The Notorious B.I.N.K.

O was never supposed to be a binky baby.

But in trying to teach him to latch, the hospital nurses gave him one, and the love affair began...

A boy and his bink.
Inseparable.
ADORABLE.

Now, he's almost 2 and a half.

He still loooooves his bink.

In the last few months however, his bink is the thorn in my side.

It's the ONLY thing that calms him down.

It's a battle at mealtimes.

Also? The Huz had started throwing disapproving harrumphs in my general direction...

Friday night as he screamed at me because I took it out of his mouth for dinner, I decided I'd HAD it.

So I took binky and he didn't get it back.

I figured if we were able to go binky-less Fri-Sun, we would be free from the bondage of binky.

Simple, right?

(Silly, naive mommy.)

We made it through bed (after an epic meltdown) Friday night and all day Saturday.

He was miserable, I was miserable and Mr. Harrumphs-a-lot was suddenly singing the "he's just a baby" tune.

I felt like a monster, and my turncoat of a husband was not helping, but I was determined!

We were going to kick this habit!!

Saturday night, we put him down to bed and the hysterics ensued, but 20 minutes later he was asleep.

Success!
It was getting better!
It was WORKING!


You know, or not...

We went in to check on him before we went to bed, and guess who was happily snoring away in his bed with a bink stuck in his gob?

Yep.
My darling angelboy.
I swear he stashed that sucker...

Honestly?

I almost cried.

I felt like we were back at square one and all his tears were for nothing.

So we took it while he slumbered, and resolved to start tomorrow anew.

Hurray.

We made it till about 2pm this afternoon...

Huz decided he wanted to go to Disneyland.

(he's all sad-sack b/c our passes expire soon and we're not renewing)

I said nay to this excursion because it was supposed to be cold and rainy.

He insisted I was wrong, and off we went...

A couple hours later we were loading our wet and miserable selves back into the car.

Ahem.

O was soaked and tired, but not not so much so that he couldn't still be righteously pissed about leaving Mickey's House....

Awesome.

It was obvious that he needed to fall asleep, but he was fighting it with all his stubborn fury.

I caved, people.
I just did.

I was tired, drenched and pregnant.
30 minutes of screaming all the way home?

Fuck and NO.

So we gave him a bink.

Thirty Seconds.
I kid you not...
He was OUT.

We've now decided to only give it to him at nap/bedtime, removing it as soon as he falls asleep.

We hoping to then take it away at naptime and so on...

We'd tried this method before, to no avail, but maybe this will be more successful because he's a bit older...

He doesn't give a rip about rewards or binky boxes, paci-fairies, bigboy speeches or the like....

You put holes in it?
Whatevs.

He is COMMITTED.
And obstinate.
Basically, he's me.

Annnd we have a girl on the way?

I fear I have tread into deep shit...


Potty training may kill us all.
(He has ZERO interest in that, btw.)

Diapers for Everyone!!

Weekend Update....Sigh.

I'm having a serious blogging crisis, which I'm not even sure how to post about, so I'll get into that later...

Since it's been awhile though, I did want to check in--keep everybody updated on our ummmmm, errrrrm progress?

Yesterday was the one monthaversary of Huz' unemployment.
Obviously, it was an understated celebration....harumph.

He's been applying every day since he lost his job, he's been going to an employment resource center 2x a week, and he's been going to job fairs.

A dear friend even took the time to lend us her professional eye and rehauled his resume...

Annnnd, NADA.

Not even a call back.

As an added bonus?

My student loan payments went up another $200 a month.
(Found out that little gem out the day Husband lost his job.)

Sallie Mae doesn't give  a rat's ASS about my no-income situation.
I was basically told to pay up or default.

HELPFUL.

We're feeling GREAT about life.

It's only been a month, right?
Right?
Right....
(as I look nervously at my expanding belly)

We did qualify for unemployment, and got our first check in the mail today....

A whopping $342.00!

I'd laugh at the amount if we didn't need it so badly.

It's SOMETHING, so I have to focus on that.

My Medi-Cal situation is kiiiinda settled, in that I am eligible for prenatal MC, but not fully instated because their records still show that I have alternate coverage.


