Sunday, July 17, 2011

Tales of a former dancer part 3

My husband loves to watch So You Think You Can Dance. Once apon a time, I did too. Before I retired from my life as a dancer, I had ambitions. Lots of them.  I was dancing at UNLV, finally getting to a place in my dancing where I felt I was ready to put myself out there in the real world, and Las Vegas has lots of opportunities for dancers with talent ranging from mediocre to advanced. The plan was to finish my degree, with a minor in dance. Because really? Who majors in Dance anyhow? And to audition like crazy. I also wanted to give SYTYCD a go as well.  Now, by no means did I ever think I was good enough to make it to the top 20, but I did think I might have made it past the choreography round. Maybe. I felt it would have just been an amazing experience, and a chance to dance with Mia Michaels? I'd cut off my feet for that (but then I wouldn't be able to dance...I didn't think it through very much I guess.) But life had other plans for my dancing career.

In my second year at UNLV, I managed to get into an upper division ballet class. And it was hard yo. And I've done point (and  kind of sucked at it I may add) But it was a perfect challenge for me, dancing with girls who had been doing this since they could walk was a great push for me to work all that much harder. I had less than half the years of experience they did, but I shined like a new penny. Then two things happened that ended my career. About a third into the semester, I tore the heck out of my hamstring, and you don't ballet with a torn hamstring. But at the time, it wasn't such a big deal to me because I had just gotten engaged during the summer and was planning on bailing out on Vegas anyhow. So long hopes and dreams! People do dumb things when they are in love. So I dropped my beloved ballet class. And most of my other classes as well and moved to California in December. And lived happily ever after, for the most part.

But I stopped watching that show. Because there's this part of me that still wonders what might have been if I had gone ahead and stayed. Had I not injured myself, had I been more focused and less in a love induced fog. And it makes me miss dancing something fierce. Movement stirs within my soul and it always will. I can hear the tune of the city streets and I'll want to burst out dancing. Dancing is that one thing for me that I am good at and that one thing that I would love to do forever, but now I'm too old, too fat and too scared to go back to that world, so I shut it out. Box up those memories and shoes and save them for a rainy day. Or for a little girl who may just share her mommy's passion for dance.

But my husband, he loves that damn show. He's starting to develop an eye for talent. Some dance culture if you will. But the only time he'll ever see his wife dance is in old videos of recitals from years ago.

I'll probably never dance again.

But who knows. I have been thinking really hard about making a come back...

Thursday, July 7, 2011

To another year

So kids it's my four year anniversary with my wonderful hubby. And this year, instead of me writing some sappy blog about our relationship and it's ups and downs like I did last year, this year I'm going straight to the bull. The "king" (insert eye roll), my champion. That's right, I'm interviewing my hub. Let's get a little male perspective here. (He is pretty much playing Wii bowling as I'm interviewing him)

So what did you think when you first saw me that fateful day in the Olive Garden?
Are you serious? That question again? Honestly , I didn't really notice you because you didn't make yourself known.

Bull shit, I did so. You don't remember what I said to you?
I don't remember.

YOU DON'T?!?
No that was 10 years ago.

You're such a man. Next question then, when you DID first notice me, what did you think?
Very nice (said like Borat) You were a nice piece of meat, only 20.

When did you know I was the one?
Back in 0.......probably about  a year after you moved to Vegas.

Wow, you're really slaying them babe. The night before our wedding were you anxious, nervous, scared?
Kind of all of the above. Scared because I was getting married, anxious because I was marrying you, pre-wedding jitters I guess. Then your brother and Dennis and Aaron and Ashley took me in the bathroom and gave me shots.
No they didn't....
Yes they did! They took me in there and told me congrats and helped me relax.

I seriously didn't know that until right now.
I told you that!

No you didn't. I remember everything, duh...In a church, shame on you...Anyhow...You still cried like a beeotch, do you remember why?
I don't know...Cuz I saw you.

So I looked hot?
I wouldn't say that....
asshole!
Ha, ha, ha...You looked radiant dumb ass, you didn't look hot, hot is for single chicks.

Nice save, butthole.  So, soon after we found out we were expecting, did that freak you the heck out like it did me?
Nope. I was cool as a cucumber, because I wanted a family.

Ya, so did I but I was still scared poop-less. Do you love me more than our kid? Just kidding, kind of....
No. I love you each the same, in different ways.
Awww...Muffin. But you should love me best!

