New blog

I've started a new blog to chronicle our life as a threesome.  This blog was started when I was in a very different place in life and it just doesn't fit me anymore.  I hope you'll join me at my new blog...

One of the Lucky Ones

I think I need to change the name of my blog

Yesterday was my 28th birthday and I had the most wonderful day with my boys.  I did have to go to work but I got to go out to dinner, spend some extra quality time with Jon and Michael together and individually and had an especially yummy (but not very pretty, lol) cake.  I can't believe how different things are in just a year.  Last year I was just starting to feel Michael's kicks and now he is crawling all over the place.  Last year I was sitting on the couch alone and this year I was curled up next to my husband.  

And all I can think is how lucky I am to have this amazing life to share with a husband I adore and a son who makes every moment worth living.  When I started this blog I chose the title "Sometimes I feel lucky..." because I was in the midst of a really difficult time in my life and even though I had so much to be thankful for sometimes I just couldn't see it.  Now I look at my life and feel so blessed, so loved and so lucky.

I should change the title of this blog to "One Lucky Bitch" :-)

Memorial Day

Tonight I sat in bed giving Michael a bottle, my husband was sitting next to me and I was crying.  I was crying because I was so completely and entirely happy.  Sometimes it just blows me away that I get to be a part of something so completely perfect and complete.  

And then I cried because I was able to have this moment.  This time last year I was saying goodbye to my husband and I know that somewhere, some other military family is doing the same.  There are military families trying to keep things going and take care of each other while a loved one is deployed.  And there are military families who are struggling to deal with the injury or death of their loved one.  Those families won't get to have that moment I had tonight, some of them will never get to have those nights again.  

So tonight, as you enjoy your BBQs and lament the fact that you have to go to work tomorrow, please take a second to remember members of the military and their families.  

I'm pissed, God.

This is a post that has been brewing for awhile so bear with me.  It's more than likely not going to make much sense.

It all started because I've been thinking recently about a dear internet friend of mine who I met on a pregnancy loss message board.  In the past two + years she's had three losses and is now struggling to get pregnant period which in my mind is ridiculously, painfully unfair.  I don't get it. I don't understand how such an incredibly funny, loving and all around wonderful person has to go through such heartache.  

And then today I found out that another internet friend lost her son at 24.5 weeks gestation. She's also had multiple losses and a lot of personal turmoil recently and again I'm left wondering how the hell this works out.  How this person who has been so loving and so supportive to so many others going through a loss, pregnancy after a loss and the struggle of new mommyhood has this happen is beyond me.

And all this brings me back to faith.  Believe it or not, I'm a fairly religious person.  That's not to say that I am a saint or even that good of a person but I do believe in God and am a practicing Catholic.  I strongly believe in the idea of free will, that we choose the paths we take in life and God is there, loving and supporting us as we go.  He's there to celebrate with us when we have great joy and success, there to comfort us when we are struggling and patiently waits for us to come back when we head down the wrong path.  

But here is the thing, and why this post is titled "I'm pissed, God."  Because I am.  What is happening to these women, and others, isn't free will.  They didn't choose a path that allowed this to happen to them.  And while a part of my belief in free will is that sometimes bad, horrible things happen to good people and there is no reason for that.  God didn't make it happen and because of free will he doesn't stop it from happening; we aren't his puppets after all.  BUT, come on God,  sometimes you need to step up.  To intervene.  I see cases where you do all the time (if you've read Stellan's story it's obvious that God intervened in a big way) so why, why, why didn't you intervene here?

Is it some sort of test of faith?  For them?  For me?  Are you trying to make examples out of them?  Are you busy with other things?  Whatever it is, it's crap.  You heard me God.  This is a big fat bunch of crap.  And right now, I think you suck a little bit.  Or a lot.  

Just because I'm mad doesn't mean I am going to stop believing or stop having faith because I know the only thing that will help me to find peace, shit even some sort of acceptance would be a vast improvement at this point, is God.  But I am using my free will to be mad.  Hotel room wrecking mad in fact but the knowledge of my itty bitty bank account keeps me from doing that.  

