Day 2: Something you love about yourself

So, I promised I would do the 30 days of truth. I didn't necessarily promise I would do 30 CONSECUTIVE days of truth... but as I sit, feeding my son and typing with one hand, I feel like I deserve a bit of slack.

Alright, well, something I love about myself.... it's so easy to pick out my faults, what I don't like about myself, but to think about what I do like is a bit harder.

I suppose physically I would have to say that I love my eyes. Something about them just seems to pierce right through photographs. I guess it's my ability to "smize" as Tyra Banks puts it on America's Next Top Model. I can smile with my eyes. No matter how much weight I gain I can always feel beautiful because of that.

Day 1: Something you hate about yourself

So, I know I promised I would start the 30 days of truth probably close to a week ago. This is my life. And so, a week later, I finally begin..... which brings me to the truth for day 1: What is something you hate about yourself?

I could easily talk about my procrastination. It's no secret though, and would almost be a cop-out. Therefor I will talk about something else that many of you may not know about.

One of my biggest strengths is actually one of my greatest weaknesses - the ability to psychoanalyze people.

I'm great at reading people, at understanding why they do or think things. I could easily tell you what part of your past makes you act or feel a certain way. Now, you may be wondering why this might be a bad thing. After all, this trait is perfect for my goal career.

The problem is I can't turn it off.

I can't stop thinking logically.

I can't EMOTIONALLY relate to people.

I'm a great psychologist. Not such a good friend or wife.

Every time someone has a problem I want to play psychologist. I want to point out other peoples' point of view. I want to point out the faults in their thinking. I want to psychoanalyze the situation.

That's not what people want.

My husband has said how much he hates it, how he hates that I know what he's thinking before he does. He hates when I point out that he has no reason to be mad about certain things, when I defend the people or situations he is mad about.

And I hate that I can't just sit down and comfort him in the way he wants.

Good bye are not the words I want to hear from you

I felt the need to post this.

As I look at this picture, and the others I have like it I realize...this is my life. I don't think civilians can truly comprehend the emotion behind these moments. I didn't cry this day. Or the day after. I had to stay strong, for my son, and for my husband. I had to show him I would be OK without him, had to show him he didn't need to worry about me, had to show him I could manage it all on my own.... even if I knew there would be days that I couldn't.

And there are.

There are days when I break down, days when I question if I can truly manage to raise our son by myself, all while cooking and cleaning and sneaking in a quick shower while he sleeps. There are days when I wonder if he'll be the same when he gets back, if he'll still love me, if he'll be filled with anger and rage, if he'll be able to handle the things he's seen and done. And then there are days I wonder IF he'll come back at all....

When you hear of the casualties over there so many things go through your mind. Sadness, whether you knew them or not, because regardless of who they were a life was taken. Sympathy, for the family and friends, because you can't even fathom if that had been your loved one. Relief, that at least it wasn't your husband. Guilt, for feeling relief. And fear, because you are reminded that the danger exists.

Sometimes it's easy when they're gone - you don't have to worry about them spending ridiculous amounts of money on games, or movies, or fast food, or [insert vice here]. It's less food you have to cook. One less person you have to clean up after.

But it's one less person to cuddle with. One less person to talk to. One less person to share your bed. One less person to kiss you goodnight.

I'd rather have my one here with me.

Welcome back?

I FINALLY have enough time to post. I'm currently at Mrs. R's house, my baby is getting plenty of attention, and I am getting a much needed break. I can't believe my baby is already 3 months old now! He has changed so much in these last few months.
But now it's time to get him ready for bed, and then Wii and wine.

And starting tomorrow....the 30 days of truth.
Let's see if I can keep up.

I know I've been MIA lately. The last 4 weeks have been hectic, and amazingly wonderful. I had blogs planned out in my head, all the words eloquently arranged to discuss recent events, tons of thoughts and emotions laid out, but those words and ideas went out the window along with the possibility of a full night's sleep.
You see, I'm officially a mommy now.
William Mason was born August 31, 2010 at 4:47 AM.
He came a little more than 2 weeks early, which, for the record, I had been telling people would happen since the beginning of my pregnancy. He's such a tiny thing. Even now, at almost 4 weeks old his newborn clothes are still baggy. It's amazing to think that in a few months he'll probably still be smaller than my friends' babies when they were born.
I have a million things I could say about how wonderful the experience has been, but as I sit here on the computer my son demands to be fed for the millionth time today and I struggle to keep my eyes open.