What is your favorite memory of us?
There's so many. When you stole the floating things in Hawaii. 
They were by the trash, that is not stealing, that's called one man's trash is another's treasure!
And when we go to Disneyland, like that one time it rained and we had to wear ponchos and you were sharing one with me, I think we have a picture of that right? Oh and that one time at band camp...

You crack me up. I love your randomness! What is your favorite thing that I do?
...(long pause)...you're caring? You put up with me?
You're really knocking them dead here baby!

What is your least favorite thing that I do?
Tell me what to do.
Well if you didn't act like a teenager I wouldn't have to.
Ha, ha, ha...it's your way or no way.
Yes, actually it is, after all these years you don't know that?

What are you looking froward to in the future?
A better life with you and our children. Like owning our own home, having no bills.

So what would you want the readers of my blog to know about us?
Every marriage has its ups and downs, but the person that you're with helps you through those downfalls, and that's the type of couple we are.
Word, babe.

Any final thoughts?
I love you, and don't be mad for my answers. You asked me.

Yes I did.

What are your final thoughts?
Don't ever get famous babe, because you kind of suck at interviews!

So that's my husbands blog debut. And probably his last. But we really do adore each other, (as you see from the dumbass's and other loving terms of endearment we use.) Our marriage isn't perfect but it's us 100%. And we wouldn't have it any other way. So salute my lover, here's to another year!

Friday, June 17, 2011

...The only way to really know, is to really let it go...

I'm not even 100% sure if it's time to post this. It's still so fresh.

Saturday:
Spent the whole day feeling good, better than usual. My appetite came back today, which I thought was weird, but it didn't even cross my mind to worry.
Saturday night I started spotting. I freaked out, cried clutching my stomach saying every prayer I 've ever known, begging, pleading for this to not be happening.
Desperately, I looked to the Internet to see if perhaps, this is normal for five and a half weeks. Several sources said it was.

Sunday:
Still spotting, and now, cramping. Panic has set in. I called a nurse hotline, and was recommended to go to an urgent care. This cannot be happening, our insurance isn't effective until the first of July! How can you do this to me?!
We went to the urgent care, they turned us away because we couldn't pay that day. They sent us to another urgent care. They also turned us away. I sat in the car bawling as my husband tried desperately to console me. I begged the contents of my uterus to stay put, don't leave me! Not now, not when you were the only ray of sunshine in our lives! Why is this happening to us?
We went home, defeated. I told my husband if the bleeding got worse, we would go to the er.
It got worse.
The ER staff looked at me baffled, since I wasn't bleeding to death, they weren't sure why I was there. I had to know. Had to know what was happening to my baby. The baby we worked so hard to conceive. The baby I was so over the moon excited about. My miracle baby.
Blood test showed I was still pregnant, but barley.  Ultrasound showed my uterus was empty. The doctor asked if I thought I had bled enough to have lost the baby. I said no. He sent us home with out a definite answer. Follow up with an ob/gyn, take it easy.
How can I take it easy? I'm losing my baby.

Monday:
We call a few area ob/gyn's, the office visit with out insurance is $200. We simply cannot afford it. I call planned parenthood, to see if they could help us once more. The girl I spoke with on the phone was sympathetic and helpful, they couldn't get me an appointment until Wednesday but if I walked in they would be able to see me that day.
Planned parenthood does not have a local office. We had to pack up our family, and rush to another city, 45 minuets away.  When we got there, we waited to be seen by the receptionists. When I told them why we were here she said "Well, there's nothing we can do for you here." I tried explaining what the ER doctor said to me. "Well, it takes a few days for the HCG to leave your body, that positive doesn't mean anything."
I've never felt so distraught in my whole life. The whole world did not care that I was losing my baby. This is the worst time possible for this to happen to us. We wasted gas that we didn't have in the first place to come and see whether or not my baby was actually gone, and were turned away, yet again.
We returned home, defeated, distraught with grief. My whole body ached with the emotional and physical pain of losing my child. I bit the bullet and made the appointment with the ob/gyn. We would cash out the savings bonds we were going to use for Ethan's college money so I could go.

Tuesday:
My body feels 100% normal, non pregnant. I try my best to put on a brave face and move on. The thought that I was losing my baby doesn't hurt as bad as the circumstances that followed it. On the bright side, I am able to get pregnant. Maybe we will be lucky and get pregnant again right away after this. Maybe this time it will stick. I am optimistic, hopeful, but our family doesn't have "good" luck, only bad. And my heart feels as empty as my uterus.

