I'm So Rumbly In My Tumbly

I think I'm having sympathy pains for my pregnant sister in law who is now over due....or it's gas.

People I Miss Vol 3 (I Think)

A couple years ago when I was at the horrible job I've referred to a couple other times, the one where I wound up on anxiety medication, the one I'm sure contributed to my miscarriage, the one I still have nightmares about, I had an employee named Cody.

I had some awful employees but I also had a few who were pretty good, Cody was one of the good ones. The thing almost all of them had in common was they hated me, it wasn't really personal I was their boss and I was just doing my job but they didn't like it. That wasn't very pleasant.

The difference with Cody (and one of two others) was I don't think she saw me as the enemy. She'd previously been in the military and understood #1 chain of command, and #2 following the rules. We weren't good friends or anything but she treated me with professional courtesy rather than hostility or insincere politeness.

She was also the only Mom that worked there when I got pregnant and gave me quite a bit of practical advice and didn't try to tell me the "right" way to do anything. When I was about 9 weeks along I had some pretty heavy spotting. I was terrified that I was about to loose another baby. I called my Dr.'s office and they made me an appointment for later that day. In the mean time I had to go in and open. Cody happened to be one of the people working that morning. I was trying not to display how worried I was but I guess it showed because she asked what was wrong. I only said I was having a problem and I was going to the doctor latter. She looked at me for a couple seconds and said, "you're having spotting.". I blinked in surprise and confirmed she was right. She explained that she'd had the same thing happen around 9 weeks and her daughter was fine. I was so relieved. I still knew it could be very bad but I hadn't known until she told me that it might be okay. Later that day when I came back from the doctor my boss was there and...she...was just horrible to me (I don't have words to describe how miserable I was at that job). Cody interrupted her berating me to ask how things went and I was happy to report that the baby was fine although the spotting was caused by something I'd done at work.

It was just a couple weeks latter that I sat down with my boss (not the one who was so horrible to me but her boss) and had the conversation that ended my time there. I can't tell you how much better I felt when I knew I never had to go back there again but I there were a few employees I wondered about from time to time including Cody.

A few months latter Cody got in touch with me and asked if she could bring me a gift for the baby. It was a beautiful hand crocheted blanket. I was touched beyond words that she'd done that. I've never seen her since.

Cody,
If you ever stumble across this. Thank you for treating me like a human being. Thank you for some good advice. Thank you for calming me down when I was inches from panic. Thank you for the lovely blanket Fiona sleeps in it ever night.

They Gave Me the Good Stuff

When I was pregnant (don't worry this one's not going to turn in to a Fiona story, at least not really) I was extremely nervous about the entire process of getting the baby out. I never liked the idea of giving birth but accepted it as necessary if you want to have kids (well your own kids, believe me I considered adoption).

You see I've never broken a bone, never had a tooth pulled (heck never had a cavity), never had a serious injury or medical procedure. I was (and frankly still am) a lightweight when it comes to pain. Although I think it's the anticipation of the pain that was the real problem after all I've had my ears pierced 4 times, 1 tattoo, and my belly button pierced (which hurt way more than the tattoo, faster though).

So I was actually a little relieved when it turned out that I was having a c-section (no way I can spell the actually name) because Fiona was trying to come out butt first. I was not fooled in to thinking it would be painless but it would be shorter and I could schedule it which cut out that whole anticipation thing.

The fact that I've never dealt with major pain before also meant that I'd never dealt with major pain killers before so I couldn't give them any hints as to how I'd react. The Dr's made a judgement call and gave me what they thought was best, Morphine. In short they shot me up with pure Heroin and I can tell you I see why people get addicted to that stuff. The sad result was the night my daughter was born they gave me the pain killers and then the nurse was helping Dave change a diaper (he didn't need it but that's her job). I felt it hitting as I watched them and then I said quite clearly, " I am so stoned". I think the nurse actually laughed. I had to wait until I came down a little to hold Fiona because I was afraid I'd drop her.

The moral of this story (for me at least) is if I have any more kids or major surgeries to ask them to skip the Morphine because that was more than I needed in a pain killer.

Throwing Down the Gauntlett

Okay someone needs to get pregnant soon so I can buy them all the cute things I find that Fiona's already to big for. I'm just sayin...

Do you have a moment to talk about baby weight?

I had a very hard time letting go and allowing myself to gain weight when I was pregnant. I was a bit over weight in High School and worked really hard to get down in to the healthy weight range and stay there. These days they are recommending women gain 25-35 pounds during pregnancy. Around the 6 month mark my Doctor told me I was gaining too quickly (I'd already gained 35 pounds). I held it together until we got home then I climbed in bed and cried for a long time. I gained a total of 45 pounds by the time Fiona was born. I've been obsessed with loosing it ever since. As of last Saturday I've only got 12 pounds to go and I'm on track to be down to pre baby weight by September. Which means the 9 months up 9 months down rule seems to be accurate for me. Here's my point although people keep telling me I look good (Dave called me sexy just last night) I don't feel attractive. I know plenty of women who took quite a while to loose their baby weight (My sister in law told me it took her 2 years with her first) or wind up struggling the rest of their lives. I'm not sure why we put this pressure on ourselves and I don't know how to stop it but I know there are a lot of us out there and I just want to say, cut yourself some slack you made any entire human being that makes you pretty damn beautiful.