Tumor Baby!

Being a mother is nothing like I thought it would be. It's the most special, hard, exciting, nerve wracking, insane thing. So may feelings all at once. All of the feels.

My whole labor and delivery process was nothing like I thought it would be, either. It was painful and unexpected and excruciating and hard as hell. But none of that matters, look at what I've brought into this world. The most perfect baby girl I could have ever imagined.

Shes so special, even now at 11 weeks old. Her personality is so fun, sweet, loving and hilarious. She hardly ever cries and she is such a joy.

I could go on and on about my daughter, but I won't. At least not in this particular blog post.

I think I should talk about my labor and delivery.

Me and Tim went in to the hospital around 5 pm on Wednesday, May 25th. I got set up immediately with a room and cervidil. they gave me an ambien to help with sleep. Which didn't help with sleep. If anything it kept me up, made me cry, and gave me the single worst headache I've ever had. I wouldn't have been able to sleep anyway, with all nurses coming in, drawing blood, checking my blood sugar, waking me up constantly.

Fast forward to Thursday morning. They started me on pitocin around 830 am. Killer shit, that shit. Just plain painful. Fake contractions are shitty. Real contractions are probably worse, but I only got the fake ones and they sucked ass. All day long I was on pitocin, then that night they gave me another cervidil, I had made no change, besides my cervix softening a tiny bit. I was still only 1 centimeter dilated.

Friday morning they took out my cervidil, checked my cervix, and there was still no change. So then they decided to insert a Foley bag, to mechanically dilate me. That thing has emerged from the pits of hell to terrify and inflict pain on all pregnant women who use them. The whole ordeal lasted probably a half an hour.

For those of you who don't know, cervidil causes extreme discomfort and ultra sensitivity. So this was fucked up.

The resident who was doing the procedure had extremely tiny fingers, and shaky hands that really seemed as though they had not a clue as to what they were doing. He tried 4 times with 4 different speculums to insert this thing into my cervix. Leaving the room halfway through to go find different speculums. He was extremely unprepared and kept walking to the other side of the room for equipment that wasn't readily available to him, that he needed. Every time he walked away and came back, he needed to clean my cervix again. That prick probably cleaned my cervix 7 times, no joke. that was the worst part, when he cleaned my cervix. I still have nightmares about the pain, the feeling. I think about it and my skin crawls and I get nauseous... I doubt that will ever go away. I was crying and it took all I had in me to not jump off the table, to not writhe in pain. He kept asking if I wanted him to stop, but like he was angry with me. I finally told him to either stop or shut up and finish his damn job. Sitting there with my legs in the stirrups with metal shit hanging out of my baby cannon, bleeding like he just knifed me 64 times. Such epic bullshit, not to mention humiliating as shit.

It's totally amazing all the shit we as women go through to reproduce. In the moment, in the midst of all the pain, suffering, humiliating, grotesque, horrifying shit that hospitals, (and childbirth) puts you through, you vow to never have anymore children. "One is enough for me!" I said. And then, after all of that, after countless strangers not only seeing, but putting digits inside my little cave of wonders, out emerges this tiny life... Beautiful, special, amazing, wondrous, tiny me. And she is mine. mine forever, to cherish and play with and teach and help me learn things, too. And suddenly your opinion towards more babies changes. After all I went through and still go through now months later, I would totally have more kids, because they are so damn worth it. To be able to create something so special is such a blessing, such an amazing privilege.

I am a completely different person now that I'm a mommy to someone. It was hard for me to visualize or imagine myself being a mom right away, having that responsibility and little person attached to you almost every minute of every day for the next 7 years at least. But I'm here. I'm doing it, and fairly well if I do say so myself... And I'm enjoying myself. I love that little girl so much more than I love myself, and anything in this world. me and my husband together will provide this child with more love and support in every area of her life than anyone else. My little family that God has allowed me to indulge in is more than I could ever ask for, hope for, imagine.

People told me that I wouldn't bond well with my daughter if she was a Cesarean, and they were so wrong. I can't imagine loving her more than I do. This level of love so far transcends how I thought it would be. Being a mom is like nothing I've ever experienced... Even after all the pain. After all the humiliating shit. After being sliced open and having so many scars both physically and emotionally that will never go away, I would do it all again. For my daughter, and for my future babies.