Wednesday:
Feeling better, the spotting finally stopped. I feel like this is probably over and am relieved. Until around 4 pm. The bleeding gets worse, much worse. The cramping is awful. At around 9 pm, at dinner with my friends, I pass the baby in the bathroom at the restaurant. My heart is broken a little more. What do I do? What can I do? These last few days have been emotionally un-bearable. I thank God a thousand times over for my best friend who not only has been through this, but who took me away for a few days, cared for me and spoiled me. And of course my husband, who proved to be my rock, and was just as broken hearted about this as me. I would have been in such a deep, dark place if not for them.

Thursday:
The doctor appointment. Everything went smooth, my uterus was empty, still, but my hcg was still positive, normal they said.  They will re-check in two weeks.  The NP told us to start trying again right away. I feel a tiny sliver of hope in all of this darkness. Now we can move on. Our hearts a little heavy, our spirits a little down. The world has yet again kicked us in the face, but we are only stronger because of it.

...Maybe in the future, you're gonna come back, you're gonna come back to me...


*All of my readers have been following along on this journey as we try to conceive our second child, and this is just a part of this process. I wouldn't think anyone here would be judging why I wrote this post but for those who may be new, or who have missed some of the earlier posts, this is part of my life at this time. It was important for me to share the joy of finally being pregnant here and it is with a heavy heart that I share this story. But I am being true to my self and my friends and family whom I don't get to share things with directly by continuing the story of our pregnancy through any stage. I truly enjoyed hearing all the "congrats" on us announcing this pregnancy and I know I can also lean on the same people for support now, during this time of need. Thanks!

Thursday, June 9, 2011

Random thoughts from a bearly pregnant fat chick

I didn't journal any of my pregnancy with E. And you know, I kind of feel bad for it! I wished I would have written down what I was feeling so that when #2 came along, I would have a guide for comparison sake. I don't remember when I first started feeling sick with E, but man, this little fetus (little feti? Fetuses? What would plural fetuses be?) Has been making me feel like poo the last two days. Down right drained of energy, sick to my stomach, mostly in the afternoon, and plain miserable. At five weeks mind you! Pukey-ness shouldn't commence for another week or so, great.

The only reason I'm concerned is because I am starting my nursing school pre-reqs in a week and a half. And my ...uck...statistics class is right smack in the middle of my afternoon sicky time. 
"Excuse me professor, but please don't think it rude if I need to run out of your class at warp speed, or if there is no time, if I need to puke in the trash can, you see, I'm knocked up and crazy for starting school at the same time." Then I'll smile cutely and hope there's no puke on my face.

Am I crazy to start such a huge undertaking? Maybe. Have others before me done this? Yes, and they have lived to tell the tale, as will I.  But I'm just too hell bent to stop, before I've even started. And while
baby(ies) #2(and 3?) will put me back 1 semester, I will still have my BSN in 10 semesters. Beeotch.

~~~~~~

Just at a time when everything should be happy, happy, joy, joy in my life my family and I have been faced with mountains of stress. Down to my Grandma's rapidly deteriorating health, to my husband and my lack of finances, to my parent's move, my family has been seriously put through he ringer. When it rains for the Drinkwine fam, it pours! Bring it...But prayers for my family right now are sorely needed, on so many levels.


~~~~~~

I'm convinced that I'm having twins because, a) it's in both our families, b) I feel like poo so early, c) my mom has put that bad ju-ju on me from the get go and d) we are poor, so naturally I'll probably have twins. But really, it would be kinda cool.

~~~~~~

Why do boys think it's cool to wear their jeans half way down their ass? There was this kid walking down the street today and I could see his entire ass, clad in green Hanes boxer briefs! What is possessing teenage fashion as of late? It's plain disgusting! The super skinny jeans? Those aren't flattering on anyone, especially boys. The grungy long hair? Gross! I just don't get it. Then I think back to my days in Jr high and how we wore flannel shirts with Metallica t-shirts under them, not cute at all for a girl. Fashion is weird when you are young. Heck, kids are weird at that age! I hope my kid never dresses like that, but in all reality, he probably will. But I will put my foot down on the ugly Justin Beiber hair, no way...

