What's next?

So, what is next? I got a car, I have no thyroid problems, I'm single as a flamingle, I've got two beautiful children and two fabulous jobs that I legitimately enjoy. What bomb will hit next I wonder?

Kid's shows are the dumbest thing. Why wouldn't they make these shows developmentally advanced? NO instead they seem to try to be making kids dumber. It's awful. Whatever.

I'm all over the place.

I am so hungry. We went to Doughboys and they changed their menu and it is amazing. Their new shit is delicious. But that was like ten hours ago so now I'm starving but I shall power though and not eat tonight. I'm trying hard to lose weight. I'm on the divorce diet. No carbs for me!

I'm supposed to start back at HMH next week and I am pumped. I love being there and working there. It's such a good environment to be in. Plus I love what I do for a living so that helps a lot. I love helping people and talking to people. It's also kinda cool to see everyones health records haha. But seriously I really do enjoy it.

I heard somewhere that when you're tired your body sends the same chemicals to your brain as it does when you're hungry. I don't know if that's true or not but it would explain why I have such a hard time eating at night. Food calls to me after 9pm so hardcore. But I've made it three nights now without eating at night and I hope to make it many more. Somethings gotta give here before I kick the bucket because of my food addiction. Hopefully this sticks. Lord knows I've gotta stick around for my kids.

Memories

Tonight I was going through my old drafts on my page that I never posted. Sucked. So many good writings and so many experiences that are now dead and gone. so much about my ex and when Maggie was tiny. A lot about her in the hospital when she was sick, so much grief and hardships. Crazy how things shape and morph a person into a totally different one. I can confidently say that I am totally different than I was a year ago.

Memories are a bitch.

How do professional bloggers think up things to blog about every single day? Do they blog every single day? Maybe I should do some investigating.

Is it wrong to hope you have a thyroid problem? I have amazing fatigue and exhaustion. My hair is falling out, I have zero appetite and I keep gaining weight. I never finish a meal. My doctor said its the only thing that makes sense. She also wants me to see a nutritionist. Oy vey. It would be nice to have a reason for all of this. I can only pray that this is not my reality.

Maybe I'll get another tattoo. That would be a really financially responsible choice. I'll go back to work soon and not have to worry about it as much. I'll get a car soon and be like a responsible adult. My best friend just got a new car and it's amazing. It's gorgeous. She is so responsible and controlled and kind and loving and just amazing. She's the person who I am truly lucky to have. Who everyone would kill to have by their side. She is always there for me even when I'm a total bitch, she's right there talking me through it and giving me truths and encouraging me to stop being a bitch. She's my gem.

Why do I always want to buy something when I'm sad? It's either that or eat but I'm always so nauseous so that doesn't happen.

I hope this new medication helps. I'm tired of being tired.

Journal.

I am sat here thinking how I want to start journaling, to keep track of a mess of things, meds and meds changes, feelings, hopes and fears ect. Then I remembered I have a blog! And its perfect because nobody reads my blog, so I can put whateverthefuck I want to put.

I love how godly my friends are. Always encouraging and uplifting. Always there if you need something too. They are good friends.

My doctor is changing my meds again. switching me off aripiprazole and onto olanzapine. These 'z' meds freak me the fuck out. What kind of crazy person takes meds like these? Oh wait, that's me. I'm the crazy person.

So I'm back on my bullshit. Dieting.  The dreaded 'd' word. I hate every second of it. I think I have serious food problems. Deep rooted shit or something. I love food so damn much y'all. My mama is like my therapist and helps me through so many thoughts and feelings. She's the greatest.

Blogging really is such a good outlet for people who just need to get shit out. Everyone should do it. Well, maybe not everyone.

I know I'm all over the place here, I'm tired after work and I'm not very good with my words as it is. But I guess that's it for tonight. Over and out.

oh, what a life.

Remember that song from the 90s that went, "Nobody likes you when you're 23."?  Yeah. About that...

New beginnings, right? I can have a fresh start with the people who really love me and who really matter. I can give my all to my girls and my family, I can treat my friends how I want and should have been this whole time.

It sucks asses, but maybe its for the best. The inner turmoil and self hate and questions that will always go unanswered are still there, oh they're there full force. But I have a sense of newness. A taste of what could be. I might be coming into myself and becoming who I wouldn't have otherwise. Who I should be.

Divorced. How much emotion that word holds for me. Is it the same for everyone? Is it wrong to still have a king bed and sleep right in the middle like a queen? More questions that shall go unanswered.

I can do what I want now. If I want a computer, I can buy one. If I want to work more hours I will. Buy a car? Why not! If I want to shave my head I fucking will. Fuck it. I can't lie, it is a little invigorating... To be able to make  my own decisions. But that's just driftwood that comes along with the crash. And it does feel like a crash. With blood and guts and heartbreak and sadness and just straight shit. Shit that I have to work through alone.

I'm heading out. Somewhere with vast possibilities and decisions to be made. Decisions I'll make on my own, or with the help of people who I choose. I'll step out and see what there is with my wonderful girls by my side. I love those girls with my whole being. My responsibility as their mother seems to grow every time I turn around, and I don't dislike it. It's empowering and exciting. I get to show them how to be a strong woman. They don't have many in their life. So I'll be that for them. They will grow up knowing what's what. And they will grow up knowing not to take any shit from nobody. My girls will be strong as fuck. Just like their mama.

Keeping this one short and sweet, folks... Just dipping my piggies back in the water.

It Has Been Too, Too Long.

As I type this, my dummy dog is flinging the innards of a stuffed raccoon on my keyboard, my daughter is taking a "nap" before her next feeding session in 2 hours, and my dear old hubby is snoring in the background.

I love my life!

I am at such peace with almost everything in my life right now. I have a healthy, happy almost 8 month old girlie, a husband who works hard and loves me, parents  who are supportive, helpful, loving. A best friend who believes in me and my dreams, and who is such a solid foundation in my life, who is also my life coach and is helping me get my health in check. I couldn't ask for a better support system.

After Maggie Lou was born, I started my own business. I get to help my family make some money, and work from home so I get to be with my baby all day. It is pretty great, but super stressful at times, as with any business.

Mine and Tim's goal this year is to buy a home. We have a specific one in mind and are going through the motions of becoming homeowners. Nothing legal yet, but talking with realtors and moving some money around. I'm trying not to get my hopes up about this house, because things like this always fall through. But dammit, I'm excited!

This post was way way shorter than I had hoped, but I hear my beauty stirring in her crib.

 I guess feeding time's come early tonight.

Peace, Mego out.

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.