And just for you, God, in case you need a reminder.  Maybe you should even right this down so you don't forget...

intervene - a: to come in or between by way of hindrance or modification <intervene to stop a fight> b: to interfere with the outcome or course especially of a condition or process (as to prevent harm or improve functioning)

Happy Mother's Day

On this day that is meant to celebrate motherhood, I want to take a moment to send my thoughts and prayers to those Mother's that people may not recognize as mothers.  Regardless of when these women lost their babies or if they are still struggling to get that first positive test, the love and strength they show each and every day inspires me to be a better Mom.  My prayers are with you so that next Mother's Day everyone else will see you as the amazing mothers I already know you are.

Told ya so

 See, I'm back.  For reals.

So where was I...Ah yes, the three month mark when I started to realize that I didn't just instinctively care for this little being but that I actually enjoyed his company.  Seriously, when he started smiling and cooing it was such a game changer.  It was sort of like putting $5 of gas in a car with the gas light on - just enough to keep me going until the next gas station.

So all of this started happening at right about three months which of course was right when I needed to start working again.  So the irony of it was that I spent a big chunk of my maternity leave looking forward to going back to the office (I was actually on email the day Michael was born *hangs head in shame*) but when the day finally came it was awful.  I was THAT Mom, sitting in the parking lot crying my eyes out and begging God to somehow drop a bag full of money in my lap so that I didn't have to work.

But as we all know, a) God has more important things to worry about than my temper tantrum and request for bags of money and b) he knows much better than I do so the money never appeared and back to work 40+ hours a week I went.  Do I love my job?  No.  But I do love my son, and deep down I know that being away from him for 8 hours a day makes me a better parent because I have more reserves to deal with his crankiness, getting into everything etc than I would if I had to deal with it all day everyday.  I don't know how SAHMs do it day in and day out.  

Of course, going back to work means getting back on the road so I've spent the past 10 days in Colorado Springs, CO.  And I survived.  Barely.  Michael has been home with his  Dad and I am one lucky, lucky girl to have a man like Michael's Dad in my life.  Seriously.  This guy was a full time single parent for 10 days after about 4 days of baby boot camp and he managed to survive a round trip drive from VA to NJ with a stop in Philly, a fever that wouldn't go away, an ER trip, a doctor's office visit, a heat wave and still managed to do laundry and run the vacuum at least once that I know of.  Do I need to say anymore for you to understand why I love this guy so much?

And I guess that you all (ok, ok both of you) have figured out that DH has returned from Iraq and is home with his family.  I promise next time I'll blog all about that, which will just give me the chance to gush all the more about how incredibly, ridiculously, disgustingly, over the top in love I am with this guy and how I am beyond lucky that he is my baby daddy.  But for now, I need to go and pack my suitcase so that in 16 hours I can be landing back in VA and get those boys of mine back in my arms.

I mean it this time

So about a month ago I said that I was back.  And then I went away.  But I'm back again and this time I mean it.  At least I intend to mean it.

Anyway, I guess I should get you all caught (ok more like both of you) caught up on me.  My last posts were in September...so since then, I had a baby.  Which is really great considering I was still pregnant and more than a little scared back then.  The rest of my pregnancy was uneventful.  I had a shower thanks to some wonderful friends in VA, got things ready and ended up going in for an induction on November 17, 2008.  A relatively short 13 hours later, I was staring into the eyes of my goo covered, pissed off son.  

I suppose this would be a good place to write down every detail of Michael's birth so I won't ever forget it but in all honesty I'm just not that type of blogger/person.  I had my son, some details remain (painfully) fresh and others are starting to fade.  In a way I think that is the natural order of things - I don't want to spend my time trying to record every moment with Michael so I won't forget it.  I want to spend my time enjoying those moments with him.

I will say that mother-hood has been life altering but not in the Lifetime movie sort of way I imagined.  I admit that when he was screaming his goo covered little head off in my face I wasn't overwhelmed with love or crying with joy.  I was just stunned.  It took a few hours and some kangaroo care to finally look at him and say to myself "oh, thats right.  I had a baby, this is him.  He's nice enough, guess I'll keep him."  I didn't love him with an all consuming passion the moment he was born - there was a very instinctual need to care for him and I did love him but it wasn't this amazing life altering moment like so many new Mom's describe.  

And let me just interject here and say that I love Michael.  Love, love, love him but it was a process and I don't think enough people say that.  People would ask and I would tell them that I loved him more than anything, and I did and I would have done anything for him.  But it wasn't this blissful lovefest that so many people seem to expect it to be.  There was lots of screaming (mostly him) and crying (probably a tie) those first few weeks.  And lots of doubt and thoughts of what the hell was I thinking.  And yes, I said I.  My poor deployed husband was so far out of my thoughts at that point in time that I all but forgot about him at times until he called.  