I dropped off our termination letter to the offices last week after FINALLY getting it from Kaiser (who took their sweet time), but when I called the MC offices, they said that the whole thing could take up to 20 business days to process....

Awesome!

So I'm in limbo, but my OB agreed to see me and just backdate for as long as he can.

Baby is doing well, and is healthy from what they can tell.

It's a GIRL btw (for those of you who don't follow facebook or twitter)!!

At least they're 90% sure it's a girl....

The last US I was able to have was right at 17wks, so they said it was a bit early, but the tech was super confident.

As she put it:
Nothing was popping UP. Ha!

I'll be 20 weeks on Monday, and I have an appt. with the Perinatalogist on the 4th.

He'll be able to do a much more thorough/detailed scan then.

But so far, everything looks good!

Physically, I'm feeling okayish.
I'm exhausted all the time, and the joint pain has already kicked into high gear, so I know I've got  A LOT to look forward to in the coming months!

I'm excited, but not as ecstatic as I thought I would be.
I mean, I'm thrilled we're having a girl...I'm thrilled we're having a BABY, but I think my enthusiasm/joy is clouded by stress and depression.

I lay awake at night wondering how we're going to make it.

Asking myself Again and Again: Where did we go so wrong?

I keep wondering/questioning, even praying:
When the FUCK are things going to ACTUALLY turn around for us?

Every time we pass by the apartment complex that we were supposed to move into, my stomach just sinks, and I feel that sting of tears behind my eyes....

Unpacking our boxes gutted us both.

It's been a really long and ugly month.
We're trying very hard to plaster a smile on our faces and soldier forward.

Whenever someone asks how we are, we say:
We're hanging in there! Trying to stay positive, and looking forward to whatever opportunity comes our way!

Which is true.
Sort of...

In the quiet moments of the day, when we're alone?

We feel stuck.
Scared.
Angry.
Heartbroken.


This pattern of two steps forward, 3 steps back has plagued us for too long.

It's no longer about my husband just finding a good job.

For us to actually move in  FORWARD motion?

He needs a fucking miracle job.
We need a sweepstakes win.
We need magic.

Since magic, miracles and Ed McMahon seem to be outta our reach, the plan is for the Huz to find a full-time job, get settled in that schedule and then take on a night/weekend job, and just begin digging our way to the top of some semblance of stability.

Piece of cake, no?

Jobs are just RIPE for the picking!
Snort.
(are we working the wrong field?)

People keep telling me that our break is just around the corner, good things happen to good people, etc....

I sure hope so.

But I think we're going to be stuck for a long damn time.

We haven't any other choice than to just keep trudging through the shit we've got and to make the best of it.

I'm honestly not sure how to keep doing that.

But we'll figure it out.

Key thing about parenthood is that it takes quitting COMPLETELY OFF the table.

Annoying, right?
Ha.






As usual, thanks to all of you who've checked in with us, offered commiseration, and are generally rooting for us.

We really appreciate all  the support.

Deja-Effing-Vu All Over Again.

My Husband lost his job Wednesday night.

He was told that while he was an excellent worker with a great set of skills, he just wasn't the right "fit."

He was there for less than 6 months.
He had been told repeatedly that it was going to take a year for him to get fully comfortable in the position.

I guess they changed their minds and decided 4.5 months was long enough.

That would have been really excellent to know at the end of December when the Huz met with his boss and was assured that his progress was just fine and his job was secure.

On January 15th we celebrated his 1st big commission check.

February 15th, he came home without a job.

It feels unreal.


We just signed a 12 month lease last Friday night.

We were supposed to start our move, our fresh start, today.

So here we are, with a lease to break, no money coming in (he wasn't given severance, a final paycheck, nada), our insurance cancelled at the end of the month, and another baby on the way.

It seems like we were standing in this same spot (for the umpteenth time) at the end of May last year...

Oh, wait.

That's because we were.

Every time we think about unpacking all our our boxes to (continue to) stay at his parent's house, I start to cry and my husband looks like he's going to vomit.

