Has everyone missed me?

I've missed posting on here.  But I've had some interesting/crazy things going on in my life that I didn't feel I could write about.  And not writing about them, and only writing about the other things felt wrong.  It felt like I was cheating myself, or burying my head in the sand.

And I have been playing ostrich.  But really, what else can a girl do when she hears the words "I feel like I've been in the wrong sex all my life" come from her father's lips.

Intellectually, I understand.  Heck, I watch tv, I've seen the documentaries, and I've silently cheered on the people who are going through all of that.  But it's a whole different can of worms when it's your father.  The one man who showed me what a good man was.  The one that all of my boyfriends, and even my husband could never live up to.  He is my Dad.

So now what is he?  He's still my Dad.  He always will be.  The parts of him that I loved are still there.  The parts of him that I hated are still there.  He hasn't changed, but everything has changed.

It has made for some stressful family dynamics.  My Mom doesn't have anyone to talk to about it; she won't confide in any of her friends.  I'm now her outlet.  And I can understand her pain and her frustration.  They've been married for 32 years for hell sake.  But it's so hard for me to be the one she talks to.  Because I understand her side, and I am trying to understand my Dad's side.  I love both of them, and I don't want to take sides.

On the other hand, it has made for some funny moments.  Like when I told The Husband.  He didn't even flinch.  Just said "Make sure he doesn't wear a dress to the family Thanksgiving dinner."  And that was that.

Or the weekend I spent at my parents house and slept in my Dad's bedroom.  I woke up in the middle of the night and just about wet myself because there was someone staring at me from the closet.  Turns out it was the wig stand with a wig on it.  Cracked me right up.

Anywho, now that I've got that out there, I'm sure I'll be back blogging away.  I only ask for understanding from those of you who read this blog.  You may not agree with what my father is going through, but please do not bring hate to my space.  Also, if you happen to know me outside this blog, please don't mention anything.  It is up to my father to talk about this to others when he is ready.

6 weeks old

Baby Girl is six weeks old.  There are days when I feel like the time has flown by, and other days where I feel like it's been the longest six weeks of my life.  Being a parent is hard.  Parenting a newborn is hard.  Doing both while struggling with depression is worse then hard.  It fucking sucks.

Two weeks after Baby Girl was born, I was put on a bigger dose of my anti-depressants.  I've been struggling with depression for years (since 8th grade).  I saw the signs in myself that things were deteriorating, and I took steps to correct it as soon as I could.  The medicine has helped, but so has reaching out to friends and family.  Depression should not be dealt with quietly.  In order to brighten up the dark spots in my life, I need to open them up to people.  Family and friends have become a light to me the past six weeks, helping me see that the dark spots aren't hugely scary.  At the very least, they aren't hugely scary when you have someone there holding your hand.

Several of my friends have dealt with PPD, and it's been a great help to me to talk to them.  They understand how I feel, and can talk me down from the verge of a panic attack.  They've helped me realize that Baby Girl is going to grow and thrive, and that just because I get frustrated when she cries doesn't mean I'm a bad parent.  

I've also started getting out the house with Baby Girl.  We go visit family and friends, go shopping, or just go for a walk.  And when I need a Baby Girl free moment, The Husband takes her and I escape to Target.

And in spite of all of the crap that is my depression, Baby Girl is happy.  She smiles more and more each day.  The smiles help.  She is getting bigger and no longer fits in most of her newborn clothes.  She adores tummy time.  She is growing up so fast, and I don't want to miss a single moment.  

We're still alive!

It's just hard to write blog posts with one hand!  So here's some bullets to update you!

