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Yesterday sucked.

We were busily planning for A’s family to visit so the plan was I’d take the kids to the playground while A  cleaned the house and went grocery shopping.

A couple of minutes after I left the mail arrived. Our letter carrier parked her mail truck and knocked on our door. Amy signed for a certified letter.

The letter informed us that she’d been laid off. LAID FUCKING OFF. TWO WEEKS  before school was to start. Awesome.

When I found out, I felt sick. I felt robbed, I felt helpless, I felt responsible for two children. And most of all I felt fucking pissed off that we’re going to lose our health insurance. It took me several hours to calm down.

Once calm, I started to put it all into perspective. Recently a good friend tragically lost her sister. Two weeks ago another friend lost her newborn to SIDS. Another friend is facing the mortality of her six week old son. All we’ve lost is a job, income, and health insurance.  That’s all. And really it isn’t much when I think about what other friends are losing.


Yesterday I had my birth plan appointment with my midwife. This is standard procedure for her at all 36 week appointments. A came with me and we didn’t have childcare for Mr. E, so he was in tow as well (always fun…). It was an unusually busy day there, so we had to wait a little while – but not too bad. When Mr. E comes with me, we’ve learned to check my blood pressure at the end, so A can take him out of the room, otherwise hysterics ensue.

In this vain, we went ahead and did the birth plan before my midwife did the regular check up stuff. We talk about atmosphere, who will be attending the birth, positions I want to labor in, our expectations immediately following the birth (i.e. skin to skin, letting the cord pulsate till it stops, refusal of interventions, etc.). I was in a dreamy place as I envisioned birthing again– the only part of pregnancy I like. Seriously, some days when it’s really awful, I think about how amazingly empowering it is to give birth and how much I am looking forward to it.

When we were done talking A took Mr. E out while my BP was checked, all fine. They came back in to hear the baby’s heart, which has become something he really likes to witness. And then the midwife was feeling for baby’s positioning. She was head down at my last appointment – 34 weeks. I asked is she could tell how far down the head was and that is when she began to think the baby had changed positions.

It was about 4:15 and the ultra sound tech, who  is only in office on Wednesdays, was wrapping up with her final patient. So we were rushed back into the waiting room to wait for her. But not before being told one of the back up Obs is really wonderful at performing external versions and that I’d have one next week if baby was not head down.

A very quick ultra sound confirmed that baby is transverse. This is better than being breach, she is closer to getting into position, but we are running out of time. I will be 37 weeks on Sunday. My midwife has always told me she like to see babies head down by 36 weeks- 37 at the latest, so that they can be helped into position, if they haven’t done it themselves. And, let’s not forget my water broke at 37 weeks last time, which has created a certain amount of anxiety for me about going early again this time.

Once home I began reading about external versions and it does not sound pleasant. There are some risks involved, but trying every last effort to avoid a c-section is my plan. The version itself could lead to an emergency c-section, but if I end up there, then I’ll know I did everything I could.

My doula’s (and good friend) husband is a chiropractor and has been very successful at helping babies into position, so I am also going to get in to see him- hopefully tomorrow. Am also reading up on And I could use all your “get the eff head down baby” thoughts that you send my way.

Wouldn’t a c-section just be the cherry on top of this horrible pregnancy?

Today was the day we were supposed to meet The New Midwife.

Eight weeks ago I scheduled an appointment and arranged childcare so that A could come with me. As we were driving to Maine last Friday I received a phone call from the TNM’s office informing me they needed to reschedule…EIGHT freaking weeks ago…and just like that – nope, sorry you don’t get to come in! If she were not the most reputable midwife in this area, I swear I’d been looking for a new one… My appointment is rescheduled and *I’ll meet her in FOUR weeks.

(*A will have to stay home to watch E.)