I'm not entirely sure where to end this, so much has happened between when I had Maggie and now. but a blog post should only be so long, I think. Maybe here is a good spot...

Peace, Mego out.

BABY PART 1

So this whole baby thing ain't no joke. I've been here at Jersey Shore Medical about 11 hours now, my waj is already sore from all the new friends I've made!

What fun!

We got here at 5 pm, I was administered cervadil, that was around 7:30 pm. I asked for something to help me sleep around 9 pm, and received an ambien around 11 pm. I slept for maybe 45 minutes, and have been up since about 1:15 am. It is now 4 am.

My I.V. thingy has gone into alert mode like 17 fuckin' times. My poor husband can't get a wink of sleep!

I've been having pretty painful, consistent contractions since around 11, and I'm excited for more pain.

More pain means baby, and baby means happy mama.

They've got these gnarly lancets that they use to test my blood sugar, and the hugest tester I have ever seen in my life. It's seriously like the size of a large brick. Sorry, that is all my sleep deprived brain can come up with at the moment.

I hope this kid comes soon after morning breaks. I just want to hold her in my arms instead of my thorax.

I HAVE A RAGING HEADACHE.

I am hungry.

If I could have gone back and done anything differently at this point, I would have eaten before I left home, and I would have definitely smoked a shit ton of weed. Since apparently ambien doesn't work.

Peace, Mego out.

Whatever.

I really meant to blog more. I didn't want to start something, commit to something and then just fall off the bandwagon. And of course, that's what I did.

I really do enjoy it. I just feel like there's not enough time for it. Between doctor appointments, taking care of my dog, wallowing in my self pity, taking care of my unborn child, plus my diabetes, I just get lost and extremely overwhelmed. But maybe that was just a hump and I'm getting over it. Maybe I'll start pumping out 2 or 3 blogs a week now.

Hey, It's worth a shot.

OK, updates, let's see... I reconnected with an old friend who I haven't spoken to in about 6 years. Well, I guess she reconnected with me really. Whatever. I'm glad she did. It was a terrible, painful part of my past that I thought about everyday, and wondered if what happened was supposed to, or if we just let our stupid 13 year old minds run rampant. Again, whatever, I guess. It happened and there's no taking it back. But anyway.

Like I said, It was a painful part of my life and was always in the back of my mind, weighing on me and causing me small amounts of anxiety, which God knows I don't need. After we talked and reconnected I felt so much better. And It's one thing I can now say doesn't weigh me down anymore. which, at this point in my life is an amazing thing for me. Everything has just seemed to be weighing me down this past year and I have to say, It feels pretty damn good to have one less thing. I feel better, I know its better for my kid, and the people who love me.

When you have anxiety, it doesn't only affect you, it causes the people around you pain. It causes them stress and worry and hurt and sadness and confusion as to why what's happening to you is happening. And it sucks because not even you know. Whatever, though.

My insurance changed and they no longer provide coverage for the pump I've been on since July. So I'm switching pumps. Right now I'm on the Omnipod by Insulet, and I'm switching to the 530G pump by Medtronic. I have to say, I am excited, albeit a little nervous for what the future holds. I'm switching from a pump without tubing, to a pump with tubing. I think that will be the hardest thing to adjust to, honestly. Because the rest is just a learning curve.
I'm also receiving a CGM, or a continuous glucose monitor for all of you non-diabetics out there.
Basically it's a sensor that tracks your blood sugars so you will know if you're going too high, or too low. I am really pumped for that. It will be nice to have the awareness and knowledge of my constant blood sugars.

Like tonight, it really would have come in handy.

Every night this past week I've been waking up around 1:30 AM and have been unable to go back to sleep, usually until 5 or 6. then I sleep until 8 or 9 and eat the rest.

Whatever.

Tonight I woke up around 1:30 and here I am blogging instead of sleeping at 4:29 in the morning.

My husband's alarm is going off for work. Maybe I'll let him miss it and be late. Haha.

Pregnancy is really hard. I feel like everyone told me, but maybe I just wasn't prepared for all of it. It has so many more aspects than just the physical parts. Which, believe me, if you don't know, are surely hard enough. My stretch marks have stretch marks. I was wearing a bikini this time last year, and now, I will NEVER WEAR A BIKINI EVER AGAIN AS LONG AS I LIVE.

