Rape

"Girls who are raped are asking for it."

That is what he said.

He who I once had a great deal of respect for, someone I looked at and thought "man," but now think "young naive boy."  At first I thought he was joking.  The conversation that led to this statement was a discussion about how much younger girls are dressing more and more provocatively as if they are going to the club instead of middle school.  Shocked, I asked for clarification, and he affirmed that girls are asking for it when they are raped.  I was startled by such a statement.  It opened the door to my own naive thinking, that an educated and intelligent person such as himself could possibly think something so generalized and atrocious.  I stared at him, said "Really? You really think that?"  My mind raced to think that people think this statement to be true.  That a woman who is raped is asking for it, ever, whether it be by what she wears or some delusion of body language a man thinks she is portraying.

No.  No woman asks to be raped. Period.

That's why it's rape.

Rape has nothing to do with what a woman wears.  It is all about the rapist and how he feels, how he feels entitled to something that is not his to have. Frankly it's terrifying to think that men and probably even women think that rape has something to do with what the victim did to bring it on.
I found myself wishing I had a line up of all the outfits women were wearing when they were raped, something tangible to throw in this person's face to get them to realize how truly wrong their thinking is, wrong as in erroneous as well as morally wrong.  But I didn't have that, all I had was my own thoughts, my own heart racing, my own debate as to whether or not I should open up and take the conversation a step further with someone who clearly lacks education on the subject.  I did, I opened up. I explained that as someone who has survived rape myself I know for a fact that it has nothing to do with what a woman is wearing, nothing, because I was wearing jeans, a t-shirt, a coat, and tennis-shoes.  Upon hearing this factoid of information, he further spilled his unfortunate way of thinking:

"Well clearly you're an exception."

No....no no no no NO. No. I. Am. not.

Neither was any other woman who has gone through such a living nightmare.  I attempted to educate him further on the matter.  Trying so desperately to open his eyes to something he clearly did not see.  All with my own understanding that there is no way for me to know if he himself has raped someone, for all I know with that thought process he may very well have, thinking she was asking for it.  How unfortunate for him.  My anger towards him turned to pity.  He suddenly looked pitiful to me, pathetic. I already began to look at men entirely different after my own survival of rape, and was yet again reminded of this sad world we live in.  There's no scarlet letters for rapists, there's no way to know if the man you are currently trusting is trust worthy until they rise to the occasion or break that trust.  As women we are taught at a young age to look for signs, signals, red flags, avoid opportunities, yet still somewhere along the lines of 1 in every 6 women in the US has been raped. Even a woman such as myself, meaning a non-reckless behaving individual, can take every precautionary measure imaginable and still find oneself in a horrifying situation.
What baffles me most is that this was a debate that I even encountered.  A debate as to whether or not a woman is asking for it when raped.  There is something missing in our society, education for the male counterparts.  There is plenty of opportunity for women to take self defense courses, education on how to keep yourself safe, but why aren't we putting any efforts into preventing the "she asked for it" mentality?  How does a boy grow up with this idea when rape by definition is specifically based on NOT wanting it.  As far as my recollection goes the only education I know boys receiving on this matter is the saying "No means no."
Which leads me to my own pondering of how do I raise my son to not be a rapist.  The only rapist I know was raised in a seemingly healthy family, was close with his mother, had great respect for his sisters and was very close to them.  I say was because as his actions and his karma would have it he is dead.  I once sat across from his entire family having what seemed to be a bit of a reunion at a diner as they talked highly of him, discussing how wonderful he was, how loving he was, how he was a great father, a great brother, a great son...how does that happen? How can someone so "great" do something so disgustingly despicable?  To leave behind a mourning family asking why him, with me sitting there thinking "of all people why not him?"   What caught my attention the most was how his mother spoke of him, describing him exactly as I would hope to describe my own son one day...how does that happen??  I'll never know, my only hope is that they were doing as many do when talking of the deceased, speaking only positively, that hopefully deep down inside of them they knew of his ill living ways.  As a mother I suppose I can only do the best that I possibly can and leave the rest up to God, to karma, the universe, or powers that be, because ultimately it isn't I who has the choice or the say-so.

One thing is for sure,

no son or daughter of mine will grow up thinking:

"Girls who are raped are asking for it."

Dear Baby (16)

Today is the first day I feel like I can truly imagine how you will fit into our world, our family. I can finally picture what it will be like to come home to a baby you and your nearly kindergartner brother. I'm finally feeling ready. Sure there's still a lot of unanswered questions pertaining to the way my puzzle of life will morph and fit you, but I'm ready.

I can see myself managing parenting two, juggling all that it will entail to be a mother, a teacher, a student, a wife. It's finally feeling right.

I love you through and through, yesterday, today and tomorrow too.

Dear Baby (15)

Goodness gracious.  I had another OB appointment this week.  As always the appointment starts out with weighing...to my surprise I am up to 149.9! Insane to see such a number pop up.  With your brother I got up to about 180, so this isn't anything, but it surprised me more because I don't feel like it.  You've only really made my belly and boobs expand, which is great, however it results in the weight being not as noticeable.

You've been with me for 28 weeks now, I'm eager to see you, find out which features you've inherited from me and your father.  Until then I'll enjoy all the kicks you've been dishing out.

I love you through and through, yesterday, today and tomorrow too.

Dear Baby (14) kick

Your brother finally got to feel you kick!! The look on his face portraying pure joy will forever be engraved in my mind.  Since then he is constantly asking if you are kicking.  When we are looking through baby stuff online he often will say "We should get that for my baby" or "I think my baby would like that."  The other day at Walmart he said he wanted to get shoes for you.  I am astonished by how much he thinks of you.

The number of people noticing how much you have caused my belly to expand has increased significantly.  One woman particularly at work just now noticed that I'm pregnant, she did a double take, pointed at you with a big smile asking "When did that happen!?" It's a beautiful feeling being reminded of your presence by so many people in my life.

My friend Nessa gave me a box of baby clothes that I keep going through to remind myself that you're a girl.   I'm still feeling as though you're too good to be true...it's hard to fully explain.  One thing is for sure, I love you and I can't wait to meet you.  There's a little girl in the infant room at my work that I swear you're going to look like, fluffy blonde hair, blue eyes, adorable as all goodness, she wears the most adorable bows with her hair up like a water fountain on top her head.  I can't wait to hold you...well, I can wait...I'm looking forward to the day.

I remember how phenomenal it was to give birth to your brother, how intense, how focused I was.  I'm sure as the day creeps closer I'll encounter the same fear I had before having him, the overwhelming feeling of being unprepared.  Hopefully I can approach things with even more confidence this time.

I love you through and through, yesterday, today and tomorrow too.

Dear Baby (13) junk food

You've been with me for 23 weeks now...
Here we go again. All you want to eat is junk! Ben & Jerrys Phish food, cinnamon rolls, toaster stroodle, pumpkin pie, whip cream, chocolate milk, cocoa puffs...oh and sour cream n cheddar ruffles, French fries (when did we stop calling them Freedom fries?), sausage pizza, dinner rolls with a ton of butter...the list goes on and on.

Then there's your confusion of night and day. You are far more active at night, even if I am super calm or take a nap in the middle of the day, you still don't start the backflips until the sun goes down.

Your brother chose your room for you, he's over the fact that you aren't allowed to sleep in his bed. I have a feeling he will be extra over the idea once you arrive and wake him in the middle of the night.

Looking at your brother's baby pictures I can't wait to see what you look like. I hope you get your father's blue eyes and my eyelashes like your brother did. I hope you get some strangers ears, either way you're screwed in that department. The rest I'm not too worried about.

I can wait to meet you, I know time is going to fly by, so take your time on your arrival.

I love you through and through, yesterday, today, and tomorrow too.

Dear Baby (12) home

We are in the middle of moving and I am so thankful to soon be able to get things organized for your arrival. So much of the baby stuff has been in the barn I don't have an accurate idea of what all I need for you. With the new house we will finally be able to dig out everything from the garage and sort through it. I've been so stressed out about it I haven't been able to think straight about the day you're in my arms.
It's nice having a feeling of impending relief, instead of impending doom.