We took a drive yesterday to talk about how to move forward, and we realized that, essentially?

We can't.

Even if he were to start a new job tomorrow, unless that job paid him double what he was making at his last job, the best we'll be able to hope for is to just go back to living paycheck to paycheck, scraping together our bills and living with his parents.

For the next 5 years.

And that's under the assumption that we don't go further into the hole during this current period of unemployment.

We (again) revisited my going back to work, but it's been four years, and my health is worse now than it was then. As much as I hate to admit it, I'm not sure I could handle working 40 hrs a week again....

And as we discovered before, a child in full time daycare would cost the bulk of my paycheck. Two would most likely take the rest and then some.

Two working parents for one income?

Where's the gain in that?

I can't even begin to express how defeated/beat down we feel.

Yes, we have a roof over our heads, and yes, we have food in our stomachs, but none of it is OURS.

How long can we live here?

How long can we not even really make ends meet?

How long will it take to recover from this setback and what will be left when we do?


It may sound nihilist or overly dramatic, but as I've said before, it's about the money--the math.

If the numbers don't add up, then you can't solve the problem.

And beyond that, you can't just break even. 

There HAS to be a surplus.

Continually breaking even makes for no forward movement, and doesn't allow for any error.


The smallest of miscalculations send you straight back to the red.

This has been our lives for the last 5 years.

The debts keep rooting deeper and the stakes keep climbing higher.

We never thought our lives would be this way, that we'd be bringing two children into it....

Where the HELL did we go wrong?

More importantly--


How the FUCK do we get out of this cycle?

Not quite sure we even know how to breathe at this point.

Good News and Gambling?

Sorry this update is so late!
So so so sorry.


With the Huz being outta state for his Nana's funeral and both O and I contracting the plague-

Things have been a little hectic.

Oh, and we're moving.
In less than 2 weeks.
I think.

But I'll get to that...

The most important update is:

I am CANCER FREE!

Even the pre-cancerous cells have been down-graded from severe to mild.

The pregnancy will be able to continue along healthily as planned! Yay!

Honestly, for the first couple of days afterward, I couldn't wrap my brain around it. I kept waiting for them to call back saying there'd been a mistake...

My OB was shocked. He was fully expecting cancer. He's honestly still guarded, and will be checking my cervix every 2 months...

For now, I'm taking the news and running with it!

I feel like we can FINALLY get excited about this pregnancy.

What a concept!

Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou again to everyone who sent love, encouragement, and prayers our way.

You guys are just frikken fantastic.

Ok, on to the move-

If you know me irl, or have read along for any decent length of time, you know that we live with my in-laws

What was supposed to be 4-6 months has managed to linger now for 3.5 years...

With a second child coming, we need to move. All parties agree.

The problem, as with most of life, is the math.

It doesn't add up.

With one income, two kids, a stack of bills and a pile of debt, our paychecks vaporize on contact.

Our one possible saving grace is that my Huz' job has the opportunity for commission.

His probationary period was over mid-December and he made his first commission in January.

That check alone was almost a month's worth of salary.

Right into savings it flew to add to the nest egg we're desperately attempting to build...

Great, right?

We thought it was, so we started seriously looking for apartments.

We've been searching on a preliminary basis for the past year almost, but this time, we actually started touring places...

We needed a 2bd, first floor unit, preferably with washer/dryer hookups.

And we needed to stay close to my in-laws because I can't drive and would occasionally need transportation...

As we live in SoCal and the ILs happen to live in a fairly affluent section therein, this was all adding up to A LOT of money.

We were about ready to resign ourselves to our fate when a good friend mentioned a move-in special at her complex...

They were offering a 2bd/2ba unit on the 1st floor WITH w/d hookups and a small patio for 300-400 bucks less a month than anywhere else we'd seen.

And they paid for several utilities...

We put a holding deposit down, but then Nana died and Husband flew out for the funeral.

Our hold was only good for 48hrs, and several other people were interested...

I was pretty sure we were screwed.
But, turns out?

They held it for us because they knew we were handling a family death.

Really?!

We found out on Friday that we were approved for the apt. and can move in on 2/18 if we so wish...