But, whatever. Who needs bikini's, right?

I don't want to get into all the woes of pregnancy so I'm not going to. Not in this post anyway.

My baby shower is this Sunday, and tomorrow I am going to get my nails done for the first time in, probably about a year. I used to love doing that. Now, I gotta be honest, it seems a little impractical. Maybe I'll feel differently tomorrow, I don't know.

I'm scheduled to be induced between my 38th and 39th week of gestation, probably sooner the further I get in my pregnancy. Last week It was between 39 and 40 weeks.

I have weekly doctor appointments now. Usually one on Tuesdays, and one on Thursdays. NS testing every week, and in depth ultrasounds every week. On top of that I have endocrinologist appointments, training for my new pump and CGM, and my regular OB/GYN appointments too. I always thought the few weeks before a baby is born would be almost like the calm before the storm, but I was horribly, awfully wrong. foolishly wrong. It's just going to be a shit show until she pops out, and not too much easier after she does so. Even though I am sure it will be more enjoyable because I'll have a tiny human... Right?

Whatever.

It is what it is and I can't change 97% of it, so why try? I just need to work on my own happiness, my own calm. I need to be still.

It really helps me to make lists. I feel productive as I'm making a list, and like a super human when I can then check things off of said list. It's quite the thrill, really. I made a list tonight amidst my sleeplessness.

I like lists.

Peace, Mego out.

Puppies, Babies, And Death.

I had a fairly eventful week and weekend. Lots of doctor appointments, as usual, and it was my sister's birthday.

We also had an extremely unexpected and very tragic death in the family. I feel as though I am at a loss for words to write.

I think that blogging has been very good for me, it helps me process my emotions better, and focus on one thing fully. Which I am sure as you can imagine is difficult for me, because of all the things currently going on in my life.

This morning I had another doctor appointment, and me and my mother went to see the baby in my belly. Everything is measuring beautifully and she currently weighs in at 4 pounds, 3 ounces. We didn't get any photos to take home this visit because she had her arms over her face- again!

Last Tuesday she had to have an echocardiogram done, and the doctor was worried that one of her major arteries was massively too small, which would require surgery at birth, and all these things for Tim and I to think about, and stress over. We had an appointment at Children's Hospital of Philadelphia the following Friday to get it checked out. Turns out that the abnormal increased blood flow in her aortic valve is not cause by something like a tiny artery, the big concern, but could possibly be caused by a missing leaflet in her valve. A much more common heart defect.

I feel odd talking about my daughter's possible common heart defect in such a calm manner, because it is still just that, a heart defect. Ideally, she wouldn't even HAVE a heart defect.

But it is what it is and I can't change it.

If she does end up with a heart defect, I can't help but feel totally and completely responsible. Diabetics who choose to reproduce know full well that their offspring are much more likely to have organ and heart defects. I am selfish, and am willing to allow my child's quality of life to be lacking, simply because I want a baby.

I find myself downtrodden today. Sad, and lacking confidence, lacking conviction, and lacking motivation. I just want to lay in bed with my dog and watch netflix. And maybe eat a donut.

Death is tough to deal with. Everyone has their own coping mechanisms and outlets. But just the thought of it... I don't know. It leaves me feeling uneasy and angry. Mainly when the way is happened was violent, tragic, or just out of the ordinary.

Life is really really hard to deal with sometimes.

Yesterday I had an appointment with my cardiologist. They sent me home with a 24 hour heart monitor. I am wearing it currently. I have 3 hours and 27 minutes remaining, then I can take it off and return it to my doctor's office. I slept horribly last night, I was up most of the night.
It doesn't help that my dog has decided that he needs to go all the way downstairs every single night to use the bathroom. But I guess that is better than having to clean up an accident in the middle of the night.

I enjoy blogging, but I feel as though I am not very good at it. I feel scatterbrained, and random. I feel boring and uninteresting. I feel as though all my posts are the same.

I'm hoping to get more posts out there, maybe have a weekly quota I need to meet. Practice makes perfect, they say.

I think I'll go nap with my pup.

Peace, Mego out.

"There may be pain in the night, but hope comes in the morning."

This is harder than I thought it would be. As the week progresses, literally every day I have said to myself, "Well, at least it can't get any worse!"

What a joke.