But things slowly started to get better.  It takes a while but eventually Michael went from being a soul sucking leach (ok, maybe that is a bit much) to a person.  A person who I loved and started to like being around.  For me it was at about 3 months when I realized that I liked being around Michael more than anyone else and that those feelings were only growing.

So in order to prevent this from becoming the blog post of all blog posts and to make sure that I have more to blog about tomorrow I am going to end here.

Seriously, I'm back this time.  Cross my heart.

I'm back.

Yeah, so. Ummmm...hi.

The problem with blogging is that when you go a way for a long time its hard to come back and then when you do its hard to figure out what to say. So then you put it off, which just makes it harder and so and so on.

So where to start. I guess saying that Michael has arrived and is four months old today is a good place. He is my greatest joy and blessing. There aren't words for what I feel, how to explain my emotions but I am going to work on that because I want to put it into words.

But its late, and I need to get to bed. I'll be back though. Honestly.

September 21, 2008

So I decided that now would be a good time to finish my "How I Met Your Father" post so that I don't have to think about other things.

So my BF and I got in her car and began to drive back to PA. The ride started out by laughing at TSM and how ridiculous he was and then I started to get a little sappy about him, how he seemed like a really great guy and that he really seemed interested in getting to know me. I of course then had to change the subject because I felt this strange warm fuzzy feeling about this guy starting to grow.

TSM was not easily deterred. He called his friend, who called BF who gave him my email to give to TSM. Apparently he then pulled together a bunch of his Marine buddies and took about 3 days to write a four line email that would show he was interested but not make him look needy. I have to admit I was impressed, so he finally got my number and we started talking pretty much everyday. A few weeks later he came up to see me and took me on a date - a real live actual date that ended with a kiss and him leaving me at the door because he "wanted to do things right this time."

So what is a damaged, commitment phobic girl to do when Mr Wonderful walks into her life? Why of course I found another guy who as one of my friends put it was a "fixer-upper." Seriously, if you ever want to see what he looks like look up loser in Websters dictionary and there is actually a picture of him. And of course I decide that this guy was a much better match for me than TSM because I never wanted to be involved with someone in the military (oh the irony of this statement now). Of course another friend was probably slightly more on the mark when she hypothesised that I avoided any relationships that had a future because I was afraid of getting hurt again.

So as hard as I tried, TSM would not give up on me. So when it became clear that just not talking to him anymore wasn't going to make him go away, I realized that I actually had to call and break up with this guy. This lead to another classic Erin-ism: The Plant Plan. I explained to him that while I enjoyed spending time with him, we were getting a little too relationshippy for me and that I simply couldn't be in a relationship with someone until I was able to keep a plant alive for six months. We get off the phone and I pat myself on the back for doing the right thing.

The next day I got a plant. Not just any plant mind you, a large green and white house plant with a note that said "I'll wait as long as it takes" Me being me, immediately calls BF and mocks the plant, throws away the note and sticks the plant on a window seat in my room, behind the door. This was in November and I can say that I completely forgot about said plant almost instantly.

The months go on, loser-guy got more loserish and further convinced me that normal healthy relationships only existed in moves and on tv. To his credit, TSM gave me some space for a few weeks and then we started chatting online here and there. I always enjoyed talking to him but I kept reminding myself that I didn't want to be involved with someone in the military. I got a job down in DC, packed my things and moved South. The relationship with loser was well on its way to ending so I was just waiting that out before moving on to conquer a whole new city.

Then I heard that TSM was going to Iraq. This was early 2003, just as the war was starting. He was the first person that I really knew who was going to be in a real war and the feelings I had were confusing. I was feeling so much at one time, that I didn't quite know how to process it all. We talked a little bit, enough for me to get his address because I told him that I would write and send care packages but I still I felt like there was so much more that needed to be said.

A few days later my Mom called and asked if I wanted the plant that was on my window seat. My part of the conversations went something like this: Plant? What plant? Oh that plant. Isn't it dead? No? Seriously. Are you sure? Like its still alive? Wow. I gotta go.