Such is the life of motherhood

Getting Closer

I'm so awful about updating this sometimes. Wednesday I finally met with the new midwife at the civilian hospital. She asked if I wanted her to check my cervix while I was there, and I thought, "Sure, why not? I'm already here."

So she does.

I'm 3 cm dilated and 90% effaced with the baby's head already pretty low in my pelvis. She seemed almost shocked that I was not waddling like crazy and had managed to get so far without really noticing it. I mean, I had felt him drop, but I would have never guessed I had progressed that far. She rushed me into filling out all the necessary paperwork for registration and delivery, saying I could basically deliver any day now.

I'm honestly worried I'm going to go into labor and not realize it. My dear friends Heather Lynn and Mrs. R. have to laugh as I sit there, calmly prodding my stomach, proclaiming, "Oh, I think I might be having a contraction." I honestly can't even tell I'm having a contraction unless I physically feel my stomach to see if my uterus is hard. How am I suppose to time these things if I can't even tell I'm having them?

As my doula put it, they may not be painful but apparently they're doing something, otherwise his head wouldn't be so low and I wouldn't be so dilated already.

I'm beginning to think I might have this baby in my sleep.

Labor Checklist

The most common signs that labor may soon begin include:

• The baby "drops" or engages into the pelvis, which is called lightening. Lightening may occur two to four weeks prior to labor in first-time mothers and often not until labor begins if you have previously had children. - this happened just a few days ago
• Your abdomen usually appears lower and more protruding. - check
• You may experience a greater ease in breathing, relief from heartburn and an ability to eat larger portions. - check
• However, the lower position of the baby together with its greater size, can lead to:
  • Increased backache and sacroiliac discomfort - check
  • Increased awkwardness in walking - check
  • Increased frequency of urination - check
• Frequent bowel movements may be experienced within 48 hours of labor, cleansing the lower bowel in preparation for birth. - this started a few days ago as well, right around the time I felt the baby drop
• Diarrhea or flu like symptoms without fever. Indigestion, nausea, or vomiting are common a day or so before labor begins. - woke up at 2:30 this morning with severe nausea. Haven't vomited yet, but it's certainly uncomfortable...
• Increased vaginal discharge during the last few weeks of pregnancy as the body prepares for the passage of the baby through the birth canal. - hard to say. I've had this most of my pregnancy
• Increased Braxton-Hicks contractions during the last weeks of pregnancy, which are "practice" contractions that prepare the uterus for labor and may cause some effacement and dilation (thinning and opening) of the cervix. These contractions do not ordinarily cause pain but may be sufficiently strong and regular to be confused with true labor. This is referred to as false labor. - again, hard to say. I've barely noticed any of my braxton hicks contractions. Certainly no REAL contractions yet
• Possible "bloody show" or the release of slightly brown, pink or blood-tinged mucus from effacement and dilation (the thinning and opening) of the cervix, causing the mucus plug to be released from the cervix. - No
• Some women notice a sudden burst of energy, sometimes called a "nesting instinct" approximately 24-48 hours before the start of labor. You may feel a strong desire to clean the house and prepare for the baby. Try not to tire yourself as nature gives you this extra energy to help you during labor. If you must be active, be careful not to overexert yourself! - Maybe? I spent about a week feeling sick as a dog and just recently gained my energy back and have been interested in finishing up the nursery and everything
• A loss or leveling off in weight may be noticed in the last few days before labor begins. It is common to lose 1-3 pounds of fluid before labor begins as a result of hormonal shifts. - No idea
• Mother just feels "different," not quite herself. - Again, maybe. I spent yesterday feeling kind of dizzy and lightheaded and have in the past few days felt "different," though not necessarily in a bad way
• The bag of water may break. Depending on the location of the break in the amniotic sac, the break can feel like a gush, or an uncontrolled trickle of fluid coming from the vagina. - No

So, in case you didn't get my color organization, purple are positive notes - things that have happened or most likely happened already. Green means it has NOT happened, or I have not noticed it happen.

