Annnd, The Kitchen Sink.

Where have I been lately?

I'm not sure.

How am I doing?

Not sure about that either.

I've just been at home, mostly.

Cleaning.
Organizing.
Sorting.
Purging.

As if my life depended on it.
I think maybe it did, actually....

We had family come visit from TX and then we had more family visit from WV.

It was good to see them--to channel all of my focus into the craziness that goes along with prepping for house-guests.

With everything clean and no more guests on the docket until Christmas, I'm kinda at a loss as to what to do with myself.

I don't want to be sad and depressed, but I am.

Some days, I think that I'm doing great, but then if I stop and take in the quiet, I know that I'm not.

Whenever I pass a pregnant belly, I feel the distinct barrenness of my own. 


Doesn't that sound so tragically melodramatic?
Uggh. It sooooo does.
But there really isn't an apter way to describe it.

This was the most drawn-out miscarriage I've had yet.
Awesome, I know.

I just. kept. bleeding.
My hormone levels would NOT go down.

To say that it sucked would be missing the point entirely.

I wasn't in the clear until about 2 weeks ago...
I'm so glad it's fucking over.

In related, news, I think I need to up the dosage on my meds...

Sigh.


The Huz is still unemployed, and we've had to do all kinds of battle with unemployment--to the degree that we have a court hearing with them on the 14th, BUT, he had a very positive interview yesterday, and he'll have his final interview with the company next week, so we've got our fingers crossed extra tight.

My little baby is almost 2.
WTF, people?
Isn't my section scar still healing?

How did this happen?
Yes, I want him to grow up and develop healthily and blah, blah, blah, but 2? Already?
It's almost too much.

He says his ABCs and their phonetic sounds, he counts to 10 forward and backwards (we've almost got 11-20 down), he knows his letters and numbers in and out of context, he's pretty much got all his basic colors, and if you ask him his name he spells it out for you. His vocab has finally exploded, and he says about 100 words.
But his most phenomenal development?

He says Mama! 
Loudly and with glee!

Yes. I'm being proud and braggy.
No. I am not sorry.
Ha!

I'm taking the easy way out on his birthday party this year and having it somewhere else, where they provide everything.  He loves it there, so I don't feel guilty about it.

We're having his party early too, because of my IL's travel schedule, so I need to start working on invites...
Yikes.

The Huz and I are trying to come up with a solid 5 year plan, but so far it's still just a title on the chalkboard.
I don't know if y'all knew this, but as it turns out, 5 year plans require funding....a baseline budget to formulate said plan around.

Who'da thunk, huh?

Since we can't do much more than we're already doing about that, we're trying to channel our energies into more procreative, errr, I mean productive activities by trying to revive our deathbed of a sex life.

If you would have told me when we first started  our sex life together that by the time we hit 30 it would be all kinds of  flat-lining, I would have laughed at you.

Sure, things may slow a bit, but dead?
Nay!

But then things like living with your ILs and crumbling economics and children and miscarriages and stress come into play....

All of the sudden, the only reason you'd blow someone is if they agreed put away the laundry and take the baby for the day so you could nap, and even then you're not so sure because no one puts the laundry away correctly but you anyhow...

Am I right?

I sooooo am, kids. Take heed, young'uns!


It's hard getting back into sexy mode.
I am not sexy.
I am exhausted and covered in applesauce.

My husband is stressed and his shoulder hurts from wrestling with O.

Passionate Naked Time, this does not make.

But we are trying to work it!!

We used to be hot, damn it!
(Well, my hubs is still pretty sexy, actually.)


In an effort to be a team player, I even put my barbells in.
I took them out when O was born because I wanted to breastfeed, but we all remember how WELL that went....

You should have seen my DH's face.
It was like a kid on Christmas morning.

Thank G-d love is blind.

Also?

I'm thinking about getting bangs.


What? 

I like to end on a thoughtful note....

Bangs? Yea or Nay? And have you ever seen such an ADORABLE genius? I think not!

This is going to be one of those "Did she REALLY just share that?" posts...

So I had my 6 month visit with the Obgyn today.

Technically, I'm at 26 weeks, not 24, but whatever.

But on that note, my fundal measurement (the length from the top of your uterus to your pubic bone) is measuring at 28 weeks, so Owen could be here early.

Which is what I've been saying all ALONG, but my Doc keeps shooting that down...WHAT DOES HE KNOW? He's just the doctor. Ha.

I also gained 6 lbs since my appointment last month. I'm only supposed to gain 3-4 lbs a month, so I felt pretty behemoth (don't even get me started on the TOTAL number, yiiikes), but since I was still negative 3 lbs from my starting weight at the previous visit, I'd technically only gained 3 lbs.

He was happy with this, I was not.

I'm afraid the weight is going to start snowballing in these last 3 months.

I've heard that happening to a lot of pregnant women and it scares me.

Not from a vanity standpoint, but a health one.

I did not start this pregnancy a small girl, and even though I'd SWORN to myself that I would lose all the weight I gained after the rape before I got pregnant....

the intervening 5 years has taught me that A. life never goes according to plan, and B. 100 lbs is WAAAAAY easier to gain than it is to lose.

Obviously, being overweight is not ideal, pregnant or not, so the concept of adding 20-a gazillion lbs to that is scary, but I mostly worry about it in terms of things like gestational diabetes, and healthy labor and delivery. In 3 weeks, I'll have my glucose test, so I'm even more nervous.

I know, I just have to be careful, and I can't beat myself up, but I can't help it sometimes....


All that being said, Owen is doing great, so I should just shut up and be grateful!

On to the TMI portion of our program.....


I'm pretty sure that at this point, my vagina hates me.
I'm thinking it's because she knows of the battle that lies ahead, and is none-too-pleased about it.

I can't be sure of this of course, but all I know is that from the day I got pregnant, I have had nothing but issues in the "lady business" area.

Bladder infections, yeast infections, urinary tract....ay yai yai! It's like she's leading a protest revolt or something....

If that wasn't enough, over the last couple of months, sex has become incredibly painful.
Like the "don't even come near me, no matter how much lube you have" kind of painful.

My poor husband. He's been so understanding and patient, but the poor bastard just wants to get laid, and it's kinda, really, NOT happening for him.

First it was the morning/all day vomiting, then the round after round of antibiotics, now this.

So, I mention this in passing to my doctor last month, and he says:

"No worries, probably just from lack of sex in the previous months. Take it slow, use lube, foreplay, you'll be fine."


No dice!

So I mention it AGAIN today, during my appointment. He asks me to describe it (the pain) in a bit more detail....

Now, I am not a shy or conservative woman, but there's something a little unnerving about having to say the following the man who will deliver your child:

"Well, when he tries to penetrate, it hurts the way it would if you were still recovering from a previous night of really rough, unlubed sex, and THEN were stupid enough to go at it again at full tilt, without a breather....KnowwhatImean?"


The words just fell OUT OF MY MOUTH.

It was like I couldn't stop myself. Oh, wait, that's right: I DIDN'T.

Well, the look on his face was priceless.

He then proceeded to clear his throat, and ask me if I had any history with herpes and/or other STDs.

Thought I was going to DIE.  Roseanne Roseannadanna-style.

After I vehemently stated that I have never had herpes or any other type of creepy-crawly in my bathing suit area, he moved on to doing a vaginal culture, and concluded that it is probably a type of "non-infectious vaginitis" (mmmmmhmm, SEXY) which is apparently, super-common.

Oh, goody!
Treatment?
MORE antibiotics, and you guessed it, no sex.



Sorry, Hubalubs.

Looks like I'm not the only one "SHE" hates......