I packed a bag, got in my car and started driving from VA to Northern NJ in the middle of a snow storm. I called BF and got directions to TSMs fraternity house (I knew he was there that weekend for a going away party) and then I called loser-guy and ended it. Many, many hours later I found myself standing at the door of the fraternity, in the middle of a storm with no idea what to do next. I was literally about to walk away when someone opened the door to come out for a cigarette and found me there. He asked if he could help me, I said that I was there for TSMs going away party and with that I was invited in with a loud yell of "TSM, some girl is here for you!"

I don't know who was more stunned when he finally came down the stairs. He put his arms around me, kissed me and I knew at that moment I was pretty much done. He told me he understood how I felt and that he couldn't offer me anything since he was about to leave for a then undetermined period of time but that he wanted to spend as much of the time as he had left in the US with me. It took me less than a week to come out and tell him that I love him; he one upped me by telling me he had loved me since the day I came up with the Plant Plan.

Three and a half years of dating, three dead fish, five apartments in VA, three in NJ, two dogs, two deployments, almost two years of marriage, a miscarriage, a college graduation and baby boy due in November later the slutty emotionally damaged girl and the Marine that pukes off the side of a boat are still together. We're apart again for another deployment (this is number three if you are counting) but with all the things there are to be afraid of, we're nowhere near as afraid of it as we should be because we are together and we figure we'll get through it somehow.

And that plant? It's still growing

September 20, 2008

One of my internet friends (hey Newtie!) posted the story of how she and her husband met earlier this week and I loved it. So today I am going to post the story of how J and I met so it will be preserved for all of history, and maybe someday when he is about 45 I will let Michael read this.

It was mid-September 2002. I was still recovering from breaking up with the guy I had been dating since I was not-quite 15, though dating is a lose term for the college years...we were bascially sleeping together while he dated other people. Sometimes I knew, sometimes I didn't but the self-esteem issues that go along with that debacle are worthy of their own post. Anyway. I was dealing with said breakup in a way that only seems constructive when you are 20/21 years old and recently had returned from a semester abroad. I drank (alot) and had sex (even more). It wasn't pretty.

So I had just returned from six months of this chaos, was interning on a political campaign and finishing up my last semester of school when one of my best friends (we shall now call her BF because I am too lazy to type) asked me to go to a party with her. And not just any party, a party on her friend's friend's dad's sailboat. God love you if you could follow that. I had tons of stuff to do for school, I was still competitivly dancing at the time and had a million reasons not to go but at the last minute I decided that I deserved a break and that I was going to go with BF. So we packed up our bags, hopped in the car and away we went.

Now as we are driving I start to ask more details and I learn that the girl to guy ratio is significantly in my favor. I then bust out a quote that has gone down in history among all my college friends.

If I don't get laid tonight, I'm gonna be pissed.

Thats right. Classiest 21 year old ever. I was that girl that kept all the Mom's awake at night when they thought of their dear, sweet innocent little boys at college.

So we arrive. We meet up some other people who are going to be on this boat - two guys, neither one particularly interesting to me. We get on a smaller boat to take us out to the big boat and now I am finally getting a full look of all of my options. And there he is, a tall skinny Marine (who shall now be known as TSM) cooking burgers and drinking beer but obviously engrossed in a conversation with a girl. Damnit. No wait, they are talking about their Mom. Score, it's his sister. I turn to BF and say "Mine." She rolls her and eyes and laughs, apparently having known this was going to be the guy before we even got to the party.

So the night goes on. I quickly learn that TSM is painfully shy and awkward around girls which of course makes me drool like a lion looking at a gazelle with a broken leg. We sail, we chat, we get to the place we need to be for the night and drop anchor. We all start drinking including TSM, who after several beers decides that he is going to make a martini.

Now this martini deserves its own paragraph and here's why. TSM has never had a martini, never made a martini, or really been even remotely involved with a martini. We are on a boat so there are no martini glasses so he gets out a 16oz plastic tumbler and proceeds to make a 50/50 mixture of gin and vermoth. Now I am no expert but even I can tell this is a bad idea. He continues to add gin, vermouth and olive juice trying to make it taste better until the tumbler is full. TSM feels he has now reached the point of no return because to not drink it in front of me would be the ultimate shame to his masculinity so he ends up drinking all 16oz of this concoction. You'll learn why this is important later.