Duck

Stuck, like a duck, in the muck.
This sciatica insanity is terrible. The chiropractor has been very helpful, but today I think I reversed the progress.  He gave me this awesome wedge made of foam and rubber that I'm suppose to lay on each day, morning and night for 20 minutes, but work up to that gradually to avoid it becoming painful.
Well that plan didn't quite work out the way it was suppose to. I lied down on the floor with it under my back and set an alarm for 6 minutes. The timer went off and I became a duck stuck in the muck.
I'm guessing I was on it for too long, the chiro told me to take it easy at first and would probably need to roll myself off of it. However, when I tried to roll off I encountered excruciating pain...so I lied there...trying to move a variety of ways, strategizing how to get up. After a variety of attempts I realized there was no way I was getting up by myself.  I texted Roger to see if he was close to being home from work yet, let him know I was stuck on the floor.
A little bit later I hear his feet running up the apartment stairs and I've never been happier to hear that sound in my life. Thank God he was already on his way home. I don't have a clue what I would have done otherwise. Maybe sent Bear downstairs to the neighbors with a note explaining how I am stuck and need help. I'd hate to call paramedics for something so silly, but I'd have to if the neighbors weren't there.
That's just how seriously stuck I was though. No way was I going to get up on my own. Plus lying on your back when you're pregnant isn't good for the baby, blocks an important vein called the vena cava.
Guess I'll just have to make sure I only use this wedge when Roger is home.

Name uh-oh

As many people know, I love learning about the meaning behind names.  My name, Amanda, means "Lovable, fit to be loved" my middle name meaning "Lion of God."  I love Colbert's name meaning: "Renowned, bright, famous" which relates to his first name Roger "famous spearman."

Today I realized I didn't know the meaning behind Delilah, which led me to discovering a very interesting meaning.  I first looked it up on Google..."A seductive and wily temptress," and since I'm poorly educated on the bible I found out she was a woman who betrayed Samson to the Philistines.  So it seems I'm going to have my hands full...hmm.  Especially if she is born when she is supposed to be, she'll be a Capricorn...which is not good news for me, since I've butt heads with them my whole life. I'll be honest, I'm hoping she's born early as a Sagittarius...or even on the cusp.  *fingers crossed*

GIRL! GIRL! GIRL!

 

It's a girl!!!  Looking back on my previous baby posts it's clear that I thought it was a girl from the beginning, and only recently started to think it was a boy.  I flipped through my journals from when I was pregnant with Bear and sure enough I went through the same thing with him...knew it was a boy then a few weeks before the ultrasound thought it could be a girl.  I think that just has more to do with my trying to avoid disappointment by getting myself to come to terms with the other possibility before finding out.

At any rate, I'm SOOO EXCITED!! AHH!! When the doc pointed out the girl parts on the ultrasound I began to cry.  I also cried with Bear, so I know even if it were a boy I would have had tears of joy.  I love knowing before the baby is born, I feel like it makes the bond that much stronger.

This morning before my ultrasound I listened to the song "Hey There Delilah" by Plain White T's which just felt right.  Similarly when I was driving home from Utah and knew I was pregnant (before the test) the song came on and it brought tears to my eyes, I knew it was a girl, but also told myself that it could still be a boy since my want of a girl could easily cloud my judgement. 

Roger is a little bummed...just a little.  He simply doesn't know what he's going to do with a girl.  All the more reason to have a girl.  Right?  Haha. Colbert is excited, but I think he too was a tad bummed since these last few weeks he has been gung-ho about it being a boy.  He is very happy to call her DJ though.

 

 

After the ultrasound, I went to work, and the boys went shopping.  Bear picked out these PJs for DJ.  I love ducks and I am willing to bet that since I look great in yellow, DJ will too.

I also went shopping, but had to wait until after work.  I got these purple jammies with hearts...which are my current obsession, since my name means "lovable" I have a thing for hearts.  It also has a super cute purple heart on the butt.  I didn't know the boys had gone shopping, that part was a surprise when I got home.  I love that I'll have a winter baby, she'll be in these type of warm jammies pretty much the first 3-5 months of her life.

 I also dug out these two quilt kits that I bought a few years ago.  When I was at JoAnns fabric I saw these two quilts, had a coupon, but thought I was absolutely silly for wanting to buy purple quilts for a girl that didn't even exist yet.  My parents' friend Robin told me I should get them anyways, because even if I didn't have a little girl I could still make them as a gift for someone's little girl.

Dear Baby (11) half

Today is the half way point in my pregnancy. Looking at photos of when I was pregnant with your brother, I was much fatter with him. You've made my boobs bigger and my back has more weight on it.

Very soon I get to see if you're growing right and hopefully find out your gender. Earlier in my pregnancy I was thinking you're a girl, but your brother and I are thinking you're a boy these past few weeks. I can't wait either way.

I could hardly sleep last night, it felt like Christmas Eve. Your dad is very excited, as well. He still stands by you being a boy. Stubborn man. But I know he'll be happy either way.

I can't wait to see you on the ultrasound. I love you through and through, yesterday, today and tomorrow too.

Dear Baby (10) back pain

Only one more week until we can dub you a Xander or DJ.  Which are the short nicknames we've given you thus far.  I'm sure once you're born it will change.  When I was pregnant with your brother I thought I would call him Cole, in fact he was called Cole for about 3 weeks or so after he was born, but somehow became Bear.  It suits him more.  Your father calls you Big Al, or Seabass...neither of which I'm a huge fan of.

They say that second pregnancies are 2 months ahead in terms of pain and how you feel and such...I had to start using an elastic band on my pants 2 months earlier this time from my hips already widening, my nausea seemed to start at conception, and the lower back pain has been such an early enduring joy.  I don't know what you're doing in there, shoving your foot into my spine, or pressing on some important nerve, but you've made me fall a handful of times already.  Literally, fall onto my hands and knees.  The first time it happened I was carrying a plate of food...my instinct told me to save the food and avoid hurting you.  I did just that.  I somehow maneuvered myself in such a way that in mid fall I maintained balancing the plate and evenly fell on my knees and bent my arms so I was using my forearms to catch me.  As a result I saved dinner and saved you.

Yesterday and today however have not been so graceful.  The pain has increased so much that your father had to carry me from the kitchen to the bedroom so I could call it a night...ahead of schedule by a couple of hours.  Not sure what you think of all the yelling and cussing I've been doing from the pain, but you're getting good at kicking a ton to make sure I don't forget about you, which is impossible to do by the way.

Hopefully I can get in to see a chiropractor sometime in the next few days...this is beyond just typical preggo pains.  I can't put any weight on my left leg currently and hopping on one foot doesn't really work with how imbalanced a body becomes with pregnancy.

I can't wait to find out if we will be buying pink or blue.  Or rather if we'll be buying pink or digging blue out of the barn.  And if we want to get real technical it won't be much pink if you're a girl, I'm more of a fan of the rest of the colors of the rainbow for girls.  You had better be ready to show your stuff here in a week!

I love you through and through, yesterday, today, and tomorrow too.

Hurt like hell

It seems as though I have managed to get myself so upset that I became physically sick.  It's my new least favorite feeling in the universe, crying so hard I puke.  I don't ever throw up...I think the last time I did, it was 5 years ago when I was incredibly sick...I didn't even throw up from the pain of my appendix trying to burst, when it's to be expected.

I currently feel insanely lost.  Hurt.  And completely unsure of how to proceed.  I know there are things that I have zero control over, and I am letting those go.  I'm good at that usually.  But it doesn't keep things from hurting like hell.

Now I'm left dizzy, head throbbing, unable to sleep.  Miserable.

To answer your question, no, I'm not ok.  So stop asking.  But I will be.  Don't exactly have a choice in the matter.  Being not ok isn't allowed for long...for now it is what it is.  I'll figure out where to go from here in time.

Bump

I've finally developed enough of a bump that people who do not even know me congratulate me, ask when the due date is, or something in regards to Bear becoming a big brother soon.

I will admit that the bump is of course most noticeable in the evening after I've consumed everything in sight like a teenage boy. Luckily the majority of things I'm craving now are all healthy and a wide variety.  I feel like I'm eating all day but when I really think about it, it isn't too much. I (almost) always keep in mind that eating for two doesn't mean double the serving, but that what I consume is also being shared with another being.

I ate some kung pao chicken today for lunch that resulted in baby doing somersaults in my belly.  The movements are ever so slight, but today they were very noticeable. Such an indescribable feeling, doesn't matter how you attempt to explain it, one can never truly understand the feeling until experiencing it. Feeling the baby move is definitely my favorite part of being pregnant. Though I know I'll be saying otherwise when he or she is kicking me in the ribs here in a few months.

Only THREE more weeks until we find out the gender!! I can hardly wait!

Dear Baby (9) eyes

You must be able to see with my eyes because every food I see people eating on TV sounds amazing. Mint chocolate ice cream, macaroni and cheese, green beans, turkey...the list goes on and on. It's getting kind of silly. I don't dare use pinterest anymore because I end up craving it all. Your stomach is not as big as my eyes, so please tone it down a bit. Thanks, love you!

