Before we did it, I had the longest ultrasound I have ever had in my life!  But, in the end, I am happy they did…!  Why?  Look below and click for a larger view!

Yes, that's right!  A girl!  Who knew?  I had pretty much resigned myself to the idea that I was only capable of producing boys!  So a little girl is pretty amazing.  Here's a few more clickable shots.

But I am still waiting on the results of the amnio itself.  The FISH test is due tomorrow or Wednesday, the rest of the tests confirming it and the results coming over the next couple of weeks.  I am terrified, thanks to the first OB from hell.  And it being compounded by the judgments I am getting for how I am reacting to being pregnant and being pregnant with a girl.  And that sure as hell isn't helping me at all.

The fact is that I am scared.  Scared that there are going to be things wrong with this baby that mean I will never have her.  And it will break my heart.  I am afraid to fall in love with this child, afraid to let myself be happy, because  I just don't know yet.  It doesn't mean I don't want to be, just that I know what it will do to me if the worst comes to be.  If the universe gives me my girl just to take her away, it will destroy me.  I know this.  And I feel like I have to protect myself until I know there is no need to.

But apparently that makes me a terrible person.  I have had this conversation more than once, questioned to the point of interrogation about why I am not more excited, why I haven't started shopping and planning.  I have explained, and tried to do it in a nice way with social cues that really should be picked up.  And instead, I get lectured over and over about why I am so wrong and even intimating that, should anything go wrong, it is my fault for my way of thinking.  I guess the fact that DNA is DNA and has nothing to do with it means nothing.  But, yeah, it definitely helps to be told that I am at fault.

Why can't I deal with this in my own way and feel how I do without being judged for it, without being told how I should be and what I should do?  This is my life, my heart.  I am stressed beyond all that is imaginable about this and the judgments are doing nothing but making it worse.  

Baby News

I was supposed to have my amnio on this past Monday, which would have meant answers by Friday.  Well, that didn't happen so I have had a non-stop series of mini-breakdowns since Friday afternoon.  The OB's office called me mid-afternoon Friday and told me that Obstetrix (the high risk pregnancy center out of Tuscon) had not received the Tricare referral number they needed.  Tricare has been a mess since they switche carriers from TriWest.  Things are backlogged, records screwed up.  I have spent a good portion of my time on th phone with them, trying to get my referrals straight.  It hasn't helped matters that, in the midst of this, I switched OBs, too.  So I called Tricare.  It was still pending but they told me that if I had Obstetrix call the Medical Management office, they would immediately set it straight and everything would be okay.  So I called Obstetrix, but they weren't the referring office; the OB was.  I called the OB office back, told them this, and the receptionist refused to call because she thought it would take too long.  I had already had one attempt at the amnio so she had me call Obstetrix back ang get that referral number because it should be the same.  Turns out I never should have had the attempt because it was never in the system for referral.  They had called my old OB that day and she submitted the referral for the retry appointment, the one that is pending.  When I switched OBs, all the referrals in place with her switched one for one to my new doctor, so there was no issue there.  I called the OB once again and the receptionist absolutely refused to even attempt it.  Now I understand not being able to spend hours on the phone, waiting for an answer, but she could have at least tried.  I talked to those people about 4 times in this process and had no problem getting through.  By this time, I was in tears.  Nothing I said made a difference, despite the fact that my stress and angst was very obvious.  So no appointment.  I have an OB appointment tomorrow and something better change with this.

I realize that many probably think I am making too big a deal out of this, but it is what it is for me.  I recognize that part of my problem is the horrific experience I had with the first OB, but some of it is because I know just how high risk I am.  My gestational diabetes, while borderline, still isn't always where they want it to be, no matter how I eat.  My glyberide doses have changed so maybe that will help.  But the fact remains that there a lot of things that can go wrong.  And as my original OB has repeatedly told me, there is still a good chance that my baby will have issues that are incompatible with life.  The longer this amnio, and my answers, get put off, the more my options and choices diminish.  The bottom line is that I need answers.  The stress is not doing me any good.  I cry a ton and I spend a whole lot of time not sleeping.