I do not understand. Some people take this so lightly, pregnancy and carrying another tiny person, even just children in general. I have never felt such a heart tearing feeling in my life. Some shit has gone down before, some shit that will never get any easier... But this, this is different.

This is life changing.

This is my child.

I can feel her tiny legs kick with all the force she is able to muster, I can hear her tiny heart beating, and see the small but strong strokes of it when I am at my OB's office.

"There may be pain in the night, but joy comes in the morning."

All week I have had this very real sense of peace, and comfort from God. But I can't help but feeling it all crumbling down around my head. I feel panic, I feel an overwhelming fear and dread. I feel like everything in my life is so different now than is was 3 years ago, along with my priorities and the things that matter the absolute most.

In the bible, one of God's promises is that when we get to heaven, we get a brand new body. Perfect, and without disease.

I have forgotten what that is.

I have no other choice but to believe this to be true, because I am drowning in my sadness with life and where I am, the state that my body is in. The anxiety that I cannot seem to control. The tears that never seem to run out.

The fear.
The hopelessness.
The anger.

I want to stop trembling, and I want to stop feeling the way I feel. I want to have complete hope in Christ, complete trust and total selflessness in Him.

And its so hard. I am weak and tired, exhausted from hanging on. I'm trying to let Him carry me. I am trying.

I've never been so afraid. I want my baby to not just be healthy. I am terrified of how I will deal with it if she isn't. If I'm feeling like this now, with no definite answers, what is going to happen if she needs surgery at birth? I always hype myself, and make things worse in my head. I'm praying that it is all ok, and I'm making a big deal out of nothing. I love her more than I've ever loved anything... And I don't know how to handle any of this.

I want peace. I want understanding. I want the damn rapture to come and take us so God can give us what he promised, brand new bodies in a perfect place, for ever and ever.

I am afraid. Writing helps. A little bit...

I need to sleep. I need to pray... I need a cup 'o noodles.

Peace, Mego out.

Mother Of Pearl

I seem to be having more bad days than good lately. I didn't want my blog to be a downer sad blog in which all I do is complain about my terrible doctors and poor health, but at this point I'm just discouraged and feeling like a downer, if we're being honest.

It's like everyday is just more bad news. Sometimes the bad news turns out to be my doctors over-reacting, and other times (most times) it's real bad news. And it's really discouraging. Angering. Saddening.

All of these feelings are not healthy, but all of these feelings are valid... I struggle with this daily. As a Christian, I want to have the ability to lean on God and let myself be comforted in the strength of His power, but in my flesh I struggle with negative feelings that are of this world. Stress, anxiety, feelings of helplessness, lost hope, bitterness, hatred, feelings of "Why me?" Among many other things.

It is so much easier to curl up in bed and cry about your life, and the shit storm it feels like its turning into, give into all the negative feelings. Cry out to the heavens, "WHY ME?" Hell, I do it all the damn time. I get little blessings throughout the day, or week, and maybe I just need to be better at focusing on them instead of the negatives.

 I don't know.

I don't know anything anymore.

I feel like I've got it somewhat figured out, then the hits just keep on coming. I said to my husband tonight, "What a week, huh?" and then he proceeded to inform me that it was, in fact only Tuesday.

Mother of pearl, let's coma this out until Friday, yes? Who's with me?! I do NOT want to deal with the rest of this week unless all it has in store for me is visits from people who I love, boxes of chocolates, and LOTS of takeout food.

On a lighter note, I should probably wait until I have people who are actually reading my blog, but you know... I'm impatient.

After you use the lavatory, do you wipe while sitting, or wipe while standing? I do it one way, and my husband does another. As do the rest of his siblings, same as him. (At least the ones I've actually ASKED.) It's kind of a private, personal question, I guess.

But anyway, I'm intrigued to say the least, to find out just how many people do it differently. I honestly was so shocked to find out anybody did it differently than I did! It had never crossed my mind.

Leave me a comment, or whatever else you can do on this here bloggy blog.

Peace, Mego out.

Today I had a doctor appointment. Tomorrow I have a doctor appointment. April 4th I have a doctor appointment. And also on the 5th, 6th, 8th, and 11th.

I'm weary today. I'm angry today, and once again, I'm tired.