Up until the phone call on Friday we were still on the fence about involving TNM to get pregnant and I wasn’t making a solid TTC plan until we met her, and figured out how the logistics would play out if we used her to TTC.  But now we’ve pretty much decided to use our old midwife, which will be  a logistical nightmare and involve lots of travel for inseminations. But at the same time, I will have all my care under one person, where as with TNM there would be lots of people involved. Mr. E and I will crash with friends where we use to live for a night or two every cycle. And this is where I start to stress…

I don’t really want to deal with friends knowing that we are TTC. It just adds a layer of stress. And I am not so sure I really want to call up an old friend once a month and say “hey can my baby and I stay with you tonight? I’m ovulating.” I am sad that A will not be by my side, as she was for every insemination and prenatal appointment.  I also don’t really love staying in hotels with a baby. Baby bedtime = lights out.

I am trying to be so zen about the whole process. I have made a pact with myself not to become the crazy, TTC, loony woman — that I once was. I’ve told myself that I will not go to the same lengths to get pregnant that I did with Mr. E. I am *TRYING* to be satisfied with the blessing that I already have.

It’s not easy.

I am starting to get frustrated with the process. I am resentful, YET AGAIN, that the act of becoming pregnant involves other people. I am stressed about the details. We have no more than five shots with Mr. E’s donor (less if we do more than one insemination per cycle). I am trying to think of the travel inseminations as temporary. I’ll do it so long as we have sperm in storage in our old town. Then reassess, if needed.

I want so much to be prenant again. To have one more child. To give Mr. E a sibling. I WANT IT SO BADLY. And some days, I just don’t think I am strong enough to do it.

I was standing at the check out counter and Mr. E was sitting in the grocery cart. I could hear the person working on the next register over and a customer comment on how cute Mr. E is. Then the register worker said:

You can never tell these days if it’s a boy or a girl.

And the customer responded:

Oh I know, isn’t it such a shame!

WTF?! First of all i was RIGHT THERE! Second of all, while his outfit could be consdiered gender neutral, it was leaning towards ‘boy’ (only because finding truely gender neutral clothes for everyday of the week is damn near impossible). But since his outfit was not 100% blue, they were bothered. Some people really irk me.

Most days I really am glad we left the ‘two mom capital of Massachusetts’ to be with family. The joy on Mr. E’s face when he sees his cousins everyday is proof that we made the right choice. And I have met some cool moms here, most of whom didn’t bat eye when I told them Mr. E has two moms. I even have one mom friend who is as enthusiastic about breastfeeding as I am, which is pretty rare here. But you know, we all bring different things to this world and I know A and I do things opposite of mainstream, and I am okay with that. We do what works for us and others do what works for them, and we can still be friends.


But I can NOT stand it when people go out of their way to tell me they are “cool with that stuff.” Meaning queer folks in general. If you feel like you need to tell me that you are “cool” with my family, fine. I don’t really see the point and quite honestly, find it somewhat offensive, but once you’ve said it, don’t repeat yourself over and over. And don’t remain so shocked at learning that I am a queer mom that you forgot the answer to the question you just asked me, and therefore asked the same question again. And don’t assume my son was adopted. And don’t ask me how I conceived either. Ok? Cause these are all pretty personal questions, and they are all answers that I will likely share with you, once I’ve come to know you and feel ready to open up.


Remember this post?

Well it turns out she also has a Live Journal login – not a journal that she write in (at least not that I know of) but she has a log in and she leaves comments!

My computer was in my bedroom and my nephew was napping in the crib in there so I couldn’t get my computer, but I needed to look up a recipe on-line so I used her computer. And it was open. To the journal she reads and comments on. OMG. I didn’t read it (too much) and from what I saw it looks like it’s one of her client’s.

Seriously, I am not ready for my mother to be this techy!

My mother is a hip grandmother. She’s always been “young” – she’s a kid at heart. She works mostly with teenagers and knows more about sex, drugs, and rock and roll than I do (and the drugs are starting to scare me – not her using, the kids around here).  She’s in touch with all the latest and greatest, much in part to the kids and teens she works with.