School News

I love my school; I truly do.  My issues are simply with this one professor.  Nothing seems to be getting any better on the school front.  No matter what I or my mentor do, my professor seems to be completely unmotivated to do anything at all.  The semester is over on Friday and I am no closer to a resolution of it than I was before the semester began.  My mentor has tried to get results; I have tried to get results.  Nothing.  It is truly irritating.  

SUNY Empire State is the biggest in the SUNY system, with campuses all over the place, including overseas and on military posts.  I go to the Center of Distance Learning portion of it.  They offer classes in a bunch of different formats.  Most of mine are regular CDL online classes, taken through the Angel bulletin board system.  I also take a lot of independent study, thanks to my creative writing major.  Those are either through the CDL itself or considered to be "college-wide," where the instructors are assigned to specific campuses with my university.  Both of my classes in crisis are with the same professor, CW independent studies with her assigned to the Central New York zone.

Because she is not CDL, my mentor has had to go through her local boss, upon whom I am waiting for a phone call to discuss my issue.  With the semester two days from the end, a resolution would be nice.  Fortunately for me, I am a email hoarder and have proof up the wazoo. A bunch of resolutions have been suggested by my mentor, so I guess I will see,  

• Resolution 1:  Withdraw without penalty, but then I would have to pay back my tuition.
• Resolution 2:  Have her get her act together and spend my summer "off" finally doing the courses.
• Resolution 3:  Find another teacher teach these classes, but they are obscure subject.
• Resolution 4:  Find another teacher to teach me other classes that fulfill the same requirements.

Frankly, I need answers and resolutions here, too.  GRRR!

Last week, I saw the nutritionist and she spent the entire time talking to me like I was purposely fat just to hurt my baby.  She talked to me in a very slow speed, as if I were too stupid to understand multisyllabic words.  She didn't want to hear anything I had to say.  It's insulting.

I know that the doctor means well and is trying to take care of me and my baby and I appreciate that.  But her bedside manner and tact need work.  I don't need to be told multiple time how old I am, how fat I am, how high risk I am.  I counted today and in a single 20 minute consultation, these three things were brought up 18 times.  That is not necessary.  We all know I am old.  We all know I am a bit overweight.  We all know I am high risk.  Like the nutritionist, she doesn't always want to hear what I have to say, dismissing me as if I am trying to blow sunshine up her ass.  Or talking to me like I am an idiot.  She was bombarding me with info about tests and screenings today, one right after another.  I had a question regarding the difference between two procedures and she ripped the papers she had just given me right out of my hand with a huge sigh of disgust.  Was that really necessary?  Did she have to make me feel even worse in the midst of a stressful situation?  Not to mention the lovely paper cut I now have.

Does it have to be slammed in my face constantly, as if I am at fault for things that haven't even happened yet?  I am not an idiot.  I get that I am high risk.  I don't need to be told this ad infinitum.  I understand it.  Having it pushed in my face all the time does nothing but add to the stress, the fear, the worry.  Is it necessary to constantly make me feel as if I am the scum of the earth for getting pregnant?  Is it necessary to make me feel like I am a terrible person?  Is it necessary to treat me as if I am a dolt with no brain?  I can't escape it.  

For one, I don’t think I have entirely grasped the idea that I even AM pregnant.  I spent the last several years in such crappy health and having my doctor tell me that it wasn’t even possible.  So then, at the ripe old age of 42, finding out that I am pregnant was a bit of a shock.  And with that comes the constant worry about the health of this baby.  There are risks when one is the age that I am and I worry about that constantly.  The stress is almost overwhelming sometimes.  We go for genetic counseling (more on that in a moment) on 15 April in Tuscon to see about various tests available to me to check on the baby.  The fact is that I am a high risk pregnancy, partially due to my age and partially due to my weight.  My health has caused me to put on weight over the last several years, although it has gotten progressively better since moving to Arizona.  In fact, that improved health is probably exactly why I was able to get pregnant at all.  But it is what it is.  I have more weight on me than is ideal, although I have lost a lot since being here.  My OB/GYN wants me on a 1500 calorie-a-day diet, so that I add no more weight during my pregnancy but get sufficient nutrition for Baby Zoe (named in the tradition of all my embryos after Sesame Street characters).  This doesn’t sound like a lot, and I thought it was going to be hard to do.  I was right, but not for the reasons I thought.  For the last several years, despite the weight gain, I have not been eating like I should.  It isn’t that I have been eating crap and ballooning.  Actually, the weight is a side effect of the health issues, NOT food.  I have been so sick that keeping much of anything down has been sort of “hit and miss”.  Corey is always on me that I haven’t eaten enough, which I pushed off.  While I knew in my head that he was right, the size of my ass argued with me.  I always joke that if I am going to have a fat ass, I ought to have the appetite to go with it.  So, when the doctor told me this, I downloaded an excellent calorie counter app to my phone and I religiously record everything I eat.  The astounding thing for me was how hard it was to keep to this.  I didn’t realize just how little I eat until I started tracking it.  My first day, I made about 900+ calories by 2200 and had to push myself to get to 1300.  My second day was worse, just over 1100 calories.  Today, even counting in my dinner for tonight, lunch, breakfast, and a snack, I am just over 900 calories.  I need more than that for this baby.  I feel like I am stuffing myself, even though it is healthy food I am eating.  I had no idea how stressful this could be!