Last week I went to see my primary physician for a previously scheduled appointment, regarding my asthma. I had mentioned to him, (after he asked me) that I wasn't feeling too well. I've had a headache, a very painful sore throat, my nose is stuffy and runny, and I started having very painful pressure in my ears, and I can't hear out of my left one.

 I have 2 chronic illnesses that make me more susceptible to infections and disease, so immediately my mind went to ear infection. Great!

Anyway, after being asked by my primary if I was feeling well, I proceeded to tell him all this, and I said, "I figured I was getting a cold or something, but I knew we had this appointment, so I waited to see you to tell you about it."

So the jackass says "Well you're probably getting a cold or something..." and then he changed the subject. What kind of doctor acts like that? Is that normal? since then I've only gotten worse and I'm in more pain, but I don't want to call him up because he's an asshat, and I dislike him immensely. I guess I'll just tough it out like I do with every other single thing in my life.

Being pregnant has made me stronger. I've experienced more pain in the last 7 months, consistently, than I have  (on a daily basis, anyway) ever before, and only been able to take Tylenol to help.
Well, taking Tylenol every day kind of stops helping after the first few weeks.

And still I chug along.

I am 29.8 weeks pregnant today. Wednesday I will be 30 weeks. 10 more to go. well, 9 really, as of now. Because of my illnesses my doctors are scheduling me to go at 39 weeks. Either I'll be induced, or I will need a cesarean. My doctors think I'll need to go sooner than that, but it depends on whether or not Maggie's organs get too big near the end of the pregnancy. Tomorrow I have an echo-cardiogram to find out if her heart lining is getting too thick.

This kiddo must be strong as nails, to endure all of her mommy's stresses that comes from all these tests I have to have done. I can't wait to be through, and hold her finally.

I'm watching Doctor Who. The episode with Rose and Eccleston and the mannequins. Freaky, yo.

My Easter was pretty good. Despite feeling ill, I enjoyed The company I was with. My grandmother's house had 2 of my aunts and uncles, and their families. Cousins too, obviously. They all tried their best to make sure I was comfortable. Which I was not, but not because of their lack of trying! Because I am simply 30 weeks pregnant and I've decided that it is impossible to be comfortable long, if ever.

I missed my other aunts and cousins, but I hope they enjoyed their Easters. I'll see them soon enough I guess.

Maybe I'll go to bed after I post this. I'm just ready for the day to be over. I'll set up in bed with some snackage and some Monk on my laptop, and chill. Or sleep. Probably sleep.

This post probably sucks a little bit of ass, but I just feel extremely unmotivated, and my life is just not that interesting. I get all my thrills from hubsand and his crazy stories from work. He's an electrician and works in the shittiest places. Some nicer areas, but mostly shit-villes. He's in Newark a lot. Comes home with stories about thugs beating his truck windows at stoplights trying to get him to buy their grape fruitsnacks... I don't know. He entertains me. I love him.

Peace, Mego out.

Eating Again, Little One?

Today I was looking through the thousand and something photos from our wedding and engagement shoot that I just figured out how to put on our new laptop, and I just kept thinking how pretty I was and how skinny I was and how badly I wish to be that size again.

And then it struck me how sick I was too.

I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes just shy of 2 months after my "Happily ever after" day.

Should I do a little backstory? Probably. Here goes!

In September of 2014 I was hired at a local bakery called Delicious Orchards in Colts Neck NJ. They weren't supposed to keep anyone after the holidays, but ended up liking me and a few other people so much that they kept us after Christmas.
 It was amazing.
 I've never had a work experience like that before. I know a lot of people says it's like "Another family" but these people really were like my 2nd family. We laughed, we cried, we confided, we fought and we loved. I met some people who I will never forget, and I also met some people who I'd rather not ever see again, thank you.

Anyway, enough sappy shit. Where was I... Oh yea.

So when I started I had some pretty long days filled with lots of physical labor. I went from sitting on my couch watching netflix to working 5 days a week, 7 am to 5 pm (usually) if not later. Then after the holidays things started to slow down, as they usually did at the Orchard. But my hours changed. I started going in around 5 most mornings, it was time to make the donuts! Some mornings I wouldn't have to be in until 530, and others I had to be in at 4 or 430- depending on the donut  expectations during the week.