I clearly have many things checked off from this checklist, but have not started any of the major signs of labor such as loss of mucus plug, bloody show, water breaking, and of course, contractions.

Maybe I'm just paranoid.

But if not, I'd like to point out that I saw this coming, despite all the people who insisted I wouldn't go into labor early

As a note

I think the baby dropped today.

He has been spending a lot of time in my ribs lately, making it uncomfortable to sit while even slightly slouching, and extremely uncomfortable to bend over. Last night I woke up in the middle of the night with some pain in my pelvis, but it was mild and went away pretty quickly. This afternoon I noticed that the baby felt lower - less in my ribs, and there was an increased pressure in my pelvis.

I know the baby can drop sometimes weeks before the baby arrives, but it can also happen right beforehand. I'm hoping this is not a sign of impending labor, because, well, I'm not ready... for several reasons.

A. My insurance doesn't switch over until Saturday, which means anytime before then and I have to go to the military hospital

B. Assuming it happens after my insurance switches over, I still don't see my new doctor for another week. I could deliver at the civilian hospital but would still be seen by a doctor who has never met me

C. My husband is not home yet. This is actually a two-fold issue. 1) If I go into labor before he's scheduled to get back he won't make it home until after the baby is born, and I really want him here for the labor. 2) (the more selfish reason) If he comes home before 30 days we don't get separation pay. I mean, heck, if he's going to be gone for weeks anyway he might as well stay the few extra days so we can get $250.

D. There's still so much stuff to do with the nursery!

I think the realization of how soon all this could happen has just hit me. It's kind of a scary thought....

35 weeks and I think I can whine

I'm actually really surprised I made it this far without any serious discomforts, but for some reason I was hoping this last month would be a little easier. Maybe it's because I thought I would actually be going into labor pretty soon and I wouldn't have the chance to get all big and uncomfortable like most women. I was born 5 1/2 weeks early. Why not my son?

What was I thinking? With my luck he'll be stubborn like his father and refuse to come out at all.

But the amount of time in utero is not what I'm concerned about (at least right now).

These last few days have become increasingly more uncomfortable. Heartburn started a few weeks ago and has been off and on in terms of intensity. One day it will be mild and slightly uncomfortable, and the next it will be so bad I'll be praying that I vomit in the hopes that I can empty my stomach and use baking soda to kill the burn. Seriously, I would rather spend half an hour puking than half an hour with this heartburn. Still, as annoying and uncomfortable as it is, I've somehow been managing to deal with it.

Sleep is another matter. I can barely sleep at night - partly probably because my husband is at training, but mostly because I just can't get comfortable. Period. If it's not the heartburn keeping me from laying flat, it's the pain in my hips, or the pressure on my stomach, or the uterine contractions that will wake me in the middle of the night. And don't forget the trips to the bathroom.

And for whatever reason I can never stay in bed past around 7:30 - no matter what time I finally fall asleep or how much I toss and turn all night. I'm left tired almost all day, constantly keeping myself from downing coffee or forcing myself into a nap - the coffee upsets my digestion and contributes to heartburn, and I can never get a productive nap anyway.

Just to add to my discomfort I had my first episode of swollen ankles the other day. It's only happened twice so far, and the swelling only lasts for a little bit, but I never realized how uncomfortable it truly is. Again, one of those symptoms I thought other women get, but surely not me. After all, I'd made it this far without it..... With the swelling of the ankles comes the general swelling of the hands and face. Nothing painful, just annoying and slightly unattractive. My face feels pudgy and my rings, which were once too big, barely come off my fingers. I've removed them so they don't get stuck or cut off my circulation, but I feel naked without my wedding band. It makes it harder psychologically that my husband is training and I feel almost like it's cheating, or that other marines may misinterpret my reason for not wearing it. It's something that's hard to explain and I feel like perhaps only another military wife would understand. I know my husband won't think anything of it - he takes his ring off during certain exercises so it doesn't get lost/ruined - but it still feels weird.

But now it's time for me to start cleaning in preparation for the doula that will be here later today. We made the decision to switch to standard so I can deliver at a civilian hospital closer to home and I'm finally feeling better about everything. At least mentally.

