Compression stockings, book writings, depression and other musings....

It took 18 + hours to drive from Hilton Head Island, South Carolina back home starting Friday afternoon.  We are mostly used to long car trecks- seeing as how the closest we've ever lived to family or family organized vacations was 8 hours, it's become rather a way of life.  Long car rides.  I'm certainly not saying we enjoy them, but mostly, the rewards are seeing people we enjoy being around and visiting places we enjoy.  

But this trip was very difficult.  Before the trip even began, I started spotting the night before.  Very little, very dark brown, but remember, I'm the girl who literally checks, holds her breathe, with every.single.wipe.  Until birth.  That night before we left, it took several hours for my amazing husband to calm my anxious heart and quite frankly, Jesus received more ejaculatory prayers from me than He has probably received in all my life....  "please, Jesus, Not this, Jesus, Oh Jesus..."  If you've never just sat and said His name over and over and over again, it does have a rather calming affect.  But my shaking was out of control- and my hubs was worried about me.  We wound up going, although, I'm fairly certain I should have stayed home, and I only had a few more episodes of spotting.  It was enough to make my depression go even deeper and my heart sink even farther down in this spiral of crazy chaos known as my life.  I was probably not the best person to be around this past week, which is probably why most of my husband's family either avoided me, or just didn't bother with me.  I can't explain why I have been in such a funk, other than, the fact that my hormones have been on a raging racetrack ever since I realized I was pregnant.  

Don't get me wrong- I am madly, deeply, and passionately in love with this baby- hence why I felt I would nearly die when I realized I was spotting- but it was a difficult acceptance to see that God's plan is not my plan, and I struggled with that ugly green monster terribly.  I dreaded the reactions of people. I dreaded the fact that once again, it would take two years to get my body back. I dreaded the fact that now more than ever, we need to move back south in order to afford to continue to live-considering my husband is literally kicked out of his job when this child is 11. I forced myself to think about and pile on tons of unnecessary guilt.  I prayed, talked through it, and worked out my issues- depression is something that clearly runs in my family.  I struggled with it after my first miscarriage- (that's when I realized medication can be good and it can be bad)and I developed excellent coping strategies when I felt depression coming on.   My husband can also tell when depression is coming on.  I have noticed up here, where the winter lasts a tad longer, that it's a bit more difficult to sometimes shake it, but I have adjusted. 

So it was not altogether the worst week for me, but it also was not the best week for me.  I am feeling that I'm almost to the end of the all day, all the time nausea- each day came with a slightly better feeling and now that I'm officially over 13 weeks, I think I can safely say, I feel "better" in that area.  

I realized though that despite my best effort to remain compression stocking free- I probably should have brought them because new and exciting purple and pink earth worms and road map lines emerged from my right leg.  It now looks as though I've had a slight run in with a giant purple, blue, oh and pinkish red marker.  My 5 year old is even impressed with the drawings....  (so easy to please her...)
So yesterday after spending eternity in the car I donned on the sessy beasts and set to unpack.  Now, before the stockings, I could not stand for very long without my right leg throbbing constantly and feeling as though the blood was going to burst out of three places- all around my knee cap and my inner thigh, but with the tights, I can stand probably longer than I am, but definitely long enough to accomplish ONE task!  Which is monumental.  I had gotten to where I couldn't do a thing without sitting every few minutes.  My blood pressure was also extremely low- which it's low to begin with, but I'm talking 87/52 at one point, I felt as though I had run a marathon walking from the chair to the couch.  Next door to each other.  I was feeling nauseous, and then to boot, those hemorrhoids?  God help me!!!

But through this I have rediscovered my sense of humor.  I was seriously feeling very depressed and therefore, my humor had left the building and my humor (at least to me) helps me cope tremendously.  
Today, I have decided to write a book.  It will be co-authored with another friend who is pregnant with her 9th child at 45 and I (who at a "young whipper snapper of an age at only 41!!!). It will be a book about the musings of pregnancy after 40.  I tossed around some titles I thought would be catchy- "Pregnancy during Advanced Maternal Age- you may feel you're falling apart- but you're not alone."
Or- "Pregnant and 40 something?  We promise, what won't kill you, will only make you crazy...."

I have also discussed multiple chapters including an exclusive one with details in regards to hemorrhoids.  People need a realistic viewpoint of this.  Did you know that there is virtually ZERO medication you can use on hemorhoids when pregnant?  And those little medicated pads?  They are about as worthless as tits on a boar.  (sorry, that is from my husband...) Women need to know this!  They also need to know they are NOT ALONE in this crazy anti-pregnant over 40 world!!!