~~~~~~

Potty training a boy is super hard. There is no amount of bribery that will work on this kid! I'm getting less frustrated, since we'll be changing diapers again soon regardless. I just hope it happens before he graduates. High school that is.

~~~~~~

That is all. Tune in next week for more fun filled randomness.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

A fat lip, hormones and an assy husband. Welcome to your pregnancy!

I've been fine the last week. Just a little bloated, a little nauseated, a little tired. Then yesterday happened. It was staright up world war 3 in this house! It seems that as soon as that test said "pregnant" my husband knew that meant no sexo and completely lost his shit.  His mood swings are worse than mine! I've already been yelled at twice for not having a job in the last two days, nice guy huh?, and nothing I do seems to be good enough! Grrr! Aren't I supposed to be the pregnant one here? Not that that means I deserve any special rights or privlages but, don't most men treat thier wives like Queens when they are pregnant? Shouldn't he be all "Goddess Divine, you, most splendid creature, thank you for bearing my children!" No, I get, "Don't sit on the couch all damn day, and you'd better be in a better mood when I get home."

I'm just a tad sensitive.

And he's just a tad insensitive....But this is the man I married, for better or worse.

Married life. Yea!

Then the child and I were palying last night when he accidently head butted me in the mouth, giving me a nice fat lip, which didn't hurt that bad, but made me sob uncontrollably. Which then lead to me sobbing while I gave him a bath, which lead to me sobbing in bed while we watched Thomas the Tank Engine. Somewhere inbetween the snot, tissues and tears, my pregnancy hit me hard.  I remembered how ugly the last pregnancy was, how mean my husband was to me then and remembered why I said Ethan was going to be an only child.

It took nine months of research, experementing, and failed attempts, and the moment that I saw that test was positive, I was happier than I had been in a long time. But now I remember. And it's going to be a long 7.5 months.

Welcome to your pregnancy!

Friday, June 3, 2011

Fear

Something great has happened to me. I am beyond happy and excited about this new found "thing" in my life.  But behind this happiness is a huge and profound fear that I am going to wake up and it will simply not be true. Like it was just a dream I had.

No matter what evidence keeps revealing itself as the days go on, I simply cannot accept the fact that this is indeed happening. At every moment, I keep feeling as though the real truth is breathing down my neck.  It paralyzes the happiness I should be feeling, and leaves me feeling hollow and empty.

My husband keeps telling me that this is in fact, a reality, that this thing is happening. But I can't bring myself to believe it. And when I try, I feel like I'm just fooling myself.

You may think I'm crazy. And you may be right. I am also being vastly paranoid and delusional, I'll admit that. And there's a huge part of me that feels like all of these negative feelings are going to be projected to the universe and really ruin my reality. But I can't help it!

We worked so damned hard and we have been through so much in trying to conceive this child that I cannot believe that after 9 months of trying, it's real. It feels like a fantasy. The emotional roller coaster we've been on has lead us to be prepared for this moment.  But I had already given up hope. So what happens now? I mean, does anyone blame me for feeling this way?

But...I am pregnant. Finally. And it feels surreal, fake almost. On one hand I am over the moon, bursting with joy. And on the other, scared that it's just in my head.

Fear does funny things to people.

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

8 months

Everyone keeps telling you to stop stressing. You're worrying too much about it. The reality is, I'm not. When we first started trying to conceive our second child in September/October, I was crazy obsessed, but in the following months, I relaxed. Told myself to breath, relax, it will happen in its own time. Just the same advice every other man, woman, and child was giving me. But it's been 8 months. Eight months of trying, sometimes hard, sometimes, not so hard. Eight months of planning, calculating, watching and studying my body. Eight months of failed attempts at conceiving a child. Eight months of heartbreak, each and every time "lady week" rolls around.

All the medical sites and information I've been reading says you should give it a year before seeking medical help.  That's not so far away. Does that mean that after these next four attempts we pretty much close shop and seek out alternative methods? Probably. I have mentioned before that I will not put my body through the grueling process of IVF or any weird medicines that can cause me to have 8 babies at once. Not only can we not afford it but I have principles. There are thousands of children across the world who need homes, and anyone that isn't understanding of our decision to adopt can kiss my ass. (I'm very protective of my not-quite-adopted children already!)

I'm not obsessed, I'm not going crazy trying to get knocked up, I just know in my heart of hearts that I want more from my family. I want more children, I want my son to have siblings, I want ballet recitals, and football games, I want my children to surround me at Christmas, happy and excited. And what the eff is wrong with that?  God did not intend for me to have only one child, but He may have only meant for me to give birth to one. And that's ok, I am already ready to move on in the event that we are unable. I am already making peace with my body, looking into adoption, planning ahead. Just because these past 8 months have ended in failure doesn't mean that the game is over.

I'm staring my infertility in the face and trying like hell to deal with it. But this isn't over....