But the hardest part to get past is the sheer amount of judgment that is being cast my way from unexpected places.  It isn’t about my age and pregnancy, but about being pregnant at all and my own personal choices.  I feel like I have to justify my pregnancy, and that just shouldn’t be.  There are those who are acting as if I did this on purpose, simply to offend them.  Which is insane, since I didn’t even think it was possible to even get pregnant.  The passive-aggressive, snarky comments behind my back… they don’t escape my notice and they hurt.  My being pregnant is no reflection on anyone else and my choices are my own.  So the comments about mothers with multiple children having more children being irresponsible… not your judgment to make.  If I can afford them and can love them, then that is what counts.  I don’t deserve to be judged simply because I am fertile.  Nature ran its course, end of story.  And yet, with this post, I have justified my pregnancy.  Not right.

I made a comment recently on my Facebook page about the fact that we were going to genetic counseling.  That was all I said, that we had an appointment for it.  I ended up taking it down because, within seconds, I was attacked by several people.  The fact that I am going for counseling is nobody’s decision or business but mine and Corey’s.  The fact is that my age is a factor in the health of my baby.  Genetic counseling and testing is a tool.  Counseling is an information gathering appointment, plain and simple.  It educates us on risks, possible tests, and what they mean for us.  That is it.  I believe in being prepared for anything I can be.  That’s what genetic counseling and testing is.  It is not a statement on any potential choices I make, although those, too, are my right and my business.  I was called all kinds of names by several people who thought they had the right to tell me what my choices should or shouldn’t be.  This is my pregnancy, my family, my body, my choices, my business.  The fact is that when Tyler was born with his cleft lip and palate, I wasn’t prepared.  The special tests I had had done prior to birth when there was a suspicion of it were never read, so I was blindsided when he was born.  I was a basket case with guilt and fear.  I don’t ever want to go through that again.  Hence, being prepared.  And, once again, I have justified my choices, which truly pisses me off.

It makes it hard to get excited when I am in a constant state of stress.  Between the worry and the hurt from those who are supposed to be my friends, it puts a damper on it all.  And it doesn’t help that Corey has something inexplicable going on with his left arm that worries the hell out of me.  It started out with some numbing on the pads of a few fingers and a random area on his left area.  He went to the doctor who couldn’t find anything obvious, but ruled out pinched nerves and felt it would go away in a week or two.  It’s been a week and now he has discovered that there is a definitive loss of strength in that arm.  This scares the hell out of me.

All in all, it has been kind of rough going emotionally, and that doesn’t really help.  I need support, not judgment.

Well, the telling of the children went well!  I told Donovan who responded with a series of “OMG, OMG, OMG” before calming down.  For the younger three, Corey set the stick down on the table and acted like he found it in the trash and somebody was in trouble!  They sat in stunned silence for a moment.  Scott and Ka’lani recognized it for what it was and just sat there.  Corey told them to look at it, which they did.  Ka’lani mutters “pregnant” at just about the same time Scott did.  It took about 10 more seconds for them to get it and then they went nuts.  Ka’lani squealed for about a half hour.  Scott just sat there and grinned at me with a goofy face.  Ty jumped up and hugged me and started kissing my stomach.  He was the one I was worried about, seeing as he is my little man and super attached to me.  Instead, he is all kinds of excited.  So I am much relieved by that!