So back to my book before the squirrels that are walking around in my head take over- 
One chapter will be about our bladders.  yes, a whole chapter titled, "Depends Undergarments is NOT an admittance of defeat!"   Not that in seven pregnancies I've ever used them, but the thought has occurred to me as each one of the six so far has weighed over 8 pounds and three were almost 9 pounds, so you can imagine the shape my bladder is currently in....
Another one will be about the antics of our aging spouses.  My funny, funny, husband, who seriously does understand the problems I've been having and always says things in jest *wink wink* likes to occasionally ask as I'm reclined on the sofa or in his favorite chair if he can get me anything- grapes, a massage, etc. etc.  Funny guy he is, but sometimes I sense sarcasm....   Perhaps, it will be titled, "When your silly man tries to make joke...."  Or, "Relax, he's not the only who needs a man cave to retreat to during this hormonal time...."

So that's where I am now.  Mentally I'm feeling my head is coming out of the clouds and onto more greener pastures, and emotionally I'm recovering from feeling very alone, very depressed and very blah.  I see that God gives me hope, even when I refuse to see it and want to bask in my own self pity- I see how He has wanted me to return to my silly sense of humor because quite frankly, since coming up with this geriatric pregnancy book idea, I've felt incredibly better. 

 Almost human again- and then I look at my legs and well... 

Not everyone can look this good in compression stockings and shorts and still keep a straight face.  

Announcement!

Prego announcement....

So, it's 10:30 on a Saturday night and I'm pretty sure I'm going to throw up because I've been up so darn long today (since 4AM!) and my body is screaming for me to go to sleep-but my poor sweetie had to fix our kitchen sink and he was so grouchy and I felt so bad for him that I told him we were a team and we stick together.  ( as I prod my eyelids open with toothpicks and my speech is slurred terribly because of exhaustion- we're a team, buddy- I wuv yoooooo....)  

Now, of course, when he asked me to get a rag so he could clean that absolutely disgusting green/black slime that's been collecting there for 4 years I nearly ran away screaming as I re-tasted my dinner....

But to the picture at hand- this is what I had seen a slight version of on Pinterest recently and wanted to give it a shot.  I have to admit, I wasn't expecting anything fabulous- my camera has a timer, so I knew we could "logistically" do it, but to what extent?  Would I be running and jumping over everyone 5,000 times?  How long would the almost 17 month old stand it?  

Would you believe this was the second shot we took?  And would you also believe not many people figured out the whole Confederacy 5 North 2 meme?  (seriously, we moved from the south- with 5 kids, we gave birth to 1 kid so far up here, pregnant with the other one....)  Anyway- my hubby and I probably enjoyed it way more than anyone else will get it- but that's ok. That's what makes our relationship so incredibly awesome.  He really is my best friend in the whole world.  

So we announced with this picture.  Sent it to as many family/friends back home as we could think of.  Of course, I posted it to Facebook as well.  It's funny-I had anticipated the odd comments to flood- I'm not really sure why.  It's almost as if I expected everyone to just think us fools.   Which, they may internally, but so far, the response has been way better than I expected.  Even the extremely kind gentleman at the Ford place we ordered parts for our bus from, he shook my hand yesterday and congratulated me and said how blessed we were.  It was rather amazing!  I am pretty sure there are people out there who are extremely firm in the belief that we should only be having 1 or 2 children if any children at all to save our world- but if they are out there- they're not saying anything to us.  

So, it's out there now.  For all the world to see.  I'm excited.  I think for the first time in many, many weeks, I feel better- minus the nausea-that's still going extremely strong at 11 weeks.  I am less confident this will magically disappear in two weeks-but I feel better as far as my mental status goes.  I think I had been preparing myself for such a shocking comeback that I had almost aided in making myself slightly crazy.  (ok, I already am crazy, but this is a different crazy...)

Thank you, Jesus, that You are in control.  Please help us daily, hourly, secondly, when we forget Who it is we follow.  Help us to serve You in the manner you find most pleasing, and Jesus?  Thank you for this gift of life You, have blessed us with.  We are so undeserving of your gifts and we hope we can glorify You in all that we do.  We love you, Jesus.

Blessings in the mess....