I hadn't really been feeling too well the past few months, and it intensified when my hours changed and I started my workday at 430-5 am instead of 7am. I thought I had just never adjusted fully to the whole working full time gig. But when I started working earlier, man oh man was I pooped. My head pounded constantly, I was always achy and had a lot of back and neck pain, and pain in my abdomen. I honestly thought i was just getting abs that you couldnt see under my pooch i have always had. Then I started losing a lot of weight, despite the amount of food I was eating... Looking back I can't believe how we didn't know something else was happening. How we didn't know something was wrong. I ate so much I don't even know how to describe it. Let's just say that EVERYONE in the whole place knew me by how much I ate. All the older ladies would always tell me to "be careful, it will catch up to you someday!" People who I didn't even talk to would walk by me on break and say "look at Megan! Is she eating again?? It's only 10 in the morning and I've seen her eat 3 meals already!" I'd just give them the finger and tell them they wished they could eat like me. Ha.

One of my close friends, we can call him Rozwald, this wonderful Italian man with the sweetest accent in the world would always jab me in the ribs with his elbow and say he couldn't believe how I ate. "Eating again, little one?" We would sit together at lunch and breaks every day and he would watch me eat and shake his head in disbelief.

And despite how incredibly much I constantly ate, nothing could quench the hunger I always felt, and nothing could quench the thirst. I would drink close to 2 gallons of water every single day. And don't even get me started on how often I peed. I was blessed to work with certain people who actually liked me, because when I say I was heading to the bathroom every half hour, I was heading to the bathroom every half hour. I used to joke and say they were going to fire me because of how many bathroom breaks I would always take.

Besides the constant pain I was in, plus the headaches, the eating and drinking and peeing, I was so exhausted. Which again I contributed to the fact that I just didn't get much sleep and I had to be up early for work. I honestly thought all of this was normal. And so I dealt with it. For months I dealt with it. Almost crippling tiredness, pain, sluggishness, moodiness, and weight loss. I thought this was normal stress related, teen stuff. After all, I was planning my wedding at the same time.

Fast forward to my wedding day. Everything went so well. There were some not so great things here and there, but overall, simply wonderful. I couldn't have asked for more in a wedding day!
Then we honeymooned, (which is a completely different blog post in itself) and returned home to our normal lives.

A few weeks after we got back, my husband and I filed for life insurance after the prompting of my wonderful parents. We were young, totally healthy and it would be cheaper the healthier we were. So we figured why not?

I remember a few nights after we filed, I came home after being out somewhere, I don't remember now. I walked into my living room where my parents were sitting just the 2 of them. Which is weird for my home because of all the people living in it. My mommy told me to sit down so I did, close to her. I said, " Come on guys, who died?" with a little chuckle. they smiled and said nobody died, but they got an unsettling phone call they had to tell me about. They said that the rep from the life insurance company, (also a family friend) called them directly and said I was rejected for my life insurance because I was a health risk and they couldn't risk insuring me.

I was rejected. I was rejected for life insurance out of nowhere.

The reps aren't supposed to call you, and it was odd that he did, so I knew it was serious. "Am I dying? Do I have cancer? Why would they reject me?" My mind was spinning.

My mom told me that my long term blood sugars were very high and I needed to go to the doctor and have them checked out.

My A1C was 12.3 And I was very sick. My doctor was baffled that I wasn't hospitalized. I count myself blessed because for many other type 1's, they find out they have diabetes because they end up in the hospital for days with syrup running through their veins instead of blood.
I know I was blessed. But It's still hard to feel sometimes when you're stuck with this lifelong disease that touches you every single day of your life.

My DO family was so good to me, so understanding and gracious about the whole thing. My doctors said that I shouldn't be working in the state that I was in, and I told the Orchard that, and everything was ok. I'm not saying that it wasn't an inconvenience to them because I'm sure that it was. But they were just so good to me and told me that I had a job when I wanted to come back.

3 months after I was diagnosed, we found out I was pregnant. to the shock of my doctors, I had gotten my A1C down to 6.9 and was seemingly healthy enough to carry a child.

My life was falling apart, but my dreams were coming true at the same time. I will admit, I wasn't in a good state of mind since my diagnosis, and only recently came out of that. It was the hardest year of my life and I felt very alone. Very sad and alone and abandoned by God and thinking thoughts that I am afraid to even admit to myself.