We were positively giddy.
I don't think either one of us expected to get the place--definitely NOT so quickly.

Hoooray!
Look at us!
We're moving!
Ahhh!

At this point, math reared it's ugly head and stopped us dead in our tracks...

We'd never make it work on our base salary alone.

Huzzle would HAVE to bring in a substantial amount of commission every month or we'd be effed.

Sigh.

We "knew" that, but it really slapped us in the face when signing a lease became an ACTUAL possibility.

But if we waited until we could live on just the base?

We'd be bunkin' with the 'rents for at least another 3 years...

As my MIL so eloquently put it:

"Ummm, no. None of us can handle that..."

Quite.

So we have to take a leap, and do our best to hit the ground running and make it work.

But is that smart? Is it the right thing to do?

We could stay another 6-12 months, in an attempt to save some more, but I don't think it would make a huge difference...

I also can't help but wonder how much harder it would be to move/transition after a new child is born?

Ugh.

I know in my gut (and also been confirmed by a trusted circle) that we just need to take the risk and do this-- if we don't we'll always find a reason to stay or why it's "not the right time" etc.

We need this.
For our marriage.
For our parenthood.

For our future and all of the momentum and confidence we've lost over the last few years.

But we're really fucking scared.

We don't want to make a huuuuge mistake and fail miserably.

Basically, we are terrified of 2007-08 happening all over again.

Job loss, economy crashing, financial implosion, oh my!

There isn't a nice, tidy solution to this like I want...and that's irritating.

This is a gamble no matter what, but it has to be one we take.

I'm so not good at this type of shit.

Wish us luck! Lots and lots of it!

Big money! Big money! Big moneeeeey!

Ha!

We make our final decision this Friday.
Gulp.

Blog Posts from the EDGE.

Not to be melodramatical or anything, but I think I might be headed for a bit of a nervous break down...

If you've been reading along as of late, you know things aren't so peachy.

I'm a clinically depressed pregnant and unmedicated mama of a 2yo old with more than a dash of chronic illnesses...

Eh. Whatevs. Right? Right.

Then I found out I might have cancer.

Then someone rear-ended us and fucked up our car.

Then my Huz's Nana died.

I'm feeling tons of guilt on that front, b/c I loved his Nana and I so wish I could fly out with him for the funeral, but it's not my focus.

My focus is on the baby growing in my belly and the possible cancer that could be invading my reproductive system...

Meanwhile-

the boy got sick.
Then I got sick
All in the last week.

Now my husband is sick, and I'm just getting sicker. Pretty sure we all need antibiotics...

Also fairly certain I have an ear infection, and frankly, I want to crawl in bed and die.

All of that I can handle...

What I can't, is the email from my Ob's office informing me that the earliest I can expect biopsy results is tomorrow morning.

My Huz gets on a plane to West Virginia for his Nana's funeral tomorrow morning at 5 am...

So IF I get the call tomorrow, I'm going to be ALONE.

If it's good news, as in:

"Hey, it's still just severe pre-cancer, so no worries! We'll just do a hysterectomy after you deliver. Easy Peasy, gurl!"

Then I'll do a little dance with O, call my husband, and maybe, finally breathe. Through my mouth though, as my nose is filled with snot...

If it's bad news, as in:

"You have Cancer, and we need to discuss your 'options' in regards to your pregnancy and treatment"


I may just go off the deep-end.
I'm stretched a tad thin...

Send up some lovin' for me if you can.


Thanks so much to all of you who's been on top of that so awesomely already.

Love you crazy kids.

Today...

Last night we were rear-ended by a teenager.

((It was really fucking scary for a few minutes...the way car accidents usually are. Minutes that feel like eternity))

We're fine, the baby is fine, and our car is kinda fucked up.

Several hours, an exchange of information and an ER visit later, the accident was over...

But all I could think about was how that accident didn't bode well for today ...

At 1:30 I had my colposcopy.
First thing my OB said was:

This will take maybe 5 minutes--

It's safe for the baby, and we won't risk biopsying anything because of the potential harm to the pregnancy, UNLESS something is seen which could indicate the cells are already cancerous/invasive.