Between a rock and hard place

So, the husband left last night for training. It's always sucky saying good-bye, but this month will probably be the hardest out of all the training ops. This is my last month of pregnancy.

While there's a chance I could deliver exactly on time, or up to 2 weeks late, any earlier and he misses the birth. Sure, I can call Red Cross when I go into labor, they send it up the command, and within a few hours he's on a plane to come back... but the whole process will take about 12 hours at the absolute fastest, and will most likely be closer to 24 hours. Don't get me wrong. I'm glad he'll get to see our son shortly after he's born, but it's not the same as having him there for the labor - the time in my life I feel like I need him the most.

And my doula decided this morning that she wasn't comfortable with our situation.

So the one thing that I thought was going to get me through this labor with him gone, is, well, gone.

I understand where she's coming from. We were going to try to bend "the rules" of the insurance company and go to my hospital of choice instead of the military hospital 30-45 minutes away. I got the OK from Tricare to "do what I needed to do" if I thought I couldn't make it there in time, and luckily the hospital I want to deliver at is 5-10 minutes down the road.

I still have to look a little deeper into my options, but there's not much time left. I don't know if the doctors will take me this far along in the game. I only have about 2 prenatal visits left, and then the actual delivery.

We're struggling financially right now, trying to get everything we need for when the baby finally gets here, and I worry about the cost of deductibles and copays and such.... but at this point I would do almost anything to avoid birthing at Tripler.

Maybe we'll just have to be broke for a while.

If cleanliness is next to godliness I'm living with a bunch of devils

Ok, so it's a little after 10 pm - a time I'm normally in bed - everyone else is asleep (or at least in bed), and I am wide awake, my heart racing with at what this point is turning into rage.
I'm reaching my breaking point. I just can't take this house, or the people staying in it, anymore. I am sick of being the only one to put forth effort to keep this place clean and maintained, and I mean I do close to everything - picking up trash and leftover food, cleaning dishes, sweeping, mopping, wiping counters, cleaning hair out of the drain, scrubbing toilets, mowing and raking the yard, cooking breakfast, lunch, and dinner (then cleaning all the dishes afterwards), assembling furniture, hanging pictures and curtains, taking out the trash, cleaning and sorting the recycling.... anything that needs to be done I do. By myself. At 8 months pregnant. And I'm sick of it.
I'm sick of McDonald's bags on the floor and counters, half empty glasses sitting everywhere, dishes with half eaten meals on the table and counters, bags of chips or boxes of crackers left out and open.... Why can't anyone scrape their plate, or put their dishes in the dishwasher, put food away when they're done with it, or put their trash in the trashcan? And the one that gets me, that really gets me, is the empty plastic bag for the toilet paper laying on the floor next to the trash can in the bathroom. On the floor. NEXT TO THE TRASH CAN. Was whoever grabbed the last roll of toilet paper too stupid to figure out how to open the lid?? Not to mention the fact that the empty rolls never find their way into the trash can, nor the new rolls onto the dispenser - that is unless I do it.
If I was living by myself and cleaning up after myself it would be one thing, but I'm constantly picking up after everyone else. I'm sick of everyone sitting on their butts, watching me do all the work and never lifting a finger to help.
I'm half tempted to just leave and let everyone fend for themselves for a while, but I'm afraid I would come back to a health hazard. I just honestly don't know how much longer I can do all of this, physically or mentally.