So the evening progresses. TSM and I are talking, I suggest we leave everyone below and go up on deck so we can talk where it is quieter. We are followed by one of his friends (let's refer to him as BM, short for best man because he was the best man at our wedding, for very good reason). He quickly realizes his mistake, doesn't want to be obvious to us or everyone down below so he suggests that TSM take me to the front of the boat since I hadn't been up there yet - mind you there is ABSOLUTELY nothing to see. We jump at the chance, TSM tries to be deep and talk about how much he loves the ocean while I calculate how much longer I have before this guy passes out and decide to make my move. So I kiss him.

After kissing for a few minutes TSM decides that it is time for everyone to go to bed and that he and I should sleep next to each other. Of course, we are sleeping next to each other in the same berth as three other people, including BM who is perched on this ledge directly next to us. Lights go out, things progress (there is an absolutely hysterical story about a velcro fly that I'll spare you the details of) and of course I being who I was at that point in my life end up having sex with TSM. Poor BMs little ledge of a bed collapses during our escapades so he ends up sleeping on the deck of the boat because he just wants to give us some privacy and my BF and her friend who originally invited us on the boat were desperately trying to sleep. Trashtastic.

We fall asleep but I wake up a few hours later and realize that TSM is gone. Sweet I initially think, I don't have to deal with awkward goodbyes but then I see him, sitting on the deck alone and immediately I realize that something about this guy is different because I actually want to go sit with him. After a few minutes I go up to check on him. As I sit down, he pulls me close so we can share the blanket he was wrapped in and I am struck by how nice it is to be close to him. He then busts out one of the most classic relationship conversations ever:

TSM: I really like you.
Me: Yeah...I like you. **Thinking, crap now what**
TSM: I'm gonna throw up now. **Proceeds to vomit off the side of the boat**

So back to bed we go and I wake up again shortly before sunrise. I sneak out of the bed and climb back up on deck to watch the sun come up alone. TSM realizes that I've gone and comes to find me and we sit and watch it together. No talking, just watching. I tell him to go lay down because I know he isn't feeling well and he tells me that he feels better just being with me. Part of me considers jumping in the water and swimming to land but I stay there and enjoy the moment.

Everyone else starts to wake up, and TSM makes stupid, sappy comment after stupid, sappy comment that we still make fun of him of him for today. We finally get back and as I am leaving (assuming that its been just another one night stand) he gets off the boat with me, asks me for my number and to the USMC birthday ball. I tell him no to both, that I had a great time and that if he really wants to talk to get my email from the guy who invited me on the boat. A final kiss and I was gone, thinking I'd never hear from this guy again.

How we got from here to marriage and a baby on the way is a whole 'nother story for a whole 'nother day...

September 9, 2008

So yeah...I've been neglecting my blog again. Though its not like I've been out partying and what not; since my last post I have finished packing up one apartment, moved and (mostly) unpacked the new apartment. I even started hanging pictures tonight, which is when I realized that even though my husband's insistance on DIY projects can drive me batshit crazy he is rather handy to have around when it comes to hanging pictures. Oh well, there is only one picture that is both off center and crooked so I feel like I did a pretty good job for someone who is 30 weeks pregnant.

Speaking of my husband, he is currently in Kuwait waiting for transport to his final destination. I hate that he is gone but am relieved that he is at the same time. It's finally begun and now that its begun we can start planning for life after deployment #3. Let the countdown to his homecoming begin.

Another countdown rapidly come to an end is the countdown to my due date. I am a little over 30 weeks right now which I feel makes me officially very pregnant. Here is a picture of my 30 week belly - any thoughts to where the rest of this kid is going to go because I can imagine my stomach getting any larger than it already is!


I wish I wasn't still so scared about losing this baby and that I could just enjoy these final days but I guess having a loss, even an early one, will do that to you. I worry about cord accidents, pre-term labor and lately something happening to him after he is born. At least I am getting to the point where I can occasionally picture bringing him home.

And home is just about ready for him. Other than hanging a few more pictures and getting some boxes into the storage unit, I am settled. In the picture below you'll see two dressers - those are going to become a changing table - and an empty corner that will soon be occupied by a crib. A crib that this child of mine is going to sleep in. At least in theory since it seems that he likes to sleep all day and party all night. But he is going to be in there sleeping at least occasionally and that is amazing.