Dear Baby (8) food

I'm not sure who conceived you based on what you are desiring to eat nowadays.  I currently love things that prior to pregnancy I found revolting, example: hummus.  We have it as a snack item at work quite frequently and I've always tried to take at least one bite to show the children it's good to try things we don't like.  Now I can eat a bowl full with wheat thins.  Guacamole is another item that disgusted me, avocados in general are nasty...but when I started talking about how you are the size of an avocado right now, all I (or should I say YOU) want is guacamole dip...specifically the kind your aunt CJ makes.  Then as I continued brainstorming what could possibly sound good right now the idea of pesto noodles came to mind, which sounds absolutely amazing...your father thinks I'm crazy, because I dislike those greatly as well.  So that is what we are having for dinner, you and I, guacamole made by your aunt CJ (because she loves you that much!) and pesto noodles.  Oh, and egg salad sandwich...which isn't too strange, I liked them prior to pregnancy, just odd to crave in combination with pesto noodles and guacamole.  I have also been craving sushi like crazy, which is a no-no while pregnant, except the cooked stuff...so that is what my dreams are made of, godzilla rolls from sushi pier 2 in Reno.  I must make my sushi dreams come true soon, I feel as though I am depriving you greatly by not having some.

I can absolutely feel you moving now, this week has been awesome, usually in the morning when my tummy has shrank a bit overnight due to digestion and such.  Your dad got to feel you move for the first time today too, which is such an incredible experience.

Only 4 more weeks until we find out if you're a boy or a girl.  Your brother and I are going to have so much fun buying you things when we find out.  This week he finally roped me into buying him one of those angry bird stuffed animals that make sound, he wanted more than one, but only got to have one.  Then today while we are passing Target on our way home he tells me that we should get another angry bird for his baby.  I love when he calls you his baby.  He's going to be such an amazing big brother.

I love you through and through, yesterday, today, and tomorrow too.

Boob (update)

Good news.  My third boob is just that, just boob.  Weird, painful, whatever.  All that matters is that it's regular breast tissue.  Yay!

Eery

I had the most intense dream last night.  So strange.  Both Bear and I slept in the living room last night, the couch is the most comfortable spot in the house for me right now for some weird preggo reason, I promised Bear he could sleep with me so he asked to sleep on the other couch.  We have one panel in the vertical window blinds that gets pushed aside, leaving a view off the balcony.  Our freezer is on the balcony, which blocks half the view through the blinds.  Laying on the couch I can see right outside of it.

In my dream I wake up (I hate when dreams start this way), I notice that the view through the blind is completely black, normally I can see the street lights.  I try to just go back to sleep, but can't shake the feeling of being watched.  I roll over and try to go back to sleep, only to wake up to Bear saying he sees a man outside, his voice is panicked, he's scared.  I get up, the sliding glass door is open, the blinds drawn to the side, when they weren't before.  I see a figure on the balcony, a guy of medium build, scruffy face, blonde hair, black pants, brown jacket...I notice the screen of the door is closed.  I suddenly find myself running at it full force, breaking down the screen door, taking him down with it, knocking his head against the metal balcony fencing, knocking him out.  I leave to go get help...then the dream like clicks fast forward or something, because next thing I know he's gone and a neighbor tells me he saw the guy go such and such way.  I get in my car and drive that way, somehow the neighbor is with me in the car.

We're driving down this winding road, how the heck the guy managed to get this far is beyond me...but we're driving nonetheless.  Somehow we're outside of the car now, we've found the guy, I tackle him, I chop off his arms, at the elbows.  I stand up with a rock about to smash it on his skull and somehow he manages to run off.

The hunt is on again.  The police have been notified now of the man, he's wanted for several murders and burglaries in the area that night, and prior child molestation.  Which is when I realize where I recognized him from, I get notified of any sex offenders in the area of where I live, I had just received notice of his moving in a few blocks away (in real life).  I'm driving around the streets, alone, trying to find him.  I am at a stop sign and he runs in front of my car right as I'm about to drive forward, his body slams onto the hood of my car, he quickly scrambles to get up and run, his jacket and self soaked in blood.  He runs diagonally across the street towards a tiny coffee shack stand and I hit the gas pedal with full force towards him.  My car smashes him into the coffee stand, he's folded in half, his legs beneath my car, his torso above with his severed arms laid out across the hood.  I get out of the car, I check his pulse, he's in fact dead.  I get back in the car, call the police to notify them where he is, and drive back home.

I go up the stairs of my complex, walk in through the front door.  Walk to the balcony and attempt to put the screen door back on his track, but it's bent like crazy so I just set it upright to the side. Close the glass door and see Bear still sleeping soundly on the couch.  I kiss his forehead and walk to the bedroom where Roger is just waking up to his alarm for work.  He see's me covered in blood and asks what happened, I begin to tell him and the dream switches over to me seeing the police talking, and some local citizens, all talking about how they don't blame me for killing him, that I did what they all wanted to do, so they don't plan to press charges at all.  Then I wake up.

I look out the blind, I can see the trees across the street, lit up just fine from the street lights.  Bear is safe and sound.  I go back to sleep, with the eeriest feeling.

Freakiest dream I think I've ever had to date. 

Boob

This strange thing happened when I got pregnant, I gained this freaky third boob thing, kind of in my armpit...when I wear tank tops or my swimsuit, it looks like I've got this funky third boob going on.  Initially I did what I always do...rely on WebMD.  However, WebMD told me it was cancer, so you fail WebMD.  A friend of a friend said she got one with her second pregnancy, that it was just a milk duct that had traveled and settled in a new home--so to speak.  I didn't worry too much, then I had my first OBGYN appointment and the Doc simply told me to keep an eye on it, as long as it didn't get bigger, become painful, or have any other significant change, then all was well and we'd leave well enough alone.  However, it started hurting a couple of weeks ago.

I had my 15 week appointment at the OBGYN yesterday, let her know that it had become painful.  Now my third boob gets to have an ultrasound all for itself! Haha.  I'm guessing it's fine, finding humor in it where I can.

Dear Baby (7) most part

I am 14 weeks along in my pregnancy now, you are estimated to be the size of a lemon. Now that I'm in my 2nd trimester I'm feeling a lot better...for the most part.

When I told your brother that you're the size of a lemon he said "Wow! That's huge!" Then he sang "Rock a Bye Baby" to you, gave you kisses and talked silly to you to make you laugh. I told him that you love him already. He put his ear up to my tummy and asked you if you're a boy or a girl...you told him you're a boy. Yet the whole time we were visiting Las Vegas he said you're a girl.

Only 6 more weeks until I find out. Maybe I'll go try to find out early in a couple of weeks. Currently I'm ok with waiting the 6 weeks, but who knows how I'll feel in two weeks.

I love you through and through, yesterday, today, and tomorrow too.

Dear Baby (6) bras

Dear Baby,

Today I caved.  I went and bought new bras.  You've managed to enhance my womanly figure by two cup sizes...just as your brother did.  I spent two hours trying to figure out what the heck to get, initially because I couldn't find the same type I normally get, and then after settling for something else I saw a tiny stash of the ones I like...which resulted in more trips to the fitting room.  All I could think about while looking was how much you're changing my life before you even get here...and if I should buy a bra that is super comfy but ugly, or just regular comfy and cute...bought both of course.

I swear I can already feel you swiftly moving from time to time, mostly as I lay awake in the middle of the night pondering various debacles in my life.  It's comforting, it is as though you're letting me know that despite all of the things keeping me awake at night, you're here and nothing else matters.

Your brother is absolutely insisting you're a girl.  He is excited to call you DJ, short for Delilah Joy.  And if you turn out to be a boy, well then he's naming you Commando...after his favorite way to dress.  I promise that if you are a boy I'll convince him of a more socially suitable name.  Though Commando is no worse than Blanket Jackson.

Draft

Posting this now...writing about it later.  Because it explains my LIFE!

Dear Baby (5)

Your brother and I went to Walmart yesterday trying to find a Nerf gun that he could operate himself, the ones Uncle Joey has require to be cocked back and it requires more umph than Bear has, and I got irritated by constantly having to help Bear each time he wanted to shoot Joey. So to Walmart we went.

When we got there he changed his mind and wanted a Thor hammer...luckily we didn't find one, so he resumed finding a Nerf gun. He found a set of two little ones, that to me looked easier to operate. I figured he'd see them and think one could be for him and one for Joey. Instead he said "Mama, this blue one can be for me and this yellow one can be for my baby!" Then he stopped looking at me, looked at my tummy and said "What do you think, baby? Do you like it?" Holding up the gun to show you. "Yup, baby likes it, let's get them."