All the things said and unsaid

I'm sitting downstairs during possibly the last few "cool" moments of the day. Our AC is broken and the last few days have been miserable. I was having heat flashes even before the AC broke, so having a room that's 10 degrees hotter is not my idea of fun.
My husband is upstairs sleeping, and still smells of beer from last night, which for the first time in a long time doesn't actually upset me. You see, last night we went out to play beer pong. And by "we" I mean my husband and the girl currently staying with us. I've never been a big fan of the game, even in college. Besides the fact that I'm allergic to beer and currently pregnant, the game in my opinion is actually quite disgusting. The chemistry students in our school did an analysis of the so called "rinse water" after a game and found things like urine, fecal matter, and e-coli, not to mention other organisms that I can't even pronounce or remember. Mmm, exactly what I want to put in my mouth.....
Anyway, back to my husband smelling of beer... my husband has several "types" of drunk, depending on who he's with, how much he's had, what he's drinking, and his general mood before drinking. Lately he has been a grouchy drunk, drinking alone and making caustic comments to those around him. It's a step away from his angry drunk, which thankfully I have not really seen since the first few years after his first tour to Iraq. But still, it's close, and painful to be around, to watch him turn into this grouchy, bitter old man who with a few words can stab you in the heart. You have to walk on eggshells around him because the wrong comment, the wrong look or action, can cause him to lash out and possibly storm off, secluding himself for hours and hours. This type of drunk emerges after deployments, and takes a long time to go away. Sometimes I wonder if they will ever go away....
He also has another type of drunk. Happy/stupid drunk. This is what you think of when you think of most college kids - it happens when he's in larger groups of people, encouraged to do stupid things by those around him. He's happy, energetic, the life of the party, though sometimes borderline belligerent. Usually at this stage other marines come up to me and tell my how "awesome" he is and how much they want him at their next social gathering. Of course, he rarely goes because he's inwardly anti-social and these "life of the party" moments are few and far between.
Then there's the pensive drunk. He rambles on about philosophy, and mostly history, relating it to the own wars he's seen and fought. These are the moments I learn some of the things that really happened over there, how he really feels about what he has seen/done. These are the times he is completely open and honest with me about how he feels, not only about his tours to Haiti, and Iraq, and Afghanistan, but about himself, and me, and our relationship.
Last night he was a mix between the last two types of drunk - happy and pensive.
He and the other people played several games of beer pong while I sat in the corner, playing spider solitaire and drinking coffee to stay awake. (my rant on constantly being designated driver later) I mostly ignored the goings on, but was aware enough to see people (my husband included) stripping off articles of clothing to distract the other team and fall down laughing. Yes, definitely a "life of the party" night. I have to admit that considering current company I'm surprised he didn't make any mean comments. I should also note that I am now a little more understanding of the insecurities that come from the husband of the girl who was staying with us. But that's not what this post is about.
As things began to wind down and people turned to slurring words and stumbling rather than walking the mood turned a little more somber. I walked into a discussion about the upcoming deployment, and just sat and listened as my husband explained to the girl staying with us what it was really like, and the things they had to do/not do to make it through it. It wasn't long before the girl got distracted and my husband turned to me. He practically fell into my lap, rubbing and kissing my stomach, telling our son how much he loved both of us, and how much he was going to miss us while he was gone. He opened up all the excitement he had for our son being born, how he couldn't wait to see him and hold him....and how truly terrified he was of all of it.
"How can a man so jaded from all that he has seen and done truly connect with an innocent child? What do I teach him?"
And I had no words. Nothing. I didn't tell him I thought he would be an awesome dad, not because I didn't believe it, but because I didn't know how to convince him of it. There are so many more hurdles to jump for military familes, and the truth is I don't know how we'll handle it all either. I just know we will. Somehow.

Say Goodbye

So, today I said good-bye.... to the rest of my pre-pregnancy jeans. I should be happy I made it to 30 weeks still being able to fit in some of them, but it's still a sad, sad day for me. I guess part of it is a reminder that my body will never be the same again. I look at it as a badge of pregnancy, something to be proud of.
But there's something psychologically devastating about having an entire closet of clothes that don't fit anymore, and will most likely never fit again.

I suppose it would be different if the only reason they didn't fit was because of my expanding stomach, but that's not the case. My hips and pelvis have actually settled into a wider stance - and that won't change. On one hand I'm glad it happened. It means (presumably) that I will have an easier labor since there will be more room for the baby to slide through. On the other, when my "fat pants" become my snug pants I know I need a wardrobe change.

I wish I actually like clothes shopping....

Roller-coaster

I know I've been MIA for a while. Pregnancy hormones are throwing me for a loop, or should I say several loops. There seems to be almost a weekly cycle of depression and normalcy, some days much worse than others. I've had very little energy, physically or mentally, to do much of anything lately, and blogging is one of the lowest things on my list.

I knew I was at extremely high risk for PPD, but I didn't realize symptoms would hit this early. Still, my moments of normalcy are enough to keep me off of medication, at least right now. I know I will have to start at some point in my 9th month to prepare for post-partum, but the longer I can hold off the better.