I'll be sure to post more pictures of the new place as soon as I finish decorating. It's certainly nothing spectacular but its home and so far I am liking it here. Now that I am getting settled I promise to do a better job of posting more regularly. Or at the very least I will try - who knows whats next in this crazy life I am living.

August 20, 2008

I remember at the beginning of the year I thought that I would post everyday. Clearly that hasn't happened. I don't think I had any idea of where this year was going to take me as I sat on the floor of my husband's bathroom in NJ trying not to vomit from the combination of too much wine and too much champagne on New Year's Eve.

Things are moving along on all fronts. The deployment is getting closer to actually starting for real (as in the whole leaving the country part of it), Mack is doing great and my new lease starts in 5 days and the movers come in 10 days. I've been ridiculously overwhelmed lately - I don't know if its because I'll be out of the condo I've been living in for 2 years in less than 2 weeks or because I am only 80-some odd days from having a baby. I still remember thinking it was such a big deal to be 199 days from my EDD!

And while I am excited to move, I have a strange sense of sadness leaving my current place. This was where I lived while I finished planning my wedding, we were newlyweds sitting at the table writing thank you notes and eating left over wedding cake. I was also here during times when I really questioned our decision to get married when we did and where I came home to with an empty heart after my miscarriage. I'm not the same person that moved in here two years ago, and that is a good thing.

But as I've said before I love new beginnings. I've got big plans for my new place including the dresser I am buying this weekend and the new slipcover I bought for the couch. This will be the place where I bring my son home to and where we will finally be a family a few months after that. A place for fresh starts...and lots of boxes for the next couple of weeks.

August 10, 2008

26 weeks today - wow, this time next week I'll be starting my third trimester. Crazy how quickly and how slowly time has gone.

Some pictures for your viewing pleasure - the one on the left is me all dressed up for a wedding I went to on Saturday and the one on the right is me all dressed up and showing the belly.
















Please excuse all the boxes and mess. I'm moving soon and so packing has begun. Just an FYI for those who are planning/considering a move while pregnant, it is entirely doable but it also totally sucks. Just sayin.

August 9, 2008

The final countdown begins - I'm less than 100 days from my due date. And its a strange mix of fear and excitement that I am feeling as I realize that this baby is coming.

I keep thinking of something they said over and over last night during one of those human interest athlete montages "Not the triumph, but the struggle." It's probably more than a little cheesy but I find myself relating to it in a way that I never would have before.

So much of the love I have for my husband and for my son come from the struggles we have gone through. Whether its been surviving multiple deployments and 5 years of a long distance relationship (including the first 18months of our relationship) or my miscarriage and the fear of pregnancy after a loss, those struggles are what have gotten me to where I am. It may not be the Normal Rockwell painting I imagined, but I realize that I wouldn't trade in my current situation for that "perfect" scenario. Because I wouldn't have my boys with out the struggles and being with them is the greatest triumph of all.

July 31, 2008

I'm in a hormonally induced funk lately; the strangest things seem to get me down and I don't quite know how to get back up just yet.

I'm sure it doesn't help that I just got home from my trip out to CA to see my husband. It was a wonderful six days, but in the end it was only six days. I cried at the airport. I never cry in public. It's a common joke between my husband and his friends that I don't love him because I'm not cuddly, I don't participate in PDAs and I've never cried when he deployed (at least not in front of him). But this time, I cried. I cried because I am going to miss him. I cried because I am scared of doing this without him, even for just a short time. I cried because of all of the things he is going to miss out on. And I cried because deep down, even though I know that his assignment is going to be the least dangerous he's ever had, I am numbingly, paralyzingly afraid that he isn't going to come home.

Normally I try to get right back up and move forward. The first few weeks of a deployment usually mean that I am going to work early and staying late, spending extra time at the gym and tackling projects at home right and left. This time I just feel weighted down, like I just can't move forward and so instead I sit. I sit and listen to songs that I know will make me cry because I need the "permission" those songs give me to just let go and be sad.

I don't know what is better emotionally, moving forward or sitting, but I know that I have to get up sooner rather than later because I've got a lot to do in the next 8 months.

July 17, 2008

Do I deserve this?