Your brother is already preparing for you. Moments like this happen all of the time. On weekend mornings he comes in and lays his head on my tummy, talking to you. He told me that he wants you to sleep on the bed that is under his bed. He also tells me about all the things he's going to teach you. He's currently practicing his sword skills on a water bottle and says he's going to teach you how to practice like him.

He already loves you so much. I hope he's just as happy to have you after you're born.

Baby Lime

Finally! I finally get to talk about my baby!  Baby is now the size of a lime.  I finally got to see baby via ultrasound.  I also got to hear the heartbeat for the first time, which is beating 180 beats per minute, which is great.  Old wives tales say that a high heart rate means it's a girl, so for now I'm going to refer to the baby as a her, because saying "it" just doesn't feel right.  Hearing the heart beat and seeing her move brought tears to my eyes.  She was moving around, waving, and sucking her thumb already.  I'm so glad there's only one, and not twins.  I asked the doctor to be SUPER sure of it, which wasn't a problem because she loves doing ultrasounds and seeing pictures, she was pretty funny talking to the baby just as I do...when I'm alone though, haha.

A few people had already guessed that I was pregnant based on my Facebook postings and such.  Some people I shared the info with early because they just straight up asked.  See, it's true what I said, if you want to know about something I'm alluding to in my blog, simply ask.

My weight compared to last week's appointment is down by two pounds.  Last week I was 128, today I am 126.  Doc wasn't concerned, she explained that baby is measuring exactly how she should at 11 weeks so all is well.  Same thing happened when I was pregnant with Colbert, lost weight during the first trimester and then it fluctuated during the second, followed by becoming a balloon in the third.  My doctor then was very concerned about Bear's growth and did extra ultrasounds and such, predicting that he would be like a 5 pound baby, pfft...he was 7 pounds 12 ounces.

The doctor predicts that my due date is January 10th, 2013...which I disagree with by 5 days.  I know the exact conception date...which maybe I'll argue with her next time.  Same thing happened with Colbert, they estimated his due date to be May 6th, but I explained that I knew the exact conception date and it was adjusted to April 26th.  Had he continued baking for another 7 days he would have been a pound heavier, no thanks.

I asked Colbert again if the baby in my tummy is a boy or a girl.  He said "Hmm...well...a boy...or maybe a girl."  He was able to properly predict with a few other women, maybe he's just lost his mojo.  The appointment to find out the gender is 9 weeks away.  Which is going to drive me insane waiting that long...remember what I said in my previous post, how impatient this pregnancy has made me.  Ugh.

We already have names picked out, we had picked out 3 boy names and 2 girl names back when we were first dating 7 years ago.  The names left are:  Delilah Joy or Hazel Mackenzie, and Alexander Sebastian or Logan James.  So far I'm thinking Delilah if a girl, and Alexander if a boy.  The name Delilah came from the song "Hey there, Delilah" and Joy from Roger's grandmother.  Hazel comes from my grandmother, Mackenzie comes from the first little girl that I fell in love with when I first started teaching, she wasn't even in my class but when I saw her I thought to myself "That is exactly what my future daughter will look like," which I'm pretty sure is accurate because Colbert looks like the male version of her.  The name Alexander comes from my favorite book Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, and Sebastian as in Sebastian from The Little Mermaid and although my middle name, Ariell, doesn't come from the movie I love the Little Mermaid...clearly, given that I have a tattoo of her on my shoulder blade.  Then there's Logan James...it's a name that Roger came up with and he likes it...but I have a nephew with a similar name soo I'm not too keen on it.  Then there's the name Tandy Danielle...however, Roger dislikes it greatly, so I let that name go.

You can pretty much guarentee that I will be bombarding my blog with baby updates.  A lot of Dear Baby ones, so for those who care about my pregnancy they can read that and those who don't it will be easy to avoid.  We'll see if I muster up the ability to write about anything else other than baby.  We shall see.

Dear Baby (4)

June 20, 2012 (10 weeks)

Your uncle Joey is sleeping over tonight, who is possibly your brother's favorite person in the world. The two of them are almost 5 years apart, just like your brother and you will be. They get along so well, it seems to be a perfect age difference...for now at least, we'll see how things are when joey is 13 and Bear is 8...may be saying something different entirely. But at least for now I'm taking comfort in the age gap between the two of you.

I can picture everything going so well...or at least I'm trying to, in order to calm my nerves.

Tomorrow I will finally get to see you on the ultrasound and finally announce to the world that you exist. I can hardly wait.

Dear Baby (3)

June 19, 2012 (10 weeks)

You have me exhausted! I can't sleep, nothing sounds good to eat, and my skin disease is freaking out making it generally painful.

Yet I am thrilled to have you. Ultimately all of the aches, pains, and lack of sleep are completely worth it to see that you make it here a happy and healthy baby.

Only two more days and I get to see you via ultrasound. You already bring so much joy to me, I love you.

Dear Baby (2)

June 14, 2012 (10 weeks)

I'm sitting in the doc waiting room. It's a boring appointment but it is one week closer to the ultrasound when I can finally see you!

My pants already don't fit, don't think I've gained a single pound. My hips are definitely wider already. Normally my knees knock against each other when I walk, but now they are about 2 inches from doing so. I'm already using a hair tie on my button for my pants...feel kind of silly. Your brother let me wear my normal pants until at least 18 weeks. I'm only 10 now and have had to do the hair tie thing for a week and a half already.

I still forget that I'm pregnant from time to time, then someone will ask how you're doing and I remember. I'm definitely more distracted with this pregnancy. I'm just as determined to keep up with work stuff, lifting and playing with the kiddos. My lower back, though, by the end of the day is throbbing and the drive home makes it freak out and stiffen.

Can't wait until next week. Same time, same place. :)

Dear Baby

June 11, 2012 (9 weeks)

Your brother refers to you as a she, initially said you'd be a baby brother, but now says there's two babies...one boy, one girl. I for one am hoping he is wrong about there being two. One will be just fine, thank you.

You make me incredibly nauseous when I smell meat cooking. I've found a loop hole so I can get protein other than from nuts and beans. I make casserole type dishes, so noodles, broccoli, chicken, with Alfredo all in one with a lid on the pan so I don't have to smell it. Tonight we had sweet n sour chicken...it was amazing. It's incredible how heightened my sense of smell and taste are now that I'm carrying you. You sure do inspire me to eat weird things. Sweet n sour chicken followed by Hershey pie then French onion dip with ruffles chips.

Since I already know how this all goes, I'm even more impatient. With your brother I was fine with waiting for him to make his debut, he brought out the patience in me. You, however, have created a very impatient mama. I've got to work twice as hard to keep myself in check. I know I need to slow down, take it down a notch, and I'm going to work on that.
I can't wait to see you on the ultrasound next week. Nervous, but excited.
I love you so much already.

Hard

May 28, 2012
It is so incredibly hard to keep this secret to myself.  I am 8 weeks pregnant, after wanting another child for the last two years, I am finally pregnant.  Those who know me, know how terrible I am at keeping my own secrets.  This is a huge challenge for me.  There are people that know already of course, Colbert was so excited and told his world, however it isn't something that I can speak freely about yet.  There's still some people that I haven't told, quite a few.  Plus there's always that risk during the first trimester of miscarriage, I don't want to jump the gun so to speak.  Trying to keep my finger off that trigger like I had mentioned in Until...which if you didn't realize was meant to be taken metaphorically.

Full Fear

I am fearful.  Scared.  Borderline terrified.  Of having another child.  Not because two children are more difficult than one.  I've taken on classrooms filled with more children than the typical person could care for, all while providing a developmentally appropriate environment for them to thrive in.  But I did so well the first time.

You hear the term "throwing away the first pancake." Your first child is supposed to be the experimental one...basically giving you a free pass when you royally mess them up, because you don't have a clue what you're doing, you're flying by the seat of your pants.  I did so well with my first.  And not just by my standards...by pretty much everyone else that meets him.  I use to think that I was just like any other mom, thinking her child is so amazing, and then more and more people began to compliment his demeanor.  I feel like I should be happy with just one.  I don't think I get to take credit for it, temperament and personality, and pure luck created my son.  I stare at him often, wondering where did I go right, how did I get him.  It gets to me...how nothing is wrong.

So because I was blessed with such an amazing child, I am scared that God, the Universe, whomever, will look at me and think "Really? You want another one? Now you're just being greedy..." Because I have been given such an amazing child.  Then they're going to punish me for being greedy...because that makes perfect illogical sense.