The bad…

I have clearly irritated some people by getting pregnant.  I have had more than my fair share of snotty comments made to me about it.  I also had a few be nice to my face and then go ahead and be passive-aggressively rude about it.  I respect that there are those with fertility issues and such, but I didn’t plan my unplanned pregnancy to offend anyone.  Hell, I didn’t truly think I still could get pregnant.  So that sucks, but what exactly am I supposed to do about it?  It definitely sucks, because I could really use a good friend right now about it.

In the meantime, it is what it is.  I am definitely concerned about my age and all the issues that can come with that, but I can’t do anything about that for awhile yet.  I am trying not to stress too hard about it, but it is really not easy to do.  Today I go see the nurse on post for pregnancy counseling and to get set up with a referral to an OB/GYN in town to get my pre-natal started.

Holy crap.  How the hell did this happen?!  Yes, I know what leads to it (!) but I am still beyond shocked and a little freaked out about it!

Prof Love

Goodness Kim, this is close to a masterpiece and completely publishable in a military oriented magazine or website.

-Professor Jeff Cahan

This is really the least of it all, but a moment that really made me feel amazingly good.  The above is the first line of an email I got on Tuesday night and saw first thing yesterday morning.  He is my Creative Nonfiction professor, commenting on a draft I wrote for the class.  It was about homecomings, those wonderful nights when soldiers come home from deployment.  That he felt this way really meant a lot.  That Corey lost it while reading it last night meant even more.  I’m on the right track!

Amazingly Brilliant Son Love

So Donovan decided to graduate a year early from college, even with a double major.  This left him with many months less than average to complete his thesis and go through the grad school process.  This year has been rough on him, crazy busy and stressed to the max.  He called me yesterday at lunch time, sobbing hysterically to the point that, if it hadn’t been for Caller ID, I wouldn’t have known it was him.  It scared the living hell out of me.  But it wasn’t bad, it was amazingly, wonderfully good.  He got into grad school at Boston University!  It is a crazy competitive program, intense as hell because they do the same amount of work in 2 years that most programs do in 4.  Only 15 people are selected, so he had to beat out several hundred for his slot.  So awesome!  It is one of the top schools in the country for forensic anthropology (think Bones) AND his first choice.  I am so ridiculously proud of him!

And Baby Makes Seven

Yeah, you read that right.  I am pregnant.  You could have knocked me over with a feather.  NOT expected AT all.  A little scary, really, considering I will be 43 this summer.  I honestly didn’t think I still could GET in the family way.  I guess I can hope for a girl this time, huh?

I got a lot of love for it, which I appreciate.  But I have gotten some hate, too.  I am trying to be understanding about that, too, but I can’t deny that it hurts a bit.  

It’s been a bit of a “what the hell” kind of week!

Ty: Mom, I don’t ever want to grow up because I can’t imagine life without you. I would be lonely!!

Why, yes, Ty! You can have ANYTHING you want!

Life Without You

This is from a status I posted on Facebook last night.  Out of nowhere, Ty ran up to me as I was sitting on the couch before dinner, threw his arms around me, and said those words.  I melted, as I always do when a kid says something sweet like that.  I have absolutely no idea what precipitated it, but I will take it when I can get it.  At first, I thought it was just one of those kid moments, but then I realized his eyes were brimming with tears.  What?!  I asked him what was wrong and all he would say is that he loved me “SO much.”  So we hugged, and we cuddled and that was seemingly it.  But it wasn’t.  I have been sleeping in the Lady Lair lately because the hubs has been coughing all night long and I need to get SOME sleep.  Last night, Ty snuggled into me, sneaking his way into my heart and into sleeping in there with me.  I was on my side and he snuggled in tightly behind me, wrapping his little arms around me and squeezing hard.  Within moments, he was resting his cheek on mine and that’s when I realized it was wet.  He was trying valiantly to stop the tears, but failing miserably.  He told me again that he didn’t want to grow up, this time because growing up meant I would die.  It was heartbreaking.  He was just torn apart about it.

I have no idea what brought on this moment of impending mortality.  On one hand, it made my heart cry for the pain he was so obviously in.  On the other hand, it made my heart sing with the strength of his pure love for me.  That is a pretty powerful thing, the sheer amount of love he was feeling for me.  It was humbling.