Sometimes I can only think, thank God I got pregnant when I did. Because I value this tiny life inside of me more than I value many things in my own, and I truly believe that through God, she saved me.

At my doctor visit last week, I found out my A1C is now 5.7 and my numbers have been alright. a few highs here and there but nothing I can't handle. (I say this now, but if we just keep in mind my last blog post, I'm sure I'll recant that in a few days.)

I wonder if my life will always be this roller coaster of happy and sad, or will it calm down and I'll mature a little (or a lot) and be more stable? Not that I think that I'm unstable, I just think that I'm only 19 and still have some growing to do.

I think it will be better when Maggie is here.

I can't wait to hold her in my arms.

Peace, Mego out.

My Sister's Dog Keeps Shitting On My Floor

Ok, but seriously. This dog pushes his way into my room and shits on my floor for no reason. Maybe he just doesn't like me. But he tries to cuddle with me so he must like me. Right?

I had another doctor appointment today. He's trying to tell me all this ish about how I don't know how to control my asthma (which I have had for about... 19 years of my life. Literally ever since I can remember.) It was my 2nd visit with him. He's one of my newer doctors. He's a fool I tell you, a fool. Maybe I should just find a new primary. Screw you, Dr. Carson!

He also wants me to have a pulmonary function test done. I am over tests and needles. Too bad I will never ever be able to get away from the latter. With the diabeetus and all. Oy.
   Keep in mind that this is the same doctor who ordered a CAT scan done STAT last month because he was 100% sure that I had a pulmonary embolism, AKA blood clots in my lungs.
I think hes a quack who is behind on his yacht payments and doesn't give a shit how he pays them. (Meaning he's ordering bullshit tests and scans on pregnant chicks, for fun.) Grr.

I'm tired today. Not like I had a bad sleep last night and I'm going to bed early to make up for it. Like I'm tired of being sick. I'm tired of having diabetes and other chronic illnesses that will never leave me for the rest of my days. My heart is tired and my brain is tired and I am struggling with today, and dealing with life.

But days are temporary. And feelings can be too... Sometimes.

 I know that I won't always feel like this. Some days will inevitably be worse than others, and some days I'll be happy and confident in my position in life, where I am and the progress I've made. Other days I'll look at my so-called progress and cry because I'll feel like I've gotten nowhere and I'm failing myself, my body, my child and everyone around me. I've had them days before and I'll sure as hell have them again.

Today is one of those think about my "progress" and cry kind of days.

My doctor wants me to have an eye exam because my eyesight is getting worse and we want to make sure I won't be blind by the time I'm 30 because of my diabetes.
I also need to go for some other test or scan or something the week after my daughter is born because I can't have it done while I'm pregnant because it will make her grow a third arm or some shit... Makes me think,  " What is that doing to MY insides?"
I guess in the end it wont matter too too much. I'll either live long and prosper or I wont, and I'm pretty content with either.

Peace, Mego out.

Ahh. Another Refreshing Morning.

You know that great feeling when you’re slowly waking up from your nighttime slumbers, you can hear birds chirping, you can hear the wind coursing through the leaves on the trees, in sort of a sing-songy way, welcoming you to a brand new day with brand new possibilities, maybe you can hear a wind chime playing you the lovely tune of her people, the tune she was born to play from the moment of her creation, until she inevitably ends up torn from her hanging home, crumpled in a pile on the ground where she would lay for the rest of her wind chime existence.

Yeah, me neither. Maybe when I was younger, and without many an ailment.

Usually my waking moment is less of a slow  welcoming into the world’s new day kinda thing, and more of a ripped out of sleep by something (or someone) telling me to check my blood sugar. Or, it’s an abrupt how do you do when my bladder decides not to check if it's alright with my brain if it lets loose and sends pee cascading into the sheets while I sleep because my daughter just had to sprawl out and use said bladder as a bouncy house or some shit. Now, usually I do make it to the bathroom. I'm not that far gone. But sometimes I worry more than other times…

Or maybe I'm woken up by the pain that sets in after laying in one position for more than 20 minutes. I think that one's my favorite. Hips, back, legs, neck, shoulders. You all know what I’m talking about.

Hell, I’m only 19, why do I feel like this all the time? Oh yeah, I’m growing a human life.

Now, there are some upsides to all these things. Waking up in the middle of the night to check my blood sugar instead of slipping into a coma and dying would be easier for everyone involved, I think.