I hate feeling weak, feeling like I have little to no control over my emotions. On one hand I feel like I should logically just "snap out of it" - there's no real reason for me to be so depressed - well, with the exception of the death of my grandfather and this upcoming deployment. On the other hand I know it's not that simple. I know it's not something you can just snap out of, that hormonally I'm on the biggest roller coaster of my life. Sometimes being so psychologically in tune with yourself can drive you crazy.

I talked to the chaplain about a week ago and he was able to get my husband out of the month long boat duty they assigned him. And, while I am extremely thankful, I feel guilty at the same time. What makes ME special? What makes our situation any worse than those of all the other wives who are pregnant right now, or have young children to take care of? I find a bit of solace in the fact that there were single marines not scheduled to go who could easily take his place, and his job was to do laundry, not even training. Still, now I feel like the wife who whined to the chaplain to get her husband to stay home. And I don't like being that person. I don't like being singled out as "special" for some reason or another.


It's worth noting I suppose that despite my spirals into oblivion the pregnancy has been going very well. I got a high five (literally) from my midwife at my 29 week appointment for doing so well. BP is 96/60 (pretty normal for me pre-pregnancy), other vitals look good, baby's heartbeat is strong, and I've gained about 16-21 lbs, depending on if you count the 5 lbs of holiday weight I gained around the time of conception. I have, for the most part, kept up my walking routine, occasionally adding a 30 min session on the bikes or ellipticals at the gym 1-2 times a week.

I'm still quite small comparatively for someone who is 29 weeks, though my uterus has consistently measured about 2cm big at each visit. There was some question as to when I actually conceived because we had been trying for several months and there is a possibility that I may have had implantation bleeding. With my longer than normal cycle it would put me about 2 weeks further along than predicted. The confusing part is that in both ultrasounds the baby measured right on target for size and weight. Normally I would just accept it as whatever it was and not pay attention to the due date at all, but the husband is scheduled for training around the time the baby's due. I know it seems silly since the baby is going to come whenever he's ready, but I just like to have everything planned out.... if I need to expect him 2 weeks earlier than originally thought there are so many added logistics to take care of in terms of contacting the FRO, his command, the Red Cross, etc. And even then I just have to come to terms with the fact that the chances of him being here for the birth are practically zero. They won't start to send him home until the hospital contacts the command to let them know I'm in active labor, and then it'll take about 10 hrs for him to get to me.

All frustrations that I really don't feel like dealing with right now.

Ok, I realize that I'm pregnant, but right now I feel fat - just plain fat. I get it. My stomach is SUPPOSED to get bigger. That's not the part I'm concerned about. In fact, my stomach is actually pretty small for someone as far along as I am.

My issue is my arms, and thighs, and face. It's weird because I see pictures that I took just a week ago and I think I look gorgeous. Then, I look at pictures from today and yesterday and I think, "when did THAT happen?!"

Seriously, I look like a beached whale.

It doesn't help that lately my husband has not expressed interest in being with me, and has instead decided to point out how attractive other women are.

I don't feel attractive anymore. At all.

Anxiety Rising

I recently heard a story about a woman's experience at the hospital where I'm supposed to birth. She also was in the midwife program, but at the time of her labor there were no midwives on duty. Apparently she attempted to contact a midwife and have them come in, but they refused. The OB on duty basically told her that since there was not a midwife available to monitor her she had to remain laying in bed for the entire birth, hooked up to IV's and monitoring equipment. The pain simply from laying in the same position caused her to beg for an epidural...just 1 hour before her child was born.

To most women, this seems the norm, but I freaked. It infuriates me that the medical model of childbirth calls for procedures that are not only unnecessary, but have proven through studies to actually be harmful. I can't believe with all the research that proves that moving around results in quicker and less complicated births they would still force someone to stay in a hospital bed. I understand that a lot of women want help when it comes to dealing with pain during childbirth, and I would never try to tell someone they are bad or weak for wanting pain medication, but I have found that for me the complications and after effects in the future far outweigh the benefits at the given moment. And once you have had these medications it does become medically necessary to be monitored.