She also goes through obsessive phases. She drives a red VW beetle. So she needed a red razor phone (when they were new), and a red iPod. Well I made the mistake of giving A a red iPod for Christmas last year. And my dad did not give my mother one. He made up for it two months later on her birthday. She got her red iPod and a Bose dock. She dose everything with her iPod. Exercises, weeds in the yard, all yard work really. She loves it. And she loves loves loves the iTunes store. She also uses it to show off her grand kids. She makes albums in her iPhoto (on her MacBook), uploads them to her iPod and is out the door to meet her high school friends – ready to show off the latest pictures.

So far, so good. But, she has crossed into one of my internet haunts, Facebook. Several months back, A and I made a private blog for family to see pictures of Mr. E. We had constant requests from people for new pictures and since we’ve been blogging for a while we knew it would be easier to update a blog than to send emails with pictures. We invited my mother to view the blog.

Next thing I know she says to me, ok my Facebook account is set up so now I should be able to view the blog. Both A and I turned and said, what? She’d heard us talking about Facebook, and some how got it in her head that in order to log into the blog, she needed a Facebook account… So yeah, now my mom hangs out on Facebook, and has even “friended” some of my friends (people I went to high school with and she knows really really well).

I’ve been circling the internet in many ways for many years, and never had to think, oh my mom may read this. Not that I have things to hide, but you know, it makes me think twice before I set me “status” on Facebook now. It’s weird. Very very weird.

Even though I am out of the working madness world I still get excited about Fridays. It’s exciting because everyone is home on the weekends and that means I have help. (Well, theoretically at least). But lately, as Fridays approach and our family lets loose, I’ve started to feel frustrated. I want a day off! How amazing would it be to to just have one day off? I’d settle for an afternoon. How nice would it be to have a change of pace? Maybe I’d finally get my hair cut (it’s been six months). Or I’d do any number of the zillions of things on the “to do” list.

It’s hard to be at Mr. E’s beck and call 24 freaking hours a day seven days a week. A works long hours, and we only enjoy one day together every week; and I work a full day on her other day off. Our close proximity to family, (yes, it comes with trade offs, I know) nets babysitting requests. And they are coming more and more. I watch our two nephews one half day a week in exchange for one half day of care for Mr. E. In addition to my half day this week I had older nephew for about three hours today and have younger (who’s sick at the moment) nephew for about three hours tomorrow. I love our nephews, but it’s really hard to juggle three kids and I plain do not enjoy having Mr. E and younger nephew at the same time (they are 5 months apart). It’s too much work.

I know we chose to have a baby and tried really hard to get him. So don’t tell me I got what I wished for. I did, and am thankful everyday for our son. But that does not mean that I can’t get cranky when I feel every ounce of energy sucked out of me, and yearn for just a little alone time. It’s true what they say about babies changing everything. But until you’ve lived it, you just can’t comprehend just how much things change. I will never ever be first again. It’s all about his needs now.

A and I talk about this all the time – you have to or else you’d go nuts with the personal space/time deficit. I’ve begun dreaming of taking a weekend away. With A. Leaving Mr. E behind. It will be a while before it happens, but when it does, it will be amazing, and full of room-service, and champagne. As soon as the boy is off the breast and sleeping through the night, we need to plan a trip. Seriously, I need a a day off, or maybe even two.

Please, please, PLEASE stop being so effed up! I am sick of logging in and finding bloggers’ old posts highlighted as if there are new. I just logged in and you are telling me I have 1952 new feeds to read. My life is busy so I can only keep up with the 51 blogs that I regularly read by using you, so please, get your act together and stop refreshing old posts. Ok?



Several weeks ago I realized I was struggling to put my socks on. Now, I have to sit down (on a chair – never the floor I wouldn’t be able to get up!), grab my ankle and pull my foot up onto my opposite leg in order to put a sock on my foot.

As I waddled up the stairs last night A. started laughing at me.

So, pretty much I am undeniably preggo at this point.

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