• Baby Girl is doing great.  Our new saying around the house "She's thriving in spite of us"
• Things are starting to settle into a routine at our house.  Our world was a bit crazy for the first two weeks of Baby Girl's life.  I came home from the hospital with a stomach bug, then when I finally started feeling better, The Husband got food poisoning and we had to take him to the hospital!  It would have been a rough two weeks even if I hadn't had a newborn and a c-section to recover from.  But we survived, and I think it upped our confidence level.  If we can keep Baby Girl alive through that, we should be ok through regular stuff!
• In the midst of me and The Husband getting sick, Moo ate a bag of M&Ms.  Guess he was feeling left out of the we-cant-keep-anything-down group that me and The Husband had.  Carpets to be cleaned, eventually.
• Baby Girl did give us quite the scare when she was a week old though.  About 4 hours after a feeding, she started spitting up exorcist style.  I was seriously waiting to see her little head turn around.  And the spit up? Had brown chunks in it.  I ran up stairs and woke my husband, who called the pediatrician.  Turns out I should have named my baby Renesme.  My nipple had a crack in it, and she had been drinking blood along with the milk.  (Maybe I've been watching to many episodes of Vampire Diaries?)  It took her awhile to get all the blood out of her tummy, but once it was gone, she was back to her normal, happy, non exorcist self.
• Baby blues suck.  Hard.
• This has been our first week on our own, and I think we're doing ok.  I still haven't ventured out of the house with Baby Girl.  I'm to afraid of everything that's out there that could get her sick.
• Honestly, I'm afraid of a lot of things that have to do with Baby Girl.  I'm working on getting over them, but it's hard.  I think the anxiety ties back into the baby blues.  But this is where our saying comes into play.  I may not have a clue in hell what I'm doing, but Baby Girl is thriving, so I must not be screwing it all up!  And so long as she's alive, we can pay for therapy for all the damage I do to her psyche.

Birth Story - Updated with Picture

Sunday was an anxious day for me as I waited to find out whether or not I'd be going in to the hospital for an induction. Finally, I received word that there was room for me that night, and we headed off for the hospital.  When we got there, the whole main entrance was under construction, which really stressed me out.  The hospital had told us that if we didn't arrive on time, they might not start the induction, and I was hugely sick of being pregnant.  After finally finding our way to labor and delivery we were about a half hour late, only to find out we were the only ones in labor and delivery.  The ONLY people.

After we finished all the paperwork and were admitted we were taking to our room.  The nurse placed my IV, and put me on the monitors to watch Baby Girl and to watch for contractions.  As soon as she plugged the contraction monitor in we saw a pretty strong one go across the screen.  I didn't feel a thing.  I took this as a good sign.  Maybe I was already dilating?! It took another hour for the doctor to arrive to administer the cervidril himself.  Holy Hell.  I almost came up and out of the bed while he was placing the drug.  Add to that that there was no change to my cervix; still high and closed.  I was hoping that would be the worst of it.  But I was wrong.  About a half hour later the contractions started to get painful.

My doctor wouldn't let me have an epidural until I had dilated to a 4.  That became my goal.  All I had to do was make it through the night, he'd check me in the morning and then I'd get the good drugs.  Meanwhile, I was getting shots of something that took the pain away for about 45 minutes, but I was only allowed the shots every three hours.  So, 45 minutes of peace, then agony until the next shot.

During the night, my stomach decided to rebel against me.  I got horrid diarrhea as a reaction to the cervidril.  I got another shot of something to make the diarrhea stop, and a shot of zofran to ease up the nausea.  More cramps, more nausea, more diarrhea, more pain.

Soon, it's morning, and my doctor is there to take out the drug, and check my progress.  And after all that pain, there has to be progress, right?  Nope.  NONE.  Cervix still high and closed.  It was at this point that I burst into tears.  Thirteen hours of labor, thirteen hours of hell, and my body hadn't done anything right.  I was given three options: Go home and continue to labor on my own (Um, hell no); Start the pitocin and see if we can make the cervix respond (Dr. said it would more then likely fail and that he still wouldn't give me any good drugs until I was dilated to a four); Or do a c-section.  I think I debated for all of five minutes.  The pain needed to end, so a c-section it was!

Things after that are kind of a blur.  The anesthesiologist came in and started spouting off his stuff, my doctor started going through his stuff, and I was signing papers.  I remember telling everyone I didn't feel well, and throwing up (which up until the birth I hadn't done since 2003).  I remember someone coming in and shaving me, and someone coming in from the NuMom2B study and talking to me, but I don't remember about what.  I was focusing on making it through the contractions, and they were doozys!

They asked me to walk to the OR.  I laughed at them and they got me a wheelchair.  All I could think about at this point was that I would soon be getting a spinal and the pain would end.  I wish I could say that I was excited to meet my Anna, but that thought wasn't there.  When we got to the OR, they had me climb onto the table, and then the anesthesiologist started to work on my spinal.  It took him several tries, for which he kept apologizing, but honestly the pain was less than contractions, so it didn't faze me.  When he got it right, and the pain started melting away I was in heaven.

The rest of the birth is only in bits and pieces of memories.

I remember them setting up the curtain, hearing my doctor explaining the surgery to a resident, someone asking my husband if he wanted to see her born (his response, "no thanks") and then hearing the most beautiful cry in the world.  I started crying, and thinking of how much I'd been through to get here.  All of it was worth it (cliche, I know).  The Husband even teared up, although he denies it now.