Then there's the expectation.  I did so well with him...I feel like he's created this standard for the type of child I can create.  I'm basically scared that I'm going to screw up the second round through

I'm also scared that having a second child could mess with my first...what if he's so amazing simply because he's an only child.  Part of me hopes that if that were his fate then I won't be granted the opportunity for another child.

For me it takes such a leap of faith for a second child.  I want one, but it still scares me.  I am a strong believer in fate, and I won't be given anything I can't handle...deep down I know that.  It's just the surface level that keeps me from always seeing it.  That's why I write it down.  I write down my fears, I let them go, set them free.  Here goes nothing.

Last Wish

Sort of out of left field here, but regardless I want some sort of starting to my last wish.  I know in order for it to count worth shit I have to get it officially notarized or something like that.  At any rate...

When I die, firstly...I want my organs donated. I wish I could stipulate that my organs only go to good people, but I'm not god and can't really be the judge of that, so I'll leave that part to fate.  And in case of a horrifying situation if my son, or any other future children of mine also die...like if we get into a horrific car accident...then I'd want their organs donated as well. 

Secondly, I want to be cremated.  Ashes split in half.  Half of them buried with Sammantha, the other half used in fireworks.  If my research is correct then I first need to get permission from Sammantha's family who owns the plots...which I think is the Greene side of the family, her biological father's family.  And as for the fireworks thing, there's several companies that will do it.  http://www.heavensabovefireworks.com/

So...that's all for now.  *shrug*

Deep

(an old post that I'm ready to set free)
I, in this moment, believe that I will never love as deep as I did once.  I loved a man so fiercely that the world stopped when I was in his arms.  A once in a life time type of love.  He sparked everything inside of me that struggled to be ignited.  He alone is responsible for opening my eyes to who I am, who I can become, who I hope to be.  He showed me how to dream, that having my own dreams was worth while.  He probably doesn't know it, and it is probably best that he not, because I know it could shatter him further to know that I loved him so deeply, yet still let it all go to waste.
Why you ask? Logic... Fear... Mostly fear if I'm being honest with myself.  Fear that I would be wrong.  Fear that what I felt at that time would end, just like all of the other loves that had come before.  I am pro at preemptive strikes.  I have dozens of books that I have read from chapter one to middle or nearly the end, because I can't handle endings.  It's a part of me that still struggles to grow up, to face facts, to take chances.  I've lost so many people, so many loves, mostly the love for a best friend, which is similar to a romantic love, it takes as much risk and commitment in the way that I handle friendships...I feel that I've already lost so much, I don't think I can take anymore.
He loved me unlike any man ever has.  He told me that he was happy for me to be happy, even if that meant not being with him.  Which to me is the ultimate love.  To love someone so much that you just want them to be happy.  I let him go for that exact reason, I couldn't imagine being who he deserved in order for him to be truly happy.  Maybe it's cruel of me to think I would be a fair judge of that call, but I called it no less.
I'm always loved more than I can reciprocate.  Men who in the past have struggled to fall in love, seem to fall so hard for me, so quickly, it's borderline insanity sometimes.  I'm guessing that some may read this and think "is this chick complaining? really? I would kill for that."  Well...it's like getting swept off your feet the minute before you learn how to walk, and never being set down.  I'm never fully ready for it, hoping I'm ready, but never quite ready, and the power is taken away from me before I even feel it's full force, before I even reach the realization of what I'm capable of.  The only time I made it past that brink was when I fell for this man, because I fell for him before he fell for me, or maybe it was instantaneous on both sides, only he could clarify that.  I literally fell in love with him the second I laid eyes upon him.  Every cliche in any love book read could be applied to this love I once had.
Amanda means lovable, fit to be loved.  What a cursed blessing.  Couldn't that have been paired with a name that means capable of whole hearted love?
Don't get me wrong, I am happy.  I have everything that I logically could want.  It's simply a feeling that I have, in this moment, at this point in time, in regards to a love, deeper than the galaxies are far.

Myth

School Readiness Myths:

It is not unusual to hear school readiness “myths” in the broader culture. These typically are not based on sound educational theory. Here are a few common school readiness myths and the accompanying correct information:

Myth #1: Learning the ABCs/alphabet is crucial to school readiness. The Truth: Learning the ABCs/alphabet is a memorization skill. While it is important, and will help children understand the idea of alphabetical order in the future, learning to recognize and name letters and identify their sounds is even more important.

Myth #2: Children need to know how to count to 50 before going to first grade/primary school. The Truth: Similar to learning the ABCs/alphabet, counting to 10, 50, or 100 is a rote memorization skill. Again, while it helps children understand that there is an order to numbers, far more important is understanding the idea of 1-to-1 correspondence (that each number you count has a corresponding object, person, year, etc. to go with it) and understanding quantity (i.e., that “three” means “three objects”).

Myth #3: The more “teacher-directed” the learning, the better. In other words, if a teacher is directly telling children something, that will increase their learning. The Truth: Actually, we know that children internalize concepts more fully when they are doing things – when they are digging, building, balancing, jumping, writing, counting, etc. vs. being told by someone else.

Myth #4: The more a program looks like the “school” we remember as children (desks, teacher up in front of the classroom, etc.), the more the children will learn. The Truth: Young children learn best in an environment that allows them to make choices (builds decision-making skills and independence); to select their own learning materials for at least part of the day (children are inherently motivated to learn); and empowers them to try new things with a teacher who guides the learning (children learn through active engagement with the people and materials in their environment).

Myth #5: Children need quiet to learn. The Truth: Actually, children need a language-rich environment where caring adults provide responsive language interactions (your child makes a sound; you respond); where children’s language is expanded (your child points to a cat and says “cat”; you say – “Yes, that striped cat is getting ready to climb the tree”); and where new vocabulary is regularly introduced.

Myth #6: Learning to write is all about letter formation. The Truth: While letter formation is one part of learning to write, equally, or even more important, is understanding the idea of recording one’s ideas on paper. When a child makes some scribbles and says “This is my daddy,” write your child’s words on the picture and she will begin to make the connection between the spoken and written word. Regularly record what your child says. Longer dictated stories can become illustrated “books” which can be laminated to read again and again.

Learning some “school skills” like lining up and raising hands before transitioning to school will certainly make the transition to formal schooling easier. However, what is most important is giving children the chance to fully explore and experiment in an environment with caring adults who guide, support, and extend their learning.

 Source: http://www.brighthorizons.com/

Open

Knock it off.

I refuse to write by pussyfooting around other people's potentially hurt feelings.  If something I have written has hurt your feelings, take a step back and realize: I probably didn't mean it that way!  I haven't set this blog as one that requires permission to read, but today I contemplated it.  However, then I would find myself pussyfooting because I would know my exact audience.  I write with the assumption that anyone in my life could read this.  When I'm writing about someone in particular I keep in mind that that exact someone could read it, and ask myself if I would be OK with their reaction to it.  I'm vague in some cases for a reason, don't read into it thinking you know what it is that I'm trying to say.  If you're curious about what I'm really talking about in some cases, please, PLEASE just ask me.  Believe it or not, I'll probably tell you exactly what's up.  Or if I'm not comfortable disclosing it, I'll thank you for your interest and let you know that I'm not in a place to explain further, for example things in regard to my work since a lot of it is confidential.

Anyhow, I hope to continue leaving this blog as open to all.  My previous blog (on MySpace) was nice because I could set some posts to a specific audience and some for everyone.  I miss that option greatly, but haven't found another blog like it.  Until then I will continue writing, and I will not pussyfoot around your potentially hurt feelings.

Oh and in case you're wondering, yes, this is written towards a specific person who decided to interpret my words into something else entirely, and instead of coming to me directly they sobbed about it to someone else.

KNOCK.  IT.  OFF.

Heal

The incisions are healing.  I Googled laparascopic appendectomy and came across this awesome video of what it looks like.  I wish I would have known they could create a DVD, then I would have totally asked for one.  I'll ask tomorrow, I imagine they have to keep record of it, whether or not they could make a DVD of it post-op I'm not sure.  Here's a link to the video on YouTube:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4s69S1u5YdA
I think the video is sooo cool to watch, I wish I would have found it prior to the surgery to know even more what to expect.


I took the bandages off today.  Which hurt, not so much the skin, but the actual muscle that was being pulled beneath the skin.  Strange feeling.  Made me slightly nauseated, strange feeling.  I cried a bit at first when I saw them, because the stretch marks from having Bear were bad enough.  Then I cleaned the area and the incision in the middle isn't bad at all, won't even be noticeable once fully healed, just as the doctor said.  My belly button looks different, but that's not too big of a deal since everybody has a different looking belly button.  Once I saw that the lowest incision required the most stitches I understood why it hurt more than the others, that's probably the exit area since the tool used at the end to take the chunk of appendix out of the body is larger.

