cute as an adult nor as an old woman with wrinkles and a sense of humor.)
7. when's your due date? (fill in my date here) So are you having a C-section? (not that I'm planning on). So how do you know that's the date? (ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME???!!!)
8. you should eat something spicy, i ate some jalepeno's with my first and went into labor right after that. (Right, I'll take that into consideration... the heartburn is not worth it!)
9. Sex, you should have sex. (right, because sperm is what is the most helpful part of sex and since we paid some decent dollar amounts for the sperm that met my egg in my fallopian tube, I'm just gonna wait it out here... and no, I'm not taking volunteers for sperm donation!!)
10. Do you want to know what made me go into labor? (no, I don't because I'm a nurse and I read research crap and I know that there is absolutely no scientific evidence to support any of those old wives tales about what causes people to go into labor. What I need is prostaglandin and uterine contractions... which the baby has to secrete in order to start dilating this damn cervix.)
11. Do you know what you're having? (nope) You don't want to know? (Well, yeah we do but we also wanted to keep it a surprise) So are you gonna find out? (hopefully in the next few FUCKING weeks you idiot!)
12. You should go for a long walk. (yup, been walking this whole pregnancy..)
13. When's your due date? (may 26th) I sit back and watch as pure confusion crosses this person's face. So, what does that make you? (stupid for standing here, talking to you still) (this one also drives me mad when people I work with or people I speak to frequently, have asked me this multiple times through the pregnancy. I know it's not their job to remember nor do they really care what the date is... then stop asking me. AND when I tell them, end of May, then they say, well what day? I've taken to saying, you won't remember anyway so I'm not telling you again. It's mean, I know... but what can I say?!)
I can say I feel the same way now... I might add another that I've heard a lot in the past 2 days: "you've dropped" (no, I haven't) "yes, you have. You definitely have dropped." (Nope, stomach is still in the same place, my boobs are still resting on my stomach, I'm still short of breath and I can tell I haven't dropped.) "no, you have, I can see it." (Seriously? Keep pushing it and I'm gonna drop my fist into your face...).
Good times.
Monday, September 10, 2012
So long...
This morning I received a message from my mom. My Grandpa Owens died in his sleep early Monday morning.
My grandpa has been dying all summer, it started with a GI bleed (gastrointestinal) that put him in the hospital and headed in a slow decline to Hospice and a bed in the living room, oxygen, a walker and a shell of a really great guy. He was 91 years old, he lived a good life (from my perspective).
I had the opportunity to go see him and my grandma on Saturday. I remember thinking on my way over that I wasn't sure I wanted to see him but I did. And I understood my reservations when I saw him. It wasn't my grandpa anymore though, he was gone already really. The man I hugged and said, "see you" to wasn't the grandpa who told funny "look at my thumb, gee you're dumb" jokes or had a temper that could scare you stiff (we don't call it "pulling a George Owens" for nothing) or the guy who talked about selling my dog to the Chinese restaurant or who always asked about my job and my career. He wasn't the guy who loved me, treated Joc with kindness and respect (regardless of what he believed) and asked about Patrick. That man, my grandpa, hasn't been around since the spring. And I feel okay with how I left him both Saturday and the last time I saw him.
He was at home. My mom was there. His children had all been home and seen him in the last month. He was as ready as he could be.
So long grandpa, thank you for everything you've given me in this life. May you rest in peace always.
My grandpa has been dying all summer, it started with a GI bleed (gastrointestinal) that put him in the hospital and headed in a slow decline to Hospice and a bed in the living room, oxygen, a walker and a shell of a really great guy. He was 91 years old, he lived a good life (from my perspective).
I had the opportunity to go see him and my grandma on Saturday. I remember thinking on my way over that I wasn't sure I wanted to see him but I did. And I understood my reservations when I saw him. It wasn't my grandpa anymore though, he was gone already really. The man I hugged and said, "see you" to wasn't the grandpa who told funny "look at my thumb, gee you're dumb" jokes or had a temper that could scare you stiff (we don't call it "pulling a George Owens" for nothing) or the guy who talked about selling my dog to the Chinese restaurant or who always asked about my job and my career. He wasn't the guy who loved me, treated Joc with kindness and respect (regardless of what he believed) and asked about Patrick. That man, my grandpa, hasn't been around since the spring. And I feel okay with how I left him both Saturday and the last time I saw him.
He was at home. My mom was there. His children had all been home and seen him in the last month. He was as ready as he could be.
So long grandpa, thank you for everything you've given me in this life. May you rest in peace always.
Saturday, August 4, 2012
In limbo
I'm sitting in the airport in Chicago, waiting on my connecting flight home to grand rapids. It's been a long day of travel home from Nashville, where I was doing a two day training for work. It was good training but the trip was quick and I miss my family.
At the Nashville airport I was sitting there with my coworker I traveled with and news was on. As the reporter went into this Chic-fil-a (or however you spell that) drama and I watched almost all the people around me gazing up and listening as various people say why or why not they are spending their money at this establishment.
I'm just reminded again of the sadness that my sexuality gets to be so openly discussed and judged by strangers. I felt nervous, as my coworker knows I am gay with a wife and son, and I hate when I'm put in that sort of position. I felt irritated that the news was even reporting on it. And I searched stranger's faces for the judgement I fear they hold without even knowing me.
