Rainy Days

Rain Rain go away...

So here it is raining, while my parents have 13 inches of snow! I had to put a rain coat on Maddie for school! In NOVEMBER! AAK! I don't live in NJ anymore! Where is my snow?

And to add insult to injury, I read a stupid news article about how busy professional women choose cesareans! I wanted to gag, the actual reflex was so strong, I could not finish the article, especially the part where mr OB god states "c/s are perfectly safe, as long as you do not want more than two children" WHAT THE FREAKING FOO? Now we let OB's decide our family size? What kind of crap is that? How can you say it is safe, and wonderful and you will be just peachy after major surgery, and then say "well, actually, you are permanently damaged, and will be considered a ticking time bomb, and we will suggest surgical sterilization at the time of your repeat cesarean to prevent you from becoming a danger to yourself, your family, and my medical practice" WTFIGOH!

Why? Why do women put themselves in the hands of these people? Why are we so short sighted that we do not look past today? Sure maybe today is not a big deal, but what about tomorrow? Do you really want to allow some OB to decide how many children you can have? What happens if you want more later, but did not when you penciled your cesarean into your datebook?

I am just sick of the double message, "Cesareans are Safe, and you are considered Healthy afterwards" and then the next "VBAC's are dangerous, multiple cesareans are dangerous, after all you have a scarred uterus".

Sigh, makes me want to go put a heating pad on my Voldermort, put my feet up and say "I am getting off this train! Oh, and who said being committed to an insane asylum is that bad?"

The Scar

Somedays it feels like I live in an Edgar Allen Poe world. "NEVERMORE"

Days when Voldermort (my name for that damn scar I carry) decides to give me a zing, just to say "hey, I am still here!!! HA HA HA HA HA! Remember ME, I NEVER GO AWAY!" Sigh...

Thanks, Thanks a lot.

Days when I wish I could actually wear bikini underwear without the waist band landing right on Voldermort, and pissing him off into a rage.

Days when my granny panties roll down in a meeting and thus inevitebly piss Voldermort off, besides my best actions at silencing him I sit there suffering.

Him, why do I call my scar a HIM? I don't know, Froydian maybe?

Maybe because he that gaveth to me was a man?
The OB man that told me
"If you were my wife you would have a ..."
Oh how I longed to put the real words there instead of cesarean....
........Bladder that does not work quite right
........Numbness that never goes away, heck I probably could set it on fire!
........Weird pain forever just because, because, because
........Ugyl bikini cut 6" scar. Yeah, you CAN wear a bikini without showing your scar, (but it will be uncomfortable as hell ha ha ha)
........Scarred damaged uterus
.......Limit to the number of children you want, if you are dumb enough to have another child, we will treat you as a uterine time bomb!
......A nice pre-baby vajayjay, but the rest of your innards are so f-ed up from adhesions, you will not even think about sex again
......Apathetic people surround you. People could care less that you were just split in two, put together like a dumpling, and might not be happy about it, Smile! People will label you a wack job... Smile...
......Lobotomy. Your emotions, your life, your body mean nothing, you are just a vessel for the more important good, a child, who has more rights than you
..... An ASS HOLE for a husband!

Damn, I hate Voldermort!

Loss

Our cat Peake passed. We recieved a call that he was on his way to a routine vet visit while living with Nana and Grandpa Buster when it was noticed he was unresponsive in his cat carrier. He was already at the vets office and they tried to revive him but failed. Cause of death, heart failure.

Peake, our big-boy cat. He was always big, from the time we adopted Chessie and Peake in 1999, Peake was the big hearted, fluffy tummy boy. He took a liking to my husband and was known for stretching out on him every opportunity he had. Even when we had him on diet food, he tipped the scales at around 25 lbs. His sister not too far behind at around 18 lbs. He was only 9 years old.

He will be missed.

A Bed

Well, we did it. Finally. Madeline has a toddler bed, one of those conversion from crib to toddler. Well lets face it, the mattress is for SIDS prevention, not a good night sleep! It is like this rubber coated board! In addition, she is quite a roller, her usual sleep position consists of her feet in my belly, and head in dads belly. So in her bed, she would roll into the crib walls and wake up.

When we asked her about getting a big bed, her response was popcorn jumping and exclaiming she wanted lots and lots of sheets and blankets like mommy's bed!

Thus we went out and stimulated the economy, one purchase at a time! It was a rainy day here, and the cloud cover was so thick, it looked like dusk from 8:00am on. So headed out through the fog, and rain to one of the only local furniture places.