Everyone keeps asking why they cut in the middle, since the appendix is on the right side.  Since it was a laparoscopic appendectomy, which means they put a camera in one incision, and two tools in the other holes to cut it out, they can do the incision from a different location, for example the middle on me.  They inflated me like a balloon to make everything easier to see and access everything. Sometimes they put the other holes closer to the appendix, but the doctor was kind enough to make sure the lowest one could be covered up with a bikini bottom.  I also think that they did it in the middle because they thought that maybe the appendix had burst, (CT scan showed that it hadn't, but surgery was 5 hours later so things could have changed) which would have required access to a broader area.

It really does feel like I'm missing something internally.  Such a bizarre feeling.  After I gave birth to Bear, it made sense that I would have that empty feeling.  However, the appendix is so insanely small that I didn't think it was going to feel any different.  I still have internal pain where it was located, which after watching the video it makes sense, since it was cut and burned out of me.


All in all I think everything is going fairly well.  Yesterday I was able to do the dishes and get some laundry done, but I think I over did it, I was in a lot more pain this morning.  I was able to sit on the floor for a bit, which I need to get my body use to for work.  I find out tomorrow when I get to go back to work.

Ouch!

On Wednesday, while at work, before I had to leave for the day my stomach was starting to really hurt. I had just finished up a stressful conversation and figured it was just stress getting to me. Went and picked up the Bear, found out he didn't have T-ball practice after all, since he would have a game on Thursday. After watching Puss In Boots a handful of times this past weekend Bear kept asking for a sword that he had seen at Target, which he actually called "The store at the exit for summer slides." I decided to spoil him after creating home made versions of swords the past few days. While walking through Target the pain suddenly got much worse, I was struggling just to walk. The pain was right around my belly button but my whole abdomen hurt. I breathed through it, got Bear some foam swords and hopped back in the car home.

When I got home I thought the pain was getting better, but when I stood up out of the car I had a stabbing pain followed by radiating pain. Thought maybe it was the worst gas bubble of my life and should take a hot bath to calm it down. Went straight to the tub with my legs up against my chest praying to god for the pain to go away. About 20 minutes in I realized the pain was just getting progressively worse, ate some tums and laid down on the bed. Struggled to find a position that didn't hurt. The pain ranged from moderate to severe, enough to put me in tears, and although I don't have the greatest pain tolerance, I never cried from the pain of labor with Bear. Then the pain started to move to the lower right side of my abdomen. I remembered hearing warnings about this pattern of pain being appendicitis.

I did what anyone does when in severe pain. Turned to WebMd symptom checker. While I was clicking on the symptoms, red boxes kept popping up saying things like "If you are experiencing abdominal pain made worse by pressing on right lower abdomen please seek emergency medical attention," which led me to do what anyone else does...deny deny deny (what do you mean that's not what anyone else would do? pfft). "I don't need to go to the ER, if I go to the ER they're just going to tell me it's gas and I will have spent 300 bucks for fricken gas problems!" I'll just wait it out.

Throughout the night I tried to find a comfortable way to sleep. Finally was able to lay on my right side in the fetal position, and as long as I didn't move, the stabbing pain only happened occasionally. Normal, right? Pain causing me to cry...pain worse than contractions when I was giving birth...no reason to go to the ER...this is just gas. Uh-huh...

Eventually I fell asleep, like around 3am, woke up at 6am...still in pain, but the stabbing pain wasn't there. Alright, I must be ok. Right? Uh-huh... exhausted and my intuition still urging me to call the doctor I called in to work. Feeling guilty for calling in, despite pain and exhaustion. That's how deep the denial ran. Also thought to myself, I hope this gets serious so they feel bad for thinking I need to set up my own sub. I Googled appendicitis some more, checking symptoms...the pain was coming and going, sort of...so it couldn't be. I didn't have a fever, didn't have diarrhea...my abdomen was swollen, but that could be from gas too you know. So I continued on the path of denial. Then I saw a site that said to press on the abdomen everywhere except where the appendix lived...I did, nothing hurt...didn't hurt one bit when I pressed everywhere that I thought I was feeling pain. Then I pressed down where the appendix lives. HOLY HELL THAT HURT!! Alright, alright, calling doctor.

Made an appointment for 915, perfect to get Bear to school first. Took Bear to school...waddled back to my car...still denying the level of pain I was in. Headed to the doctor's office. Sat in the waiting room, hunched over, with a smile on my face, pretending everything was OK.

Nurse calls my name, I wince as I try to stand up, walk it off like it didn't happen. She asks how I am "Pretty crappy to be honest, but that's what I'm here for." *big smile* Check my weight...126 lb...consistent with the past 6 months, nice. Nurse asks me to describe what's going on...she asks "Do you still have your appendix?" I laugh and say "Yup, and that's why I am here, need confirmation before I go spending money for the ER." She checks my pulse "Is your heart rate normally this high?" laughter..."No...not unless I'm running. It doesn't feel high..." followed by checking my blood pressure. "Is your blood pressure normally this elevated?" again, nervous laughter "No...usually on the low side." Nurse leaves saying the Doctor will be right with me.

Doctor comes in, same song and dance "Do you still have an appendix?" etc. She tells me to lay down and warns that she's going to poke around. She starts everywhere that I said it doesn't hurt to press. Doesn't hurt. She goes to press down where it does hurt and "OOOWWW!!!!" followed by instant tears. Doctor apologizes and says she's very suspicious of it being appendicitis, since she said she didn't even press down as hard as she should have needed to for it to hurt. I pee in a cup to make sure I'm not pregnant, comes back negative as expected. She sets up an appointment for a CT scan a couple blocks away, but it wouldn't happen until 4pm...so I had 6 hours to kill. Went and picked up the nasty contrast drink to make my insides glow for the scan. I remembered when Sandra had to drink it in high school and we all had a taste, it was the most volatile drink in the universe.

Since I wasn't sure how long a CT scan would take and I didn't know if I'd head straight to the hospital after, I went and got Bear and took him to Grandma and Papa's while I tried to stomach the contrast drink.

<--- Most REVOLTING drink. Period.

After plugging my nose and trying to chug it, I (here's where I get graphic) puked in my mouth, but knew if I threw up I'd just have to start over...so I swallowed it again.  I stopped drinking at that point and brainstormed a game plan to get this stuff down.  Gum! I'll chug and then throw gum in my mouth to cleanse my pallet.  Tried that...worked a little better.  Got some more down, but same result, puked again, caught it in time to swallow back down. NASTY.  Need new game plan.


GTS! (Google That Shit) According to a feed I found via Google about the best way to drink this stuff, using a straw could get the drink past my taste buds.  Alright. Ready (straw in bottle), Set (nose plugged), GO (sucking...).  SUCCESS!  The second I got queasy I stopped and popped the gum back in my mouth to cover the taste.  Repeated this method until bottle was gone.  Took approximately 30 minutes.  Began to dread the inevitable...having to drink the second one in an hour.  Only I'd have to drink it in my car since the appointment was set for 30 minutes after that.  So I planned accordingly, arrived in parking lot to drink nasty stuff before appointment.  Much better success, used the straw from the get go and stared at the clock saying I'd stop when the minute hand changed.  Got through half of it within 5 minutes.  Met goal.  I'd have to drink the other half while in the room with the technician.