So yesterday morning I kissed my awesome husband goodbye as he went off to an undisclosed place to do some secret undisclosed work.  I love his job.  I love telling people about his job.  I love flashing his badge to people as though I AM his job as well.  But when he goes out of town, even for the smallest amount of time, (he's supposed to be back later this evening) I get crazy cranky.  I used to be far worse, and those times when he has to be gone for weeks at a time- I still get crazy cranky.  Thank goodness he never went into the military because, God bless those moms/dads who deal with spouses being gone for a year at a time.  I would be in a padded cell wearing a cozy straight jacket if he did... ;)

So he left at 7 yesterday morning and my little Kiki woke up with a mad fever shortly after.  I really didn't think anything of it at first- got her naked, trying to cool her off naturally, had my oldest feed her breakfast, which she ate most of, and I ran around dropping kids off here and there at their perspective summer activities.  I gave her a dose of Tylenol after she ate when I felt her again, and she still felt burning hot.  Kids get fevers.  I generally don't get freaked out immediately by them-it means their bodies are fighting an infection, which also means their bodies are working- so the older I've gotten, the less panicked I've also gotten-which is good because we can't afford to run to the doctor with every fever- and really, my kids are rarely sick, although this year has been a doozy as far as multiple illnesses go.

So her temp came down to 100.4 after two hours on the Tylenol, but it began to creep back up by lunch time.  I wasn't too worried- but I did notice a strange flat rash on her chest and back and thought it was not necessarily hand, foot, mouth, because that's usually on your hands/feet/mouth (duh!) but there were some smaller rash like spots on her feet and hands.  She went down for her nap by noon and I tried to call the clinic.  Of course, an immediate recording said the nurses were either at professional development or unavailable and please call back.

Ok, little word to the wise.  When you tell a mother of six children, who is pregnant with her seventh child to "call back?"  You may have just told her you'll talk to her in six months.  Cause once I hung up, lost that mental note inside the giant, vast, empty brain of mine, it was literally gone.  GONE!  Until she woke up at 3:00pm ON FIRE again.  I mean, her little body was so hot it freaked me out.  I have never witnessed a fever seizure, but that one made me panic into thinking it was coming.

It was only 103.1. (I say that because I've actually had kids have 105 temps before.)  I gave her another dose of Tylenol.  I called the nurses back, who informed me that the next available was 8:15 PM!  At least they fit her in the evening.   2 1/2 hours LATER after constant crying and moaning, I finally caved and gave her Motrin.  Please don't tell the child and human services, because I KNOW I didn't wait until the appropriate time, but I still had to wait until she was seen by the doctor and there was no consoling this child.  Literally, 20 minutes after the Motrin she calmed down.  She was actually perky and smiling and even eating a few crackers and taking a few sips of milk.

By 7:30 I decided to head over to the clinic and take my chances are getting in earlier.  We did!  The doctor was super nice, she was already getting a bit of her fever back and she suspected something other than just a fever thing as well with the rash on her feet and hands and when she looked in her poor mouth, it was full of blisters.  Yep.  Hand, foot, mouth disease, which is apparently really, REALLY bad this year.  "These are painful blisters," she said.  It's what causes them to not eat/drink.  GREAT.  So as in good mom fashion, I brought her home, tried to give her more drink, Popsicle, anything, but she wouldn't touch it.  She was past the point of happy, and we still had SEVERAL hours before her next dose of Motrin could be administered and I had already given her Tylenol several times that day, so.....  My plan was to set the alarm for midnite and check her temp.

I went to bed after checking her and thought, she didn't seem too hot, I'll just check her when I wake up for one of my MILLION bathroom treks.  That didn't happen until 1:30AM and when I went in there, she was a flaming ball of fire.  And she only had a onesie on, so she was as cool as she could be-but that fever was raging.  AND she was awake.  Just sucking the life out of her pacifier like it was her lifeline.  I felt horrible.  I ran downstairs and grabbed the Motrin and proceeded to give her the dose and then make 20 trips back and forth from the bathroom to her room filling the dropper with water as that was the only way she would drink.  I'll take anything at this point.  She cooled off, even though it took a while for her to settle down, and is actually still sleeping now.

Meanwhile, my kids went on a bleach cleaning spree last night.  Little do they realize they may have been the carrier for this-my 14 year old did all kinds of research and freaked the rest of us out by telling us you can actually carry the virus even AFTER you're physically better for WEEKS!  AND SPREAD IT!!!!  Guess I won't be going out until after school starts.

One silver lining in all of this I could find, because I am actually trying to find the good in the things that bring me down and once the sun came up this morning, I could see a little more clearly, is that God's hand was once again, in all of this.  First of all, they were calling for horrible storms all day yesterday.  We didn't go to the library because we didn't want to get stuck in one, and there were some good rain dumpers during the day, but then it looked like there were going to be some really bad ones-that had slight risks for tornadoes.  I was really nervous about the thought of one, leaving my kids during a storm, and two, driving and getting out during a storm!  (seriously, after going through several tornadoes in my short life span in Arkansas, you don't go ANYWHERE but the inside of your house when those threats come!)  But God once again showed His hand and I SAW it!  It rained pretty good and was crazy windy, and the weather channel was showing severe storms, etc, lots of warnings, but all of the sudden, the rain stopped, it cleared up, and the sun came out!  It  turned out to be a really beautiful evening!  At least where I live.  There were some deadly storms in NY and PA and several people lost their lives, God rest their souls.