They took her out, The Husband went with.  He came back with a picture of her and she was beautiful.  They brought her out to us, and all I could see were her eyes, but they were beautiful eyes.  Wheeled back to my room, and there was my mom, and I started crying all over again.  When I got back to the room I had my mom and The Husband unwrap her so I could count her fingers and toes.  Cue more tears.

It was quite the journey to get her here, but we are so happy!

She's Here!

Anna was born at 9:36am on Monday morning.  She weighed in at 8 pounds 9 ounces and was 20.5 inches long.  She is absolutely beautiful, and me and The Husband love her to pieces!

We were released to come home from the hospital Thursday, and that's about the time I got the stomach bug from hell.  We've been trying to take care of me, and Anna since, and battling guilt as we discuss breastfeeding and formula due to the fact that I've been to sick to nurse since we got home.  We were able to get a used breast pump, so it looks like Anna will be able to get some breast milk by bottle, and then we'll supplement with formula.

It's been a rough first week, but I promise to post the birth story soon.  Right now I'm focusing on getting better and learning about my little one.

Getting closer to meeting Baby Girl

Well, today is the big day.  Or rather the lead up to the Big Day.  Tonight I go to the hospital to start the induction process.  I'm not going to lie, I'm nervous as heck!  In the past two months so many "caring" moms have told me their birth stories and other peoples horror birth stories that I've got all these images in my brain that won't go away.  I mean, really, was that necessary?  Did they have to do it because it was done to them?

And to jump off on a tangent here, you know how many judgmental people are telling me that they would never have an induction?  I've heard: to many risks; it's not natural; wait for the baby to decide when she's ready; and my favorite, just relax and it will happen.  I'm 8 days past due people.  Screw relaxing, screw waiting on her timeline, and screw natural (honestly with the Femera, it wasn't really a natural conception anyway, why should her birth be all natural?).  I'll take the risks, I want my Baby Girl out!

Ok, tangent over.  Besides being nervous, I'm so super excited!  Baby Girl is going to be here soon!  I can't wait to hold her, and then scold her for taking so long to come out.  The Husband is excited too, although he's trying to hide it.  If I didn't know him better, I'd be really peeved about his attitude.  But it's the same face he presented when we were getting married: happy indifference.  Also, I think he is nervous about the labor and possible c-section.

Off to watch some Vampire Diaries to kill time until tonight.

Bullet Point Update

Have you missed me?  I've missed me!  My computer has been dead for almost three weeks, and I couldn't post at work.  So, here is a whole bunch of updates for you:

• Baby Girl is officially past due.  She is also huge.  Had an ultrasound done today to determine size, and the doctor is estimating her at 9lbs 5oz.  He said he could be off a pound in either direction.  Let's hope he's an over-estimator!
• We've scheduled an induction date.  I will go in to the hospital next Sunday the 28th and start the process.  That means by this time next week I should have a little (haha) baby girl in my arms!  It's really nice to have an end date in sight.
• However, my cervix remains relatively unchanged.  The doctor says it is not "favorable" and that my odds of having a c-section are way up.  Add that to her size and he told me to mentally prepare myself for that.  Joy.  I was really hoping to not have to cross that bridge, but I will do whatever it takes to get Baby Girl here.
• The little popsicle hoarding doorbell ringing annoyance girl next door came over to check on me last night.  She can't quite grasp the concept that Baby Girl was due Saturday and still isn't here.  She told me that as long as we were waiting, why not wait until March so they could have the same birthday?  
• Then, she asked me if I was excited to have this baby because "You used to be so skinny!"  I'm taking it as a compliment.  Someone thought I was skinny before!
• Speaking of weight, I'm down two pounds from my pre-pregnancy weight.  Factor in 9 pounds of baby, and I'm feeling pretty damn good about myself.
• I have become addicted to The Vampire Diaries.  Net flix does not get them to me fast enough.  Stephan is cute and all, but Damon has me won over.  And the fact that they routinely make fun of Twilight?  Love it!  (I'll let you in on a little secret: I'm not a fan of the Twilight movies.  The Husband, however, is a major Twi-hard.)
• I'm also reading a ton.  I will take any and all book suggestions!  I'm currently re-reading The Wheel of Time series.

I think that's about it.  I'm off work on maternity leave (not by choice, my contract ran out of money for the fiscal year) and trying to enjoy my free time while I can.  Hopefully the computer keeps working so I can update you guys more often!