Walk in, announce my arrival...experience new symptom...sick bottom.  Ugh.  This sucks.  Bathroom break...then go to get the scan done.  Such a weird experience.  I drink more of the nasty drink, I don't puke.  Then I lay on this narrow table with this huge circle thing at my feet that looks like it could teleport me to another galaxy.  The tech sets up an IV in my right arm, says that I'll smell the medicine then have a warm sensation.  Sure enough I was able to smell it and taste it, so bizarre.  Then they leave and the table moves me through the circle, it begins to power up and make crazy noises as I see the inside of it begin to circulate.  Loud booming male voice tells me to breathe in, then hold my breath.  Then the table moves me slowly back out of the circle.  The tech comes back in and gives me something else in my IV, warning me that it will make me feel very warm, like a hot flash and I may feel like I've peed my pants, but she promises I won't.  Sure enough I suddenly get very hot and literally felt like I had peed my pants...my pants that I technically wasn't wearing, they were pushed down with the waist at my thighs instead of having to waste time getting in a gown.  Had a blanket draped over me though, so I guess it felt like I peed the blanket, haha.  Same booming voice starts up telling me to breathe and hold my breath...then it's done.  Tech tells me my doc put in the order to be priority so I should hear from my doctor fairly soon.  I assume fairly soon means in like an hour so I head back to Fernley.  I'm still in denial that it's anything serious, since whenever you see appendicitis on TV they are in SEVERE pain, vomiting, and have to have their appendix taken out by the doctor that just happens to be there at the house party when they are conveniently snowed in...and they use like house hold items and chop the legs off their great grandmother's table to make it lower like an operation table. (Reference: Everwood, when character Bright's appendix nearly bursts)



10 minutes later my phone rings.  I swerve into the right lane to exit quickly and take the call, thinking, whoa, the doctor is already calling...maybe she's calling to check on me.  Turns out she had already talked to the radiologist and he says my appendix is still intact but the walls are thick and inflamed, aka acute appendicitis.  When you hear "acute" you think it's no big deal, wrong.  Big deal, life threatening deal in terms of appendicitis.  Doc tells me to go to the ER at Renown and that she'd call them ahead of time so they'd have a room ready for me upon arrival, she wants a surgeon to have a look at me.  She doesn't tell me if I'm going to need surgery...just that she wants a surgeon to look at me.  Well...alrighty then.


I call people to let them know I'm headed to the hospital.  I tell Roger to take Bear to his T-ball game and I'll let him know if he needs to drive into Reno or not.  I show up, fill out paperwork.  Sure enough they have a room ready for me.  Nurse hands me a gown to change into. I change and sit down.  Doctor walks in and asks a few questions, how it started, comes and presses on my tummy, doesn't press too hard on my appendix which was polite of him.  Tells me he's already looked at the scan and thinks I need to go straight to surgery.  I tell him, alright.  He asks if I need pain relief...I tell him I think I'm ok...he convinces me to take some by saying "There's no reason to be tough right now, if you're in any pain, you should relieve it."  I agree.

Nice nurse lady sets up an IV.  She gives me morphine.

NEW BEST FRIEND ---->

Then starts an antibiotic, warning that it'll make my head hurt at first once half of it is in.  She gets about 1/4 of it in and IT HURTS! "WHOA! You weren't kidding about the headache...my neck hurts worse than my abdomen!" Nurse grows concerned, saying that she hasn't even gotten half of it injected yet, I tell her it's a good thing she started with the morphine, and that at least it's distracting me from the pain my appendix is causing.

I text the universe, let everyone know that I'm going in to surgery soon.  I call Roger and tell him to get his butt there asap.  I wasn't scared, just agitated that every nurse or doc that walked in asked if I was really alone.  Which made me feel like they knew something that I didn't...or that I'd be wheeled off to surgery any second and needed a person to advocate for me in case something happened on the operating table.

Roger shows up and the doctor comes in and says that I won't be going in for surgery until 830pm, so they would set me up in a room upstairs.  *sigh* Alrighty.  We move upstairs, I feel like an Egyptian goddess as they glide my bed through the hallways (Morphine's really workin it's magic!).  I get a room all to myself.  Thank goodness.  I'm in no mood to socialize.


I catch Roger up on everything that has happened today.  We talk about how much in shock we are that it really is appendicitis, we both agree that we imagined it to be something so severe that there's no questioning going to the hospital.  Though the nurse I spoke with upon arrival got after me for not coming into the ER the night before when I was in so much pain I was curled up in a ball in pain.  I double check that Bear can sleep over at Gma's and that his aunt CJ can watch him...Roger is surprised and mentions how he thought we'd be able to go home after.  I laugh a bit...no, this is surgery, they will be removing a piece of me and I'll probably not be able to even walk for 12 hours after at least, and then about two to three weeks of recovery at home afterwards, unless they do laparoscopic appendectomy, then the recovery time is quicker....according to WebMd.  Which is where I've gotten all of my information about anything happening to me in the past 24 hours.  Then Roger complains that he'll have to sleep in a hospital...I tell him he can go home and get some sleep and pick me up tomorrow instead if he needs to, as long as he stays until after my surgery to make sure I survive.  He mentions being hungry, I realize he hasn't eaten dinner, I tell him he can go get food when I'm in surgery, the Surgeon can call his cell if there's a problem.  However both of our cell phones are about to die, haha, of course! Roger had already taken my phone to my car to charge it there, his was about to die as well.  I tell him to add that to the list of things to do while getting food.  Then a nurse wheels in a bed for Roger, telling him how to set up his bed.  Issue resolved, Roger will be staying the night, whether he likes it or not.

Times begins to move incredibly slow.  I stare at the clock and listen in on the conversations the nurses are having.  There's a dilemma about how to transport the patients to their destinations for surgery and other things.  I anticipate the nurse coming in to explain things soon.  Sure enough she does.  Lets me know that I'll be going down the PACU (because I totally know what that means) unit as soon as they have someone to take me there.  A few minutes later some guy shows up to take me.  Roger leaves to go get food, he needs it, he's grumpy, and we need our cell phones charged.

I arrive to the PACU unit, and the nurse (like the 10th one I met in a 2 hour time span) asks if I'm there alone or who my emergency contact is, I tell her I'm not alone, that Roger is my emergency contact...she asks what his number is and for the first time ever I remember it! I've always had to rely on my cell phone telling me people's numbers.  We chit chat...I am asked the same questions for the 10th time, tells me about Dr. Watson who will be my surgeon, and Dr. Moody will be the anesthesiologist.  Puts my hair up in a shower cap thing, sees that I already have an IV hook up in my arm, discuss what I've already taken.  Then another nurse over hears conversation about my son and says there's no way I'm old enough to have a 4 year old....she was just about to ask what high school I went to, legitimately thought I was only 14.  I'll love looking a decade younger in like...a decade, I look forward to looking 25 when I'm 35!  Then Dr. Watson comes along, and asks me all the questions everyone else has, pokes around on my tummy...is concerned that it isn't hurting much when he presses on my appendix, things it may have already burst.  But he doesn't stop talking long enough for me to explain that I'm currently high as a kite on Morphine and can probably smash my hand with a hammer and not feel a thing.  He explains how laparoscopic appendectomy works, that he'll put 3 holes in me, one in my belly button, one below the bikini line, and one between those two, so ultimately I'll only have one scar that will be barely noticeable in a swimsuit...I mention that scars aren't a big deal since I've got a plethora of stretch marks aka badges of honor spread across my abdomen already.


More waiting...getting tired.  The nurse asks if I'm OK, says everything will be fine, no reason to be scared, mentions that she assumes I'm scared based on my quietness.  I reassure her that I'm not scared at all, that I'm actually very eager to go in and have the source of my pain removed.  She had also heard my theory earlier about the headache from the antibiotic being a great distraction from the other pain.  She laughed and said I definitely have a "glass half full" perspective.  I told her having it half empty is pretty counter productive to life.

I overhear the nurses trying to get another woman to wake up from her surgery...complaining that they're struggling to wake her up.  So I start to coach myself, saying I will wake up.  When I hear the nurse say my name, I will wake up, I will do everything in my power to wake up.



Then Dr Moody came, my new best friend who delivers feel good stuff: anesthetic. Then I'm wheeled off into the operating room.  Three young people, two men and a woman, are spouting banter at one another, while also explaining to me what's going on.  They move me onto a very thin operating table.  Straps my arm down to a metal thing with cushion and makes sure the IV is all set up properly, then straps my other arm down to another.  Very vulnerable way of laying there.  Followed by strapping down my legs.  One of the guys makes a joke about how they do that because if I fall off there's too much paperwork involved.  I ask the guy to my right if he's ever had surgery, he says several times, talks about a hernia that he had to have surgery for and how the other guy (to my left) had pulled pranks on him during the surgery and he advised that the moral of the story is to not have surgery where you work, which the woman pipes in saying "Unless where you work is the best place in town, which is the case here," I wonder if she's saying that as a way to reassure me that I'm in good hands, despite the pranksters, or if she's just throwing in her own commentary.


Then, nothing, I don't even remember having to count back from 10 or anything like you see on TV.  Followed by waking up in the PACU unit, forcing my eyes open and trying to wake up completely as I hear the nurses still talking to that same lady that they couldn't wake up before.  I ask what time it is, they tell me 10:30.  I ask if they were able to get a hold of Roger, they were.  Then I got taken back upstairs to my room.  The nurse was very surprised by how awake I was when I got back up.  I begged for water.  All I wanted for hours before the surgery was water and now I could finally have it.  She offered Jello and crackers too; absolutely yes.  I took a bite out of the cracker and my mouth became so incredibly dry I couldn't even swallow, most bizarre feeling ever.  Threw the crackers down like they were demonic and tried the jello, jello didn't help.  Tried to chug water...finally relief.
 