I couldn't believe how perfect the evening went, looking back.  Of course, by the time I got home, crawled into bed and laid there thinking of the day, I felt defeated.  It's amazing how much more clear things become in the morning.  Thankfully!  I am blessed.  Probably more than I deserve, and I am grateful.

Mental melt down and other crazy stuff...

Last night I think the last almost 10 weeks finally caught up to me.  All my worries, fears, anxiety issues, health issues all decided in one fell swoop to completely melt down together.  I mean, literally, I became a big ball of tears and cried like a baby to the most awesome, gorgeous, husband I could ever be blessed with.  It seems, according to my amazing husband, that I've been extremely tense the last 5 weeks (that would be about the time I realized I might be going through menopause (aka potential pregnancy).  I think it was providential this message came to me when it did.

God made that amazing man just for me.  I know He has molded our relationship together and knitted it so strongly against the forces of evil that I have no doubt this man will love me until the day he dies.

He's been a trooper through my mental issues lately but it's been getting worse- for multiple reasons.  The nausea, the bloated 5 month looking belly I have, the lack of certain little humans who live in this house with us who never help me pick up or put up things, the thought of other people finding out we're pregnant, losing this baby, you name it, my worries were stacking up.  Big time.  No faith here.  Totally forgetting about God and all He has done for me and completely just trusting in myself.  That always works.  You'd think I'd remember that it.really.doesn't.

Well, last night, we came to a massive blow up.  No yelling and screaming, but he was very truthful to me about what my crazy was doing to the rest of the family, most especially him.  I was making him get upset.  He doesn't like to get upset and especially doesn't like to get upset with me.  I was at a breaking point myself and finally, when he voiced his concerns for me, our relationship, our family, I lost it!  I'm guessing it was 10 weeks of tears falling over every little concern, fear, anxiety I've felt this entire time.  He told me how much he loved me and how I was his best friend in the whole world and how I needed some girlfriend time desperately.  (he's right- I've not seen my friends in weeks).

But what most of all came from the meltdown was the fact I was able to put into words all my fears and say them out loud.  Sometimes I think holding my fears, concerns, thoughts inside can begin to weigh me down and drag me to a point of no return.  I was definitely on that path.

I cried the hardest when I admitted how pathetic I felt about worrying what others will say about us.  The worst thing I worry about is what others will think.  As though the hateful, misguided, totally unfiltered words of others determine who I am.  He said, "Who cares?"  I really think it was a pivotal moment for me.  Why do I care what others will say?  Why does it bother me that people will say anything at all?  Good grief- people have been saying cruel (and at times extremely cruel things) since we started this journey.  Why would finding out we're having another baby now make it any different?

Not a thing.

People are going to talk.  They're going to laugh.  Shoot, they're going to condemn.  (already been there done that one a few babies ago, so really shouldn't be too surprised when it does come).

But I guess I've always been someone who wears their heart on their sleeve.  I don't like to be made fun of and I certainly don't like knowing people are going to talk, and probably behind my back as they shake their heads in dismay and speak about how sad it is I've let myself get pregnant and what is our Earth to do with all the already unwanted children, and how can we keep feeding people who are starving when people like me keep reproducing, and what about that huge carbon print I'm leaving that will continue the global warming, or cooling, or climate change, or whatever trendy word they come up with next because they can't really explain how that hole in the ozone hasn't changed, and oops, might have always been there comments.....

It makes my heart hurt thinking I'm causing scandal.  I don't want to be the reason people gossip.  Gossip is sin.  Talking about others in an unkind manner and saying things about a person you could never say to their face is extremely wrong.  I am guilty of it myself, so the fact that I'm now a cause of it, hurts my heart.  I don't want others to be negative.  I don't know why people feel it's their duty to explain things to me and tell me how they could never have more than two children, as though it would be impossible for anyone ELSE in this world to have more than two children.  I sometimes forget the whole "fool for Christ" thing and I let things get to me and I get upset.

I have to let these things go.  And remind myself of what is most important.

There's a little human person growing inside of me who is over one inch long and growing and changing so rapidly now that I can't wait to meet.  That is what is important.

