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.

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.

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.