Madeline, of course was three, took her shoes off and had to jump on all the beds, much to my frustration and husbands challenge of trying to corral this bounding three year old. In the end, we picked out a Twin, however the sales woman told me that EEEVRYONE buys a full for their kids now. "Um, thats nice, but I plan on only stimulating the economy with a small amount, not an extra $200!".

But the place was busy, people kept on coming in, and the funny part is they were not looking at sofas, dinning room sets, but beds. The sales guy with a grin and a touch of exhaustion looks at our sales clerk and comments "holy cow, I have not been this busy in forever!"

So her big girl bed will be here on tuesday. We went to target and picked up dora, princess, and other girly bedding, although husband and Maddie tried convincing me she needed Spiderman sheets. Pink and purple will have to do!

One more minute way my baby is not quite a baby anymore.

Change

Change,

Everyone wants Change. What is change? Is it not today? Is it tomorrow? Things sure have changed since yesterday. What a vauge amorphic thought. Change.

So will my life change because the elections are over? (Thank god, thought those people would never stop calling me pitching their "guy" every night during dinner)

Well, Life went on, work went on, nothing big and earth shattering has happened, (besides my husband being let go at work, but to be fair, that was decided before November 4th).

So what change can I expect? What is there that this presedent will make my life and living situation so much better? I can't see it. But honestly I did not see a much of an improvement with the other guy.

What do we want for change? What do I expect to change? Humm, maybe not paying 22% on 100% market value assesment on my house for property taxes would be nice. Will that happen? You-betcha-your-tookass, don't see that in the change forcast! Will I pay less federal taxes? Uhm, please, don't see that happening either!

What will change? Inflation will continue, price for goods will continue to rise their ever creeping rate, slowly making that measily rase I got this year nothing more than a lunch subsidy. My house value will continue to crash, my 401K will continue to loose money (about 1/3 the value it was a year ago!). That is the change I can count on. Gee, I am feeling just peachy about change.

At Least..

A picture I love:

Acupuncture? Me?

Thought I would post about my recent foray into the world of TCM (or Traditional Chinese Medicine for those of you who are not up on it).

So here I am dealing with sub-fertility and recurrent miscarriages. (Jee, who knew that is what I would be living with... but that is a grumble for another day)

Been to see specialists of all kinds, have had all the testing known to man done (and then some experimental, or might be, maybe related in some obscure way tests). And the answer.... Drumroll here for modern science and medicine......... The big old ? Yes, there is nothing clinically wrong with me, yet I am a habitual aborter!?! WTFIRWT? If there was nothing wrong with me, I would be in happy land, with three children, a dog, a pear tree, who the hell knows, but NOT sitting across from you in this overly expensive office after just having who knows what stuffed up a place no one should go!

So what have I turned to? TCM. Call me crazy, I don't know. Maybe a pinch of desperation as time keeps marching forward, each month getting older, because you know I am just a ticking egg-ubator, roasting what I have left, exposing them to the world of toxins and bad American health each and every day!

I know, there was a time where my fear of needles and procedures had me nauseous and trying to book the next flight to some distant land. But I guess walking in, lying down, and being fillet awake, being stuffed back together like a dumpling, stapled, and sent on my merry way (oh by the way, here is a screaming, helpless infant to care for in your post surgical bliss) things changed. I survived that, and well, quite honestly my body will never be the same, so at this point, it is all down hill in self preservation land.

So now once a week I go in, take my shoes off, and lie down in the dim light on a nice toasty bed. Close my eyes and leave everything behind. My Acu guy is great. He comes in asks me how I feel (what? A health care provider who actually wants to know your symptoms?) and if you have felt better or worse since last time. Then I lie there and have needles poked into various places, including one between my eyebrows.

And ya know what, after about four visits I promptly fell asleep as my Chi decided to rewire itself. It was amazing. So will I know if it is working in the fertility area? Not yet. But overall, I sleep better, have less aches and pains, and my desire to eat anything not nailed down has decreased.

So, who knows. All I have is hope, and when that fails, I have the placebo effect!

Fall

Another beautiful fall day today. Working around the yard, cutting down this years flowers. Cleansing, like sweeping up the old, in anticipation of what next spring will bring. It is that time of year where the plant catalogs come and I sit by the fire dreaming of exotic plants, new shrubs and dog-earing the pages. The gardens are a sleeping state, waiting for the sun to warm them once more, the cool rains of spring.

I feel like that too. A calm moment with the future blown wide open. What is next? Who knows.