Today is just one of those days where I find myself questioning whether or not I deserve to be pregnant. I read a post on one of the message boards I lurk on about people feeling sad because so many people they know got pregnant before them and moved on to a pregnancy oriented board. Many of these girls have been trying 6+ months, and my heart breaks for them that this isn't easier for them - I almost wish that if you have to have IF, or if you have to have a m/c that you should automatically have a free pass so that no one has to deal with both of these issues. Unfortunately, last time I checked, I don't get to make the rules.

And I feel guilty. Because I am pregnant and things are going well. Because it only took me two tries. Because I moved on and left these girls behind. And I said that I wasn't going to leave them behind but I did because I feel like it hurts them more to see me and hear about my pregnancy then it would for me to just fade away...

But if I wasn't pregnant now, I probably wouldn't even have the chance to get pregnant again until next spring. And I tried unsuccessfully for a few months, before sitting and waiting for several more months. And while I waited, I had to sit and watch girls try and fail or try and be successful. Either way, I was insanely jealous of those who were trying because at least they were doing something. At least they had hope. And when they do get pregnant, their husbands will be there. He'll be there to hear the heartbeat, for the big u/s. Their baby will get to meet their Daddy right away, not at 6+ months old. And they won't have to live with the "What if" that I'll be living with everyday until my husband comes home.

And so there is the rub in these situations. So often it seems unfair that someone has everything you so desperately want but how do you know that you don't have the thing they want just as much? I've learned recently that just because someone seems to have it all on the outside doesn't mean they feel that way on the inside.

**Authors Note - This isn't directed at anyone, and I hope that no one is hurt or offended by this post. These were just things that I needed to say and I hope that people can understand that.**

July 15, 2008

Today I've seen a lot of traffic on message boards about the issue of formula vs. breast feeding and I am honestly a bit shocked to see how much of an issue this is for people. All of this got me thinking about why I am choosing to formula feed and I decided to put those reasons out here in the open. In part for myself because its my blog and I'll post whatever I want :-) and in part so that others who are trying to make the decision can see the reasons why I chose to formula feed.

1. I am choosing to formula feed because I want other people to be able to share the responsibility of feeding my child. I am going to be on my own with this baby and so I am going to take any and all help that I can get from family and friends and if I have the opportunity to take a shower, do laundry or otherwise care for myself, the baby or our home while someone else feeds him I am going to take it.
2. I am choosing to formula feed because I strongly feel that the bonding experience between a mother and child comes from the act of being cuddled and cared for, not from the child nursing from the breast. I want my son to bond and feel loved and cared for by his entire family, not just me and I want my family and my husbands family to have the opportunity to bond with him as well.
3. I am choosing to formula feed because my work situation is not conducive to pumping. I have my own office but there is a floor to ceiling window next to my door. Taping pieces of paper over the window every time I pump is not going to cut it for me, especially since the culture here is more of a knock as you are opening a door rather than waiting to be told to come in.
4. I am choosing to formula feed because I am going to be going back to work part time at 3 weeks and full time at six weeks. Am I happy about this? Of course not, but when my husband is deployed we hope for the best and plan for the worst and I want to have leave set aside that if God forbid something were to happen to him, I would be able to go to be with him. I also have to be realistic in that if our son gets sick, I am the only one who can take off from work to be with him. Yes, I could breast feed him for three weeks, but after reading how delicate newborns digestive tracks are why would I willingly make him switch between breast milk and formula at 3 weeks old?
5. I believe that making the decision to breast feed is truly making a decision to live a particular lifestyle. I don't mean this in a negative way, but when breast feeding you do need to commit 100% to doing it. Because of all of the reasons listed above, I know that I would not be able to give that 100% commitment to breast feeding and that the result would be additional stress on me and my son. Which let's be honest, I don't really need at this point in my life and would only make me less able to be a good parent.

I could probably come up with a number of additional reasons why I am choosing not to breastfeed, but right now those are the major ones. There are obviously a lot of reasons to breast feed instead of formula feed, but for me I feel that the right decision is going to be to formula feed. And at the end of the day, I think that making the decision that will allow you to best care for yourself and your child is what makes you a good parent.

July 14, 2008

As promised, today I am including pictures!

First of all - here is Baby Michael. I'm hoping he doesn't look so much like Skeletor when he finally gets here but this is one of the better ones we got of him so far. He's already a bit of a handful and is generally uncooperative so we haven't been able to get any really cute profile shots of him yet. I think this is his was of getting revenge for me not eating as much ice cream as he would like me to.