Why is it okay for people to declare that gay people, or as they love to refer to us, "homosexuals", are aberrant, immoral, among other hurtful words. We are people. Each and every one of us. People with families that love us, or sadly in many cases, hate us. We are not a biblical verse or a despicable human beings. We're walking in front of you and beside you. I'm sitting right next to you, I'm on my phone calling my wife too. I don't feel the need to declare how I disagree with your lifestyle to anyone who will listen. I don't feel the need to post hateful comments on a public forum about your love, that maybe I don't understand but I don't have to because I'm not in the relationship.
I digress. I'm tired.
At the Nashville airport I was sitting there with my coworker I traveled with and news was on. As the reporter went into this Chic-fil-a (or however you spell that) drama and I watched almost all the people around me gazing up and listening as various people say why or why not they are spending their money at this establishment.
I'm just reminded again of the sadness that my sexuality gets to be so openly discussed and judged by strangers. I felt nervous, as my coworker knows I am gay with a wife and son, and I hate when I'm put in that sort of position. I felt irritated that the news was even reporting on it. And I searched stranger's faces for the judgement I fear they hold without even knowing me.
Why is it okay for people to declare that gay people, or as they love to refer to us, "homosexuals", are aberrant, immoral, among other hurtful words. We are people. Each and every one of us. People with families that love us, or sadly in many cases, hate us. We are not a biblical verse or a despicable human beings. We're walking in front of you and beside you. I'm sitting right next to you, I'm on my phone calling my wife too. I don't feel the need to declare how I disagree with your lifestyle to anyone who will listen. I don't feel the need to post hateful comments on a public forum about your love, that maybe I don't understand but I don't have to because I'm not in the relationship.
I digress. I'm tired.
Monday, July 2, 2012
An update on life
Summer is definitely here around these parts. It's been hot! Patrick has a little plastic pool that we pull out most weekends we are at home and after a few hours in the sun, it's warm. On his own time, he likes to crawl in and out of the pool and then over to the sandbox we made for him and gets all sandy. He prefers to toss the sand out of the sandbox and move the toys around... he hasn't quite realized he should be scoping and buiding with the sand. Ah well, that will come.
Patrick continues to get more and more personable. He understands when things are said to him, little things. Like, "where's cooper?" he looks around or goes crawling off laughing to find and womp cooper. Poor dog looks at us daily with the face, "when is this kid leaving? Cuz he keeps pulling my fur, wacking me on the back and touching my feet!" But she is a good dog and puts up with mischief. If she's not in the mood, she takes herself out of the situation. Many evenings, I'll go upstairs after Patch has gone to bed and there's Cooper, laying on his bedroom floor. She loves him, I know it.
We are finishing half our basement this summer with the help of Joc's dad, Mike. He's a contractor and has all these tools and machines and the experience to help us with less cost than hiring someone. Because of that, it will take a couple months to be finished but it's farther than it was last year when it was only a dream. We are planning an additional bedroom with a double bed, and a family room/TV room area. That will free up our current study for when/if we have more kids and need the rooms upstairs (we'd move our room to the study). We've picked most of the materials out and Mike will be here in a couple weekends to put in some egress windows. It's exciting!
As usual, I'm unhappy in my job. It waxes and wanes but lately I've been irritable and tired. I just feel tired. It's a thankless job really, middle management. I'm in flux though. Simulation is my favorite part of the job, but it's not as important to the people in the higher ivory towers as I think it is. Being a simulation coordinator is a full time job in itself and I've been doing it with my other duties. I'm exhausted, mentally. I'm hoping the next week off will help clear my head. I have something on the horizon. I'm not sure what to make of it. For now, I need to apply for it and see what happens. I have a lot of guilt. There is a lot I would leave behind, I'd leave my coworkers in a lurch and there's a lot of time I've invested. But how do you say, "no, I can't do this because I'm considering leaving my position and I don't want to leave you hanging when I'm gone." Ba. It's hard. It's all very hard to swallow.
Patrick continues to get more and more personable. He understands when things are said to him, little things. Like, "where's cooper?" he looks around or goes crawling off laughing to find and womp cooper. Poor dog looks at us daily with the face, "when is this kid leaving? Cuz he keeps pulling my fur, wacking me on the back and touching my feet!" But she is a good dog and puts up with mischief. If she's not in the mood, she takes herself out of the situation. Many evenings, I'll go upstairs after Patch has gone to bed and there's Cooper, laying on his bedroom floor. She loves him, I know it.
We are finishing half our basement this summer with the help of Joc's dad, Mike. He's a contractor and has all these tools and machines and the experience to help us with less cost than hiring someone. Because of that, it will take a couple months to be finished but it's farther than it was last year when it was only a dream. We are planning an additional bedroom with a double bed, and a family room/TV room area. That will free up our current study for when/if we have more kids and need the rooms upstairs (we'd move our room to the study). We've picked most of the materials out and Mike will be here in a couple weekends to put in some egress windows. It's exciting!
As usual, I'm unhappy in my job. It waxes and wanes but lately I've been irritable and tired. I just feel tired. It's a thankless job really, middle management. I'm in flux though. Simulation is my favorite part of the job, but it's not as important to the people in the higher ivory towers as I think it is. Being a simulation coordinator is a full time job in itself and I've been doing it with my other duties. I'm exhausted, mentally. I'm hoping the next week off will help clear my head. I have something on the horizon. I'm not sure what to make of it. For now, I need to apply for it and see what happens. I have a lot of guilt. There is a lot I would leave behind, I'd leave my coworkers in a lurch and there's a lot of time I've invested. But how do you say, "no, I can't do this because I'm considering leaving my position and I don't want to leave you hanging when I'm gone." Ba. It's hard. It's all very hard to swallow.
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