The people who say the ugly things (like my eye doctor who said, "Can I give you some advice?  Keep your legs together?" I imagine he's never been sued before, or he might learn some socially acceptable behavior...) are really not important.  The people who stare and laugh and make jokes about how we haven't figured out what causes this?  Are not important.  The people who make themselves feel better for whatever reason by poking fun at us?  Are not important.

What is important?
This little peanut, silently growing, heartbeat strong, causing my body to morph and change (yes, compression stockings, sea bands, early maternity wearing me) as he/she is knitted in my womb.

The only person I need to be worried about is a Divine God of the Universe.  Who knit me in my mother's womb and is now working on me as a potter does with clay.  Forming me into the person He created me to be.  Praising and rejoicing at my willingness to be a fool for Him.  Surrounding me with good and holy people that make me want to be a good and holy person.  Giving me the words of Eternal life and the Bread of Eternal Life.

That's what is important.

I came across this blog this morning as I perused my facebook page when it was super quiet and no one was up.  This mom is here in WNY and quite frankly, is one of the most hilarious bloggers in the world.  I laugh almost every time I read her, except when she's saying serious stuff, but even then I laugh because she manages to put such a funny spin on things- she's very inspiring and makes me feel as though I'm not alone in this massive world where people who worship an invisible God and believe He created this incredible Universe are not deemed as crazy.  Anyway, her post today made me smile and I know it was a grace to stumble upon it today after all my mental mess last night....
Enjoy.
Mama Knows Honey Child

Sea Bands and other nonsensical nonsense....

A Sea Band...

Has anyone ever seen one of those lovelies I'm sporting above?  I'm betting some of you have.  It's called a Sea Band and I'm actually sporting one on BOTH wrists.  It is supposed to press (with this little white ball) on your wrist (three fingers below the bend) on a pressure point that is supposed to help with nausea.  I must say- I felt AWFUL this morning and when I got home from the store- I put them both on (it actually says to wear both for optimal benefit) and slowly but surely I've felt decent.  I still feel queasy- but nothing, and I mean, NOTHING like I felt.  The last three days have seen my nausea take a turn for the worse, and nothing I did made it any better.  Consuming more protein, eating smaller meals, snacking frequently, eating ginger snaps (they are really quite disgusting when you buy the all natural ones without any extra CRAP in them...), nothing I did made it ok except, lying horizontally.   Again, with six children all needing something, it was next to impossible to lie horizontally all the time.  I did manage to do it quite a bit, because not only am I sporting these beasts, but pretty soon, I'll be forced to wear the thigh high, open toed compression stockings....  I will be a sight to behold.  How my husband will control himself around me, well, it's not a PG-13 thought, so I'll stop there.... ;)

So onto the other nonsense I've been battling in my brain lately.  Loneliness.  Serious loneliness.  I'm talking about a loneliness that is driving me to want to move away.  I feel like I have no friends and the more pregnant I get, the more I feel like hiding in my house under my rock.  The safe haven of my home where no one will judge me.  I know it sounds ridiculous, but my pregnancy hormones are just about that.  Ridiculous.  I convinced myself this morning that all my friends (all three of them) are going about with their lives and could gives a rats pooey about me and my pathetic sea band, compression totin self over here lying on my couch having one fab-u-lous pity party...

I can cure my loneliness by inviting myself over to anyone's house, but the way I've felt lately, I would rather just hide in my house and feel disgusting than put on a happy, I'm feeling fine face.  I am in no mood for that face at this time... ;)

But it's something I struggle with.  Loneliness.  And that has led to some serious thought about not homeschooling my now, 6th grader this fall.  I know it's what is best for her, but my sanity and depression issues, are kind of trumping that and it makes me feel worse.  Will I be able to teach her what she needs to know a whole ENTIRE school year?  Not just half a semester?  I've inquired about re-registering her for the fall at her school.  I'm not sure what I'm going to do.  I am in no way in any condition to make decisions at this point, but I do realize I need to.  I also need to make sure I'm really ready to move because once an opening happens and we refuse, we are on probation for two years and could potentially miss the opportunity to move back south during that probation time.  It's very hard and there's no "right or wrong" answer here.  I of course, haven't been praying enough about it.  Just having my pity parties.  Which I've almost perfected...

This is going to be short because one of the worst things is a Debbie Downer and I deal with Debbie Downers a lot, so before I join them, I'm ending this blog quickly.  Hopefully, with this nausea calming down to a point, I can once again join the realms of humanity and perhaps when I enter the second trimester (in just two in half short weeks!) I can make a rational decision....hopefully.... :)