I just refuse to be hooked up to machines if I don't have to. Call me old fashioned, but women have been giving birth successfully without IV's and heart monitors for THOUSANDS of years. If a woman wasn't capable of giving birth on her own none of us would be here.

I'm furious at the situation this woman had to go through, and I'm filled to the brim with anxiety about what it will be like when I have to go in. I would rather give birth at home then be strapped to a bed with needles forced into my arm. Contractions are painful enough. Must we really add more discomforts to the mix?!

Again, I'm furious, anxious, scared, worried.... all emotions that should NOT surround the biggest miracle in my life.

Beautiful Baby Boy

We got to see our beautiful baby boy in 4D today. Of course he wasn't very cooperative - he decided to stay hidden behind the placenta for most of the session. I can tell he already has some of his daddy's facial expressions...

(I tried to add a video clip, but after an hour of waiting for it to upload I gave up)

EDIT: I finally posted the video on facebook for those who want to see it. It did take over an hour to upload, but at least it came with a progress bar to let me know something was happening.

I also figured that I should post some more information on the visit for posterity's sake. Baby William weighed 1 lb 14 oz and measured 26 weeks and 2 days old, just 1 day off from my September 16 due date.

I have to admit I was a little disappointed with the visit. Seeing as this was not deemed "medically necessary" we had to pay out of pocket roughly $100. Not a big deal if he had been more cooperative. But, of course, he takes after his father and decided to be stubborn. It didn't help that I probably didn't drink enough water beforehand so the amniotic fluid levels were a little low. I wish I could have done it over, when I had more water in my system and he was more active. I'm pretty sure he was trying to take a nap and was not particularly happy that we were disturbing him.

Still, it's a miraculous gift to see him like that, looking like a little person that could already survive outside the womb. There are still a few more weeks for that to happen without major complications, but the anticipation of getting to hold him is killing me!

Better than me

OK, so this may sound ridiculous to some, but I'm ridiculously lonely. So lonely that I am sitting on my computer, trying to hold back tears, as my husband sleeps upstairs.

I try not to let it show, try to hide how disappointed I really am sometimes. I'm tired of sitting at home alone, tired of having to constantly clean up after not only myself but my husband and his friends, tired of trying to find ways to get out of this house and not succeeding. I'm tired of seeing on facebook all the people who are having so much fun going out to dinner, or going to Luau's, or the beach, or museums, or hiking, or any number of things. And I don't know which hurts more sometimes - the fact that we are almost never invited to these things, or the fact that when I try to invite people out there is always some reason why they can't. And I'm not saying that they aren't always legitimate reasons, but the end result is always the same - me sitting at home alone. My husband is still terrified of public places, and with his sore hips and knees most physical excursions like hiking are out of the question. He rarely wants to leave the house, so on weekends it's video games all day..... and where am I? Sitting backseat.

I feel like it's always been this way. Everyone has a best friend and I'm never it. It doesn't help that my celiac disease prevents me from eating out most places or that I'm far enough along in my pregnancy that a lot of physical things are off limits. I feel like I'd just be holding people back. ::Sigh:: I feel like there's always some option that's better than me.

How do we know when the beginning starts?

It's amazing how much life can change even in the shortest periods of time. It's been nearly 2 years since my last post in this journal and I can certainly say A LOT has changed...

Looking back it's as if I was in some alternate universe, like I took a wrong exit and had to loop back around to get on my life path. That's what it feels like - some backwards journey that led me right back to where I was before, right back into his arms. The journey hasn't been easy, but at least now I feel like I'm moving forward, not sideways.

I decided to write again, partly inspired by my wonderful friend, Heather, and partly because I realized that I am moving into my third trimester and have yet to document any of my pregnancy thusfar. That's right. In the past 2 years I....

• married the love of my life, Mason Shehan
• became a marine corps wife
• moved to Hawaii
• got pregnant with a wonderful baby boy, William Mason...the fifth

So much new has happened. Is it weird to say I knew it would? Is it weird to say that 6 years ago I could have told you that one day we would be married with kids? We certainly encountered some mishaps along the way, but I knew we would get here eventually. And maybe soon we will be out of this wretched excuse for a command and in a place where we can be free from ALL of the strings holding us back.