The Meaning of Love

That’s what love is really about.  The purity, the strength of it.  Without conditions, without expectations.  Just from the heart.  It comes from yourself, from your kids, from your significant other, from your family, from your friends.  But it is true and it is pure.

Sometimes something happens that just makes you profoundly grateful for what you have, even if it isn’t much.  It is easy to get caught up in life and forget that things could be worse.

This morning a group of illegals was discovered out at the flight line.  Ironically, they were in the process of buying Mountain Dew at the vending machine outside one of the buildings.  Some of the civilians out there came upon them and called the MPs.  They came out, cuffed the group, and took them off.  It turns out that they got lost crossing the border and inadvertently wound up on post.  Apparently, this is quite common on post, as Mexico is just outside the borders of post.  Typically, they come in over the mountains and through the canyons and frequently end up on post, an admittedly big logistical error.

The group of guys were caught by a few of the civilians out there and not once did they try to run.  That tells me that they have honor and integrity.  They sat and waited patiently for the MPs, knowing what was in store for them.  Corey sent me a pic of the group of guys and it tugged at my heart strings.

Forget the politics and think about the human beings beyond their illegal status.  Stop a second and think about what kind of life you have to have that would motivate you to leave everything you have ever known behind.  What kind of life would make you run, generally with not much more than the clothes on your back, knowing you could be caught and arrested at any moment?  How bad must things be at home that running like that seems like a better option?

I can’t even imagine it.  I have lived in lean times; that is sometimes a part of Army life.  You definitely don’t join the Army for the wealth.  I have lived in dark times, sometimes very dark times.  I have lived with fear and with sadness, sometimes to the point of almost being overwhelming.  But even during my absolute worst times, it has never been so bad that I could imagine having no other choice but to leave everything I have ever known and run.  I can’t imagine the fear, the desperation, the helplessness that these people must feel.

I have always had options, choices.  I may not have much, but I have enough.  More than enough.  I have food.  I have a warm and comfortable home.  I have my family, my friends.  I have money coming in through Corey.  I am able to go to school.  I may be fighting a long-term health issue, but I have medical care and I am alive and fighting.  I am so unbelievably lucky.

My heart breaks for these men, and others like them.  I don’t know them and I never will.  But my heart cries for any person that has to live without hope.

E aloha kekahi i kekahi.
(Love one another.)
Hawaiian proverb

Weekend in the Lady Lair

I buried myself in nothing but relaxation this weekend, feeling like poo and needing a bit of a mental health break.  I spent the weekend lounging in the Lady Lair, watching all eight Harry Potter movies and reading non-school books.  Considering the week I have in store, I am probably going to regret this later, but sometimes you just need to take the break so I did!

The Dawn of Monday

To say that my “to do” list for my classes this week is daunting would be a wee bit of an understatement.  I have a ton of reading to do this week for class, not too mention a rough draft of a paper and a final draft of another.  Someone tell me why I thought going back to school was such a great idea?!  Four classes, all of them upper level and three of them writing intensive.  Apparently, I go big or go home…!  Eep!

But the week has started out well, despite my overwhelming amount of work.  The latest issue of Wild Sister magazine was released today, and I have an article in it!  There is a giveaway on the site for this issue here.  It is also available for purchase for $5 here.  This month’s theme is “Love Thyself” and it is chock full of beautiful things.  I love this magazine and have been reading it since it came out.  I belong to the Wild Sister group as well, so it seemed like a natural step to write an article for them.  I am hoping that I will be able to write more for them soon.

I had a lovely ebook waiting in my inbox this morning from the ever lovely and amazing Dominee of Blessing Manifesting.  It is a free ebook about Valentine’s Day and you get it when you sign up for her newsletter.  It is fabulous!  What I love is that it celebrates love and reminds us all that the most important love can be that of ourselves.  It is a fabulous reminder, too, that Valentine’s Day is just that, a single day.  It isn’t the ruler by which we should measure our own self-worth or our relationships.  Real love, in all its forms, exists in every day.  It isn’t geared to those in relationships, nor is it focused on singles.  Instead it is full of inspiration and fun ideas to not only take the pressure off an overly hyped day, but to turn it into a celebration.  Truly awesome!