And as I've said before, I don't think you're ready for this 22w1d belly. But here it is. I can't believe that I am already so big - I feel like I should be barely showing yet there is no mistaking what that belly is! I am starting to feel like short me + monster baby Michael = ridiculously huge pregnant woman. I'll take it though :-)



So there is my show and tell for the day. Had a busy but fun weekend - I went to a friend's wedding on Saturday and brunch with my Aunts on Sunday. Oh how I do love home and hate to leave, but I know that I feel that way because I live in Northern Virginia and not in Philadelphia!

July 11, 2008

So I've been a naughty little blogger and haven't been updating as much as I should but I am going to try to be better!

So what's happened since my last update? Well I am now officially 27 years old. So far 27 is treating me well enough minus the heartburn, backaches...wait, I guess none of that really comes from being 27 does it? I had a very low key birthday at home with the doglings - I cleaned, ran some errands, went to the pool and got some beautiful roses from the hubs. He's definitely not perfect, but some days he comes pretty darn close. All of my other birthday gift either were or were used for maternity clothes.

Speaking of maternity clothes, I don't think you're ready for this belly! I really never thought that I would have a belly that comes out past my boobs at 21-22 weeks but here I am. Bellylicious. I am going to start to post pictures on here to make things a little more interesting and so I can have some sort of journal of this pregnancy. I've been so scared at different points but I think I'm finally getting to the point where I can embrace this more so than I have been.

Speaking of heartburn, backaches and pregnancy in general all seems to be going well on that front. I've had a few issues here and there with a short cervix and the fact that I am carrying a monster but things have been relatively drama free. I found out two weeks ago that I am having a little boy! Just like I've known since I saw the second line on that test so it wasn't a huge surprise to have the u/s tech tell me that :-) So Michael August will be joining us sometime this October/November and is spending his time until then kicking, squirming and just generally being a boy in my tummy.

The hubs is of course delighted to be having a boy, though I am sure much of that delight come from the sheer relief of the baby being a he instead of she! He's been in Cali since May and I can't tell you that it hasn't been rough on me. Pregnancy has been scary and I have become more needy that I've ever been in the past, just as my husband needs to shift his focus on prioritize the mission and his Marines. In my current state, I fully recognize that and support him in that since I'd rather him be focused on what he needs to be doing rather than my latest bought of heartburn or Mack's latest belly-ventures (I've decided they can't really be adventures until he's born so he has belly ventures for now). However, there are times when I just want to be the center of his attention and not have to constantly compete with the 30 some-odd Marines of 3rd Platoon. The thing is, he gets it. And I love my husband for that. So I will be spending a week at the end of the month in Palm Springs with my husband just relaxing. It was his decision to stay out there and have me come see him so it could be just the two of us, without having to deal with his family and friends competing for his attention as well.

Much more than just this has gone on, but these are the highlights that make me smile and since its Friday I am going to stop here. In part because its Friday and in part because I need to leave to drive up to Philly soon and the traffic on the beltway is not going to make me smile. I promise to update more soon and to be a good blogger from here on in!

July 8, 2008

Today was the one year anniversary of my m/c. It sort of snuck up on me - I knew it was coming and then all of a sudden it was there. In my face. Staring me down and bringing back memories of things that I wished I could forget. I've always been glad that I was pregnant, in spite of how it ended, because I learned more about love and happiness in those few days than I had in my entire life leading up to it. But I've always pushed away the memories of that Monday - the urgent care, the bleeding, the cramping. There was just so much blood, maybe it's been blown out of proportion in my head, but it was everywhere and it just kept coming.

There is that saying about every cloud having a silver lining and I've found that to be true on the two big dates associated with my m/c - my EDD and my anniversary. On my EDD, a friend finalized the adoption of her son and was finally able to bring him home from Guatemala. I hope someday that she writes a book about her life, about how she fought to bring her children home with a strength and resolve I don't know that I would have when faced with the obstacles she took down. Today, another friend who has also suffered a miscarriage went to have her first u/s and there was a heartbeat. Pregnancy is a long and scary road, where so much can go wrong, but when you've had an early loss seeing that heartbeat gives you hope that you thought was lost.

Rationally, I realize that my little probably had nothing to do with these things. But in my heart I know that she was up there doing her thing. Reminding me in the smallest and biggest of ways that life goes on and that love can't be erased by time.