Exhausted but happy.

Spent the rest of the night in and out of consciousness.  Scrolling through Facebook, Pinterest, watching this crazy movie where in the end this guy gets ripped in half by some psychopath driving a semi...insane movie, but it grabbed my attention enough that I couldn't sleep until I saw the ending.  Then my whole body just kept feeling itchy, I couldn't sleep, it itched too much.  Nurse came in, told her.  She left, did nothing.  Later another nurse came in, left and brought back benedryl, she should get a raise...if I could remember who she was.  Then finally mustered up the courage to try to go pee, since that is a requirement just to leave the hospital, I wanted to do that sooner than later.  Weird experience having a nurse stand there.  Fell asleep sometime around 5am, still woke up a couple of times.

Then I woke up to two people in scrubs hovering over me around 7am.  CREEPY.  Was delivered breakfast, it was all gross.  But I was thrilled to eat something.  Asked the nurse when I can go home, he said he'd check what the requirements for my discharge were and get on it.  While going through all the paperwork he is explaining to a trainee all the steps and says that they're going to go get the script for pain meds I'll need.  Then when he gets back he asks when the last time I had oral pain meds, told him I hadn't yet.  Then I realized that I hadn't received any pain meds since the morphine I was hooked up to long ago, which explained the level of pain I was experiencing.  He promptly remedied the situation so that I would have something before leaving.  Thank heavens.  Then on our way we went.

The End.

Best List

I came across this today and thought I'd share it. This is the best list I've found that explains what qualities a parent should possess to be the best parent they can be. It's definitely the magic behind my methods.

There are 10 competencies that predict good parenting outcomes, asserts researcher Robert Epstein in Scientific American Mind (November 2010). These 10, listed in order from most to least important, predict a strong parent-child bond and children's happiness, health, and success:

1. Love and affection.
"You support and accept the child, are physically affectionate, and spend quality one-on-one time together."

I couldn't agree more, whenever asked what is the most important thing a parent can do...I always say "Love 'em, hug 'em, kiss 'em, every single day." And truly being there for your child. You can spend an entire day with your child and not be truly there, technology steals away from our children often, text messaging is such an easy method of communication and we feel like it doesn't interrupt our day, but it breaks the attention away from your child even more. At least if they hear you on the phone they get to learn from a form of social interaction.

2. Stress management.
"You take steps to reduce stress for yourself and your child, practice relaxation techniques, and promote positive interpretations of events."

You cannot raise a child to have healthy stress management unless you yourself have the skill. Learning how to give yourself a time out at the same time as being there for your child is a juggle. I've found that if I sit down and start to play with my son's toys, with his legos or train tracks, not necessarily with him, it helps me calm down. At work I often get the playdough out to calm myself with the kids. It's those little tricks that work for me.

3. Relationship skills.
"You maintain a healthy relationship with your spouse, significant other, or co-parent and model effective relationship skills with others."

When Roger and I separated this was a HUGE deal. Making sure that we could maintain a model of behavior that our son could still learn from. I've seen far too many divorced parents that can't even stomach being in the same room as one another for the sake of their child, and I don't think they fully realize the message they send when they act that way.

4. Autonomy and independence.
"You treat your child with respect and encourage him or her to become self-sufficient and self-reliant."

Respect your child and your child will respect you. There's a child on Bear's t-ball team and he mouths off to his mom, he cries during every practice and game, and I know the core reason is the lack of respect his mom has for him. Saying "Shit dude, hurry up, stop walking so slow" (out of the mouth of previously mentioned mother) to your 3 year old then wondering why your child whines or back talks is greatly due to lack of competency of the parent. My child whines the most when I forget to take a step back and remember to have realistic expectations of him.

5. Education and learning.
"You promote and model learning and provide educational opportunities for your child."

As I continue working on my education I know that my child will understand the importance of college. Maybe it's because I saw my mother and step father going through school when I was young that it was just assumed I'd go to college after high school. I never felt like college was an option, it was an expectation. I value education greatly, which is why I make sure to have my child in the best school I can possibly have him in, and his school isn't the best simply because it's amongst the top 10 in the nation, it's the best because it suits his learning style.

6. Life skills.
"You provide for your child, have a steady income, and plan for the future."

I think that even when there's financial struggle, the child still learns from that. It is certainly ideal to have a steady income, but in this economy that isn't exactly an option for everyone, and that doesn't mean every child is doomed. Just means the parent has to work harder to portray to the child that despite the hardships, everything turns out alright. Teaching them to enjoy the simpler things in life.

7. Behavior management.
"You make extensive use of positive reinforcement and punish only when other methods of managing behavior have failed."

Best way of putting it, ever. Extensive use of positive reinforcement is very hard to do, but the results are way more worth it. The times that I have slipped up on this method and have forgotten to focus on what my son can learn from a misbehavior and skip to a punishment, it's ultimately me who gets punished, because it just happens again. Punishments do not teach and should be used as a last resort. While at the house of my friend, Bear got too excited about a pen he got out of a cereal box and drew on the nearest wall to him. I kept my cool and was firmly angry with him, had him wash the wall himself, tried to get him to understand how it made my friend feel when he drew on their wall, but it just wasn't clicking in his head. Probably due to lack of sleep. He still had a smile on his face and I could tell he didn't feel remorse for what he had done, so that was when I went into punishment mode. He no longer got to have the pen, I told him he could not have it until the next morning with paper to draw on. Then he realized he had done wrong, then he cried and understood that it wasn't OK to draw on the wall. I never once raised my voice or belittled him. When he said sorry he received the usual response I give him "You do not get to say sorry for things you do on purpose." It's a rule in our house that we do not say sorry for things we intentionally do and we don't say sorry for things other people do. Example: a friend at school hurt Bear, I can't tell him "I'm sorry that happened," because it's not my fault and really I shouldn't feel sorry, instead I can affirm his feelings by saying "That wasn't nice of them to hit you, it's never ok to hurt your friends. If he hits a friend at school he shouldn't say sorry because saying sorry doesn't excuse an intentional behavior, too many children resort to saying "sorry" the second they do something wrong as if that fixes it. I also tell him "Sorry means you're not going to do it again," because saying sorry should lead to correction of ones behavior.

8. Health.
"You model a healthy lifestyle and good habits, such as regular exercise and proper nutrition."

I admit, this is my weak point. I kind of suck at this. I'm happy to see it so low on the list, haha. I do eat healthier now that I have my son, since I want him to be healthy. I'm not a fan of exercise, I get plenty at work, so it's something I need to work on exposing Bear to at home.

9. Religion.
"You support spiritual or religious development and participate in spiritual or religious activities."

Roger and I both agreed before we got married that we would raise our children through example of good morals. We both agree that religion can be instilled later, instead of shoved down his throat. We both believe that there is a higher power than ourselves, and have agreed that the day that Bear asks "Is there a God?" we can express to him that we think there is, but further the conversation to ask him if he thinks there is. We feel that he will be more spiritually balanced if he seeks his own path instead of one that we choose for him. I know many other families function very differently from ours, and I think that's beautiful. I hope that I can teach my child to be as open minded and respectful towards other religions as I feel I am. Out of respect to my family I had Colbert blessed (a LDS ritual) as an infant. Out of respect to one of my close friends, Bear and I attended her son's Bar Mitzvah. Things like that will create the values I want him to have.

10. Safety.
"You take precautions to protect your child and maintain awareness of the child's activities and friends."

I am surprised with how low on the list safety is, but I'm thrilled. I agree that everything listed prior to is of higher priority, and I think if all of the previous things listed are done then safety kind of goes hand in hand with them all. I haven't devised yet the plan for when my son becomes an adolescent and his activities have to be more closely monitored, but his safety will be what drives my plan, instead of sheltering him, being overbearing, or simply trying to suffice my own curiosities about his life. I think that having the element of mutual respect will make this fall in to place more easily.

Fool Joke (The Response from my friend Fallon 2005)

Here was Fallon's response:

Amanda,

      Whatever path you choose in life, I will always support you. I have to say though...the army? why not the navy? they have better traveling options! But anyway, I love you very much and am proud of whatever you choose to do. I have a request though, everywhere you go, you must send me a postcard, and then if it is a really cool place, i am coming to visit you there.

      I always will love you, but before the time comes that your running off to get in shape and wondering if you chose the right course, let me treat you to dinner!! I would love to honor that person who would fight for our country. If it weren't for people like you, then our country would fall. You will always have a place in my heart. You and your army boots. I love you.

Fallon