Having my brain make 1 last ditch effort to wake me up to go to the bathroom before it gives in to my bladder’s pleads of "please let me pee” is better than just letting me slumber and wake up in cold wet sheets. Thanks, brain.

And my pain just means that I AM GROWING A CHILD. And not just any child, MY child. The innocent  one I will raise and teach good morals to. The little one I will clean scraped knees for and sing soothing tunes to in times of need. The beautiful one who one day I will hug tightly with tears in my eyes  and tell her she's making the right choice in who she commits her life to for the remainder of it. If I didn't have this pain, it would mean that I'm not working my very hardest to create a better and healthier life for my little one. So I’ll take it. I’ll take all the pain, and the tears, and the uncomfortable that it will take to make sure my child knows just how much she means to me, and just how hard I’m willing to work for her to have a good life, before she's even in this world. They say that after you have a baby, your life will never be the same. Well my life is completely different now because of this kid, and it morphed from the second I knew she was forming. From the time she was the size of a little tiny poppy seed, to now, when I can feel her crushing my bladder, and kicking my ribs at the same time. My life is drastically different and I can't wait to meet my best friend. She has changed me in more ways that one, and I will never be the same.

Sometimes in life you have hardships and struggles, but it's easy to see the good. Other times, you have bombs whipped at you and in the moments that you're being attacked, the dread and sorrow make it too overwhelming to breathe, let alone see any good that might possibly come out of it. There are things that I refuse to write about, that are too hard to talk about, let alone scrawl them out onto a page for the public to read. But even now, with scars that were once wounds I thought would never heal, I can look back with strength and understanding and see the good. There is a little good in everything. Of this I am sure. Even if it never touches you, somebody else will get some good from it and maybe find peace. Maybe find comfort. Maybe find the last little string that they can hold onto for a little while longer. I have realized that in this life, I do not matter. What matters to me is others. My child's health and well-being, my husband's comfort and happiness, my mother's peace and calm. My father’s desire to be loved without jumping through a few sometimes seemingly necessary hoops… I didn't do anything to deserve my Father’s love or acceptance. There is no reason for it. Other than just love. And a plain desire to be loved back. Just the other day I was talking to a woman I didn't know, at the store or something. And she said that she didn't understand why people could not be kind. She said that kindness is free, and kindness pays. And I’m not sure I've heard a truer statement. Kindness is free, and kindness pays.

Peace, Mego out.

Intro? First blog post? I don't know what I'm doing.

I'm not entirely sure what my first blog post should be about. Should it be about me? Should it be about others? What am I hoping to accomplish? To help myself? To uplift others? To sort out the scramble that is my brain 85% of the time? I know I want to share my hardships, struggles, experiences and happiness with others. I think that's about all I know at this point.
 Let's get a few things straight here.
-Firstly, I love God, I love my husband, I love my mom, I love my dog and I love my unborn child.
-Secondly, I am not a professional writer! I am a mere child trying to adjust to adulthood as quickly as possible. I do not claim to be a good writer, or even an alright writer. I thought it would help me handle myself, my feelings and my emotions better than I handle them now.
 Lord knows.
-Thirdly, nerding out for one second so excuse me, but my kid is kicking the shit out of my laptop that is sitting atop mah belleh and it's making me giggle. Heh.
-Fourthly, (Is 'fourthly' a word? Sounds funky.)  My faith is important to me. More important than many things, if not everything. BUT (I'm sorry, Mommy!) Sometimes I have a bad mouth. I sometimes say bad words. Alright? Don't judge me, bitches. Only God can judge me.
-Fifthly, if I am ever talking about food that I have made in future blog posts, IT IS HOMEMADE UNLESS OTHERWISE SPECIFIED. My family takes pride in our food and how it is prepared. But also, I will probably explain the level of homemade certain things are, if I really want to get a point across.
My PDM is beeping at me to check my blood sugar. So I guess that's it for now. That's all that my mind could think of at the moment anyway. I hope I don't sound too self-centered or back-woodsy. I promise I'm not dumb... Most of the time anyway. But hey, if'n ya'll don't like it, ya'll can skedaddle and not read my friggin' blog. Even though I'm not sure why you wouldn't want to, because I think I'm pretty awesome. Usually.

Peace, Mego out.