Grief

Grumpy's mom passed away the day after I last published here. She was home, she had family with her, and she went as peacefully and painlessly as we could have hoped for under the circumstances. Since then, we've planned and attended/hosted the memorial service, and are working on the business of "getting on with life".

Grump's is hanging in there, but - as anyone who either knows him, or has been through this would know - it's not easy. He's got school to occupy much of his time and energy, and we both have the excitement of looking forward to Lil H's arrival (OMG only 10 weeks left!), but there are always those quiet moments that you have to yourself, where your new reality sneaks up and kicks you in the ass. I've had them with both my Grandfather and my Dad, and now he's having them (as am I, but to an obviously lesser degree) with his mom.

Grieving is hard frickin' work, but there is no option other than to do it.

Cranky McCranky-Pants

First off, all things pregnancy related are still moving along swimmingly. I had a doctor appointment this morning, and Lil H and I are right on track in all measurable categories. I'm being kicked in all kinds of fun places as a regular occurrence, and sometimes I swear the lil sucker is trying to break out through my cervix. It's very strange - very strange indeed!

Now, if you're not interested in reading the ranting lunacy of a grieving, hormonal, bitchy pregnant person, I suggest you just click-click your sweet little self away from this here blog right about now.


K?


Still here?


You're sure you want to do that?


Well, ok then...


But don't say you weren't warned!


As I've discussed many, many, many MANY times here before (seriously, check out the "Prayer Request" label), Grumpy's mom is ill.

She's recently gotten worse.

Much, MUCH worse.

As in, "no other treatment options" and "hospice services" worse. Fortunately, she's home, where she is undoubtedly more comfortable than if she were stuck in the hospital or other facility. Which, in itself, is a blessing. One daughter was in town to see her this past weekend, the other daughter will be in within a couple of weeks. The family is preparing to say good-bye, and left with nothing to do but wait for the end.

And that SUCKS!

If you've never been through it before, let me say that in my opinion, having lived through both types of losses, I would much rather lose a family member suddenly than have to watch them fight and fight and fight, only to lose their battle and waste away to nothing. That's not to suggest that either situation is EASY - not by any stretch of the imagination. But watching someone's will to live be sucked out of their broken but not quite beaten body... It's a torture that I wouldn't wish on anyone, patient or caregivers.

In the midst of all the waiting, we're of course dealing with the personality conflicts that arise during such stressful times. Control-freaks that have no control over the situation their loved one is facing now find themselves grasping for control over whatever situation they are presented with - whether it's appropriate for them to control or not. Battered egos and too-long-held grudges are rearing their ugly heads. Decisions are made and re-made, depending on who feels the need to express their opinions, and whose opinions are deemed worthy of being considered. The family circles the wagons, while managing to throw stones at each other.

Everyone is overwhelmed and nobody has any opportunity to escape, or decompress, even for the tiniest of moments. Because we all know what reality is waiting for us at the end of that teeny, tiny escape... And reality is not any kind of fun right now.

I've never been much of an escapist... I've wished for things to be different, and have made lots and LOTS of plans to get them to change. Hell, I've even followed through on some of those plans. But right now all I want to do is take Grumps and our furkids someplace far, far away where there is no cell service, no wi-fi, no illness or decisions or commitments, where we can just BE for a little while. Quiet - silly - introspective - but most of all, alone. I'm craving quiet, and wanting very badly to circle our own little wagons. I suppose that could be an extension of the nesting instinct - wanting to protect our little family from the cruelties of the outside world. But, this isn't the outside world, and I don't have any choice but to broaden my shoulders, and carry whatever part of this familial load that I am able to carry...

20 weeks!

All seems to be going remarkably well in pregnancy land over here. We had the BIG ultrasound (results of which will be kept private until immediate family is made aware), but the important thing is that it was another showing that our Lil H is doing just lovely in there.

I've been feeling movement consistently for a couple of weeks now. Its - bizarre. Very bizarre in deed. In the best possible bizarro-world way. But, still... bizarre.

I will say that emotionally, altho I don't think I've stepped into the hormonal mood swing insanity too frequently thus far, I do find myself changing, a lot. I'm withdrawing from people, from things. Focusing more on myself, my body, my marriage, our families. I don't think I'm intentionally turning my back on others, but I do know that I'm not putting the work into some of my friendships the way I had in previous months. And sadly, I haven't quite processed how I feel about that yet.

For those of you counting, I'm in my 20th week, so I've hit that halfway point! Yee-haw! (That's what you're supposed to say, right?) Except that I'm suddenly finding myself a wee bit overwhelmed with ALL there is TO DO. The first half of this pregnancy has sailed by quicker than I realized, and now there is all of this talk about nursery colors, and furniture, and registering, and a baby shower, and holy crap I wanna nap!

Someone out there do me a favor and tell me this is normal, mmmkay?

Again?

First things first, since I know I've been HORRIBLE about updating... at 15.5 weeks, everything pregnancy related seems to be moving along swimmingly. Doc is happy, my stomach and appetite are getting there, and my jeans are not. I figure that's about all I can ask for that this point.


I seem to be struggling again. Be it seasonal, situational, or my own fucked-up-edness, the depression seems to have found me. It's incredibly frustrating to be here, in this place that I honestly didn't know that I'd ever get to, and be completely incapable of reveling in it. Hell, I struggle to just enjoy it from time to time.

Family is a mess, finances are ok but I'm not sure for how long, our neighborhood is going to hell and we are absolutely positively completely STUCK in it for at least another 13 months.

But, we're both healthy, Grumps is doing smashingly in school, the bills ARE still getting paid, I am still employed, and HOLY FUCK, I'm PREGNANT for God's sake!

Funk, funk, go away - and don't worry about coming back another day! Please?

10 Weeks?

That's where the calendar says I'm at. 10 weeks pregnant. If that's not the most surreal thing I've ever typed here, I don't know what is.

I'm discovering another problem with my infertility experience. I'm not suggesting this is a problem EVERYONE would encounter. Just one that I am, and I'm struggling with it. So, I figure if I am, someone else may, too. And this whole community thing is supposed to be about sharing experiences and all that, so here goes.

My 5 and a half years of infertility and one BIG, GIANT EFFECT (well, one that is bothering me NOW, anyway), and that is it allowed me to over romanticize the whole notion of pregnancy.

Granted, I did get to take the surprise test, and make the surprise announcements. And, truth be told, that was pretty "sunshine and roses and fairy-tale-esque" (I'm gagging myself, so I'm sorry).

But, in those 65 ish months of trying, of WANTING this, I was able to completely gloss over the possibility that IF I were to get pregnant, perhaps I would be one of those women that pregnancy wouldn't agree with.

And - it turns out - I am.

I'm not violently ill or anything. I'm still able to work (most of the time, a full day, too). I completely and fully recognize that it could be SO. MUCH. WORSE.

I also recognize that I am sounding like one of those ungrateful bitches that we all love to bash, but dammit, its my blog, and I'll whine if I want to.

I guess the best way I can explain my symptoms is that it's like I've been on the verge of some kind of stomach virus.... for 5 weeks now. I'm tired and achey (and whiney!) and nauseated, and feel like I should never ever be more than about 5 steps away from a place that I could "shout groceries" in private. Fortunately there hasn't been a whole lot of actual grocery shouting, but to feel on the verge - all the damn time - is a less than ideal way to live.

Gah... waaaah waaaah bitch bitch moan moan... I'm tired of writing this, I can't imagine how sick you are of reading it.

Preggo-bitch, Out!