Fifteen minutes into them rooting around in my nether-regions, Dr. OB announces:

I need to do a biopsy.

Oh.Fuck.Me.

I was told over and over that there would be NO biopsies unless they saw cancer...

They finish up, and he tells me to meet him in his office...

I lose my shit.

Sitting in his office I'm told that I have a field of severe precancerous cells present, which he had expected given the pap, but unfortunately he also saw with a small area where the cell changes were cause for "concern."

I'm panicked, guys.

My OB told me to stay calm, because possibly? It's nothing.

Or, ya know, it's CERVICAL CANCER.

The alarm over having cancer is secondary at best.

I just want to have my baby.

[Well, and not die from cancer, but I think that goes without saying...]


Stay Calm?

I'm having trouble with the idea of calm right now.

I should have definitive answers by the beginning of next week.

Keep a good thought for us, would you?

I sorta feel like I'm running out of air...

What's good, what's bad and what could be...

I kept waiting to write this post until I had all the answers and certainties that I needed to be clear/concise/informational...

Then I realized if I didn't get it all off my chest, I might explode.

I have said it before, and I'm sure I'll say it again, but Pregnancy and I were just not meant to be BFFs.

This truly saddens me to my core.

(PS, Before anyone freaks out, I am STILL pregnant.)

If you need to catch up, go here
I'll wait, no big....
.....
......
..........

Okay, so now that we're all up on the haps, here we go!


As of today, I've made it to 12 weeks.
I had a 2nd ultrasound last week and the baby is Healthy and Busy!


This is the good.

The bad is this-

I finally got some answers on the dodgy pap situation....

Little PSA for a sec, ladies?


Get your Paps regularly!!!
It's so freaking important.
Last year?
My Pap was a clean a whistle.
This year?
Not so much.
Anything can change in a year, you never know. Stay on top of it and get checked!




I found out that I have severe precancerous cells in my cervix.
The technical term is High Grade Squamous Intraepithelial Lesions (HGSIL).

Sounds comforting, right?


As it has been explained to me by my OBGYN--These cells will turn into cancer (if they haven't already) if not removed.

Typically, they would just go in and surgically remove the cells immediately without any real issue....

but the procedure can't be performed on a pregnant woman without killing the baby.

Swell.

Since I can't even be biopsied without jeopardizing the baby's health, my OBGYN will be doing a  a colposcopy to determine how invasive the cells are--which will decide whether or not I can wait to deliver the baby and then be treated.

My colposcopy is scheduled for this Thursday.  My OBGYN has said that his plan is to wait to treat me until after the birth, unless the results show that the HGSIL has crossed over into cancer territory.

Then we have to make some "decisions."
Read: Terminate the pregnancy

{Further recommended treatment btw? A hysterectomy. Yep.}


I've already have many friends tell me stories of how someone they knew went through the exact same thing, and everything was just fine, but I can't help but be well, terrified.


I watched my mother go through this a t 34.  And it wasn't fine. Not at all.

I'm really afraid that it won't be fine. 
That as usual, I'll defy statistics and it will be bad...


All I really care about at this point is delivering my child safely and healthily.
If that means I have to forsake my reproductive system, than so be it.

Do I want to be wombless a nd menopausal at 31? 
Can't say that I do...
But I would rather be that then have to abort my child.


Cause, guys?
As much as everyone has been trying to dance around it with me?


That's my child in there.
With fingers and toes, and a face.
I've seen the baby move.


If the worst news comes my way and it is actual cancer and not just starter-cancer, and I can do it without killing myself, I will ride the pregnancy out for as long as I possibly can to give my child a chance to live.

I believe strongly in that.


If it means more aggressive treatment for me after the baby is born, than that will be what I have to do.


Because the other option is a death sentence.

Maybe not for me, but one all the same.

People conveniently leave that out a lot.


And to make the choice  to "Save Myself" would feel like the worst thing I'd ever done.

Sigh.

But it's going to be fine, right?




Holy fuck, I hope so.

Trying to squeeze some happiness outta this ordeal