Here goes nuthin'...

I'm attacking the big question first, well, because I've been stewing over 'the right' thing to say.

I don't want to come off holier than thou, because of how firm I am in what I believe, but I also do not want to come off as one that is unsure about what I believe in.

Here's the question, asked by my favorite Carey in the whole world:

"If you had the opportunity to know, I mean really know, that religion and faith were just something created by humanity, would you want to know and would it change the way you live your life, teach your children, etc..."

The short and sweet answer is, no, it wouldn't change the way I live my life and raise my children, because I've grown up with my faith my entire life. It is 100% a part of who I am, and thats not something I would just be literally able to forget in a heartbeat.

God asks us to have 'simple faith'. Simply believe that he loves us more than any human on earth could possibly love another. And believe that he wants what is the absolute best for us, which is a perfect life in Heaven, with no pain, no tears, no crummy stuff.

To specifically pinpoint why I believe what I believe isn't something I can just put my finger on. It's an on-going transformation that God has done and is continuing to do on the inside of me. Something God is doing on the inside to constantly remind me that I am NEVER alone, and that I am SO incredibly loved.

While so many on earth can disappoint, hurt, and shame us, it's such a comfort to know that we have a PERFECT father, friend, and confidant in God to rely on.

I have seen God do absolutely beautiful things in my life! I would never be able to deny someone who has literally saved me from the very darkest pits of myself and proven time and time again that he IS LOVE. The very definition of it.

I hope I have somewhat answered the question for you Carey. It's the hardest question I have honestly ever been faced with, and I didn't in anyway want my answer to turn you or anyone else off of the beauty and grace that is God.

Thanks for putting me on the spot! :)

Yowza!!

Yesterday was my 100th post! My brain was too spent to attempt what I did with my 50th, which was to tell you 50 random things about me. I would probably start making things up, and while that would be fun for you, it just may get outta hand.

That being said, I got this rockin' idea from Don Mills Diva (fabulous read by the way): Ask me a question. Any question. Well, anything short of my SS# and/or the meaning of life. Although I'm sure I could come up with a pretty convincing answer for that one....
ANYWAY, just leave your query in the comment section below and I'll tell ya anything you ever wanted to know about me in a future post.

Sounds like fun, right?? OH you have no idea. If you happen to leave a question regarding my bowels, just be prepared to read an entire post dedicated purely to that. Because you all know how much I LOVE to talk about my poo.....

Kiss This!

Livie has been TOTALLY enthralled with the idea of 'kissing the baby' lately. Any open shot she sees to my tummy and she is all over it. CUTEST thing ever.

Well, a little while ago after smothering my chubby tummy with slobbery kisses, she then pointed to my heart and asked if she could give Jesus a kiss in my heart. I smiled and said of course. So she planted one right on my heart and then leaned back in with her mouth right on my chest and yelled at the top of her lungs:

"YOU'RE WELCOME JESUS!! OK, GOODNIIIGHHT!"

Seriously, could I BE anymore in love with this child??

One of MANY 'duh!' moments in my life....

Anyone who knows me well knows I'm a *total* Target/Walmart/Ikea whore. No, I'm not making sweet love in the toilet paper aisle, I'm talking about how GREAT I am at finding SAWEET deals and creating an aesthetically pleasing home out of my many finds.

Well yesterday, I actually got out of the house. Yes, I know, pick your jaws up off the ground. It's true. No really!! Ask Megan!

Megan, tell them! Tell them how I was even half way presentable-I was showered, blow-dried, and *gasp* had even painted my face a bit!

So there I was, out and about, shopping a nearby outdoor mall. Now, I'm not talkin' out door K-mart here people, I'm talkin' up-scale shopping, where a mini espresso is nearing $95 and a pair of mens underwear is, well, you might as well just give them your first born....

Lo and behold, we come upon a pretty popular home furnishings and kitchen/dining/livingroom accessories store. While paying my right leg for an incredibly gorgeous hurricane vase sounded extremely appealing, I thought, no, I'll just LOOK. You know, that walk-around-and-browse-with-no-intent-of-buying thing that us women do so well.

Our Dishwasher as of late seems to be ingesting our silverware. Much like socks in a dryer, I SWEAR way fewer utensils come out of there then originally were put in to be cleaned. So imagine my surprise when I come across some INCREDIBLY priced silverware sets in the kitchen area of the store. I'm talkin' some AWESOMELY heavy silverware for 18 buckaroos. So here I am, GIDDY from my crazy good find, thinking I have fooled the money Gods once again, and I pranced up to the nearest associate and told her which set I was interested in and she asked me 'ok, how many settings?' I replied nonchalantly with 'oh, just the 5 setting thing like it says on the tag'.

Ok, here's where I felt the need to crawl under the nearest $895,000 rug and hide: She replies back with this I-am-so-embarrassed-for-you look on her face 'oh, well, the price is for EACH place setting.'

Oh.

So I saunter back over to the display mumbling something about 'ok, just let me look a little more then' and as soon as the coast was clear made the nearest exit.

Turns out the sign said $18 for a 5 piece setting, and my dumb ass read that as $18 for a 5 place setting.

And THAT my friends, is why I'm not let out of the house often.

Put yer earmuffs on

Have any of you ever seen the movie 'Old School'? Specifically the part where all the guys are in the kitchen, along with one of their toddler-ish aged sons, and anytime a curse word is about to enter the conversation, the dad of said son says 'earmuffs' and the son cups his hands over his ears to refrain from hearing said curse word?

We got the biggest kick out of teaching Liv at a super young age that same trick, (earmuffs, not cursing) whenever a questionable word was about to pop up in the conversation. You know, words like: Butt, shut up, crap....
We would laugh at how quickly her hands would fly to her ears the instant 'earmuffs!' left our mouths. Oh the good old days....now we can't get her to shut up about 'ouch, My butt hurts! Will you kiss my butt?!' *sigh* You choose your battles people, you choose your battles. 'Butt' just isn't one of them. Now 'whore', thats a different story. I think if I were to EVER hear that word come out of her mouth, (in the midst of suppressed giggles) I would slap that child to next Tuesday. Oh now don't go calling Childrens Services on me. You'd do it too.

Ok, but back to 'Earmuffs'. I'm going to go ahead and pull that word out of the bag tonight for any male readers I may have, because what I'm about to say is, well, none of your business and may be considered slightly inappropriate. Of course when am I NOT inappropriate? Don't say I didn't warn you.

EARMUFFS!!

All I'm going to say, and I know you ladies feel me on this one, is that I've suddenly realized that my belly is not the only thing growing with this pregnancy...

HOLY TORPEDOES BATMAN! Where did these come from? And where have they been all my life? These puppies certainly could have given a gal a little self esteem at 13 when my chest was flatter than my back....

Oh the joys of a miserable pregnancy.

It's a virtue? Really?!

So there is this little thing I like to call 'patience'.

I say little, well, because I've never been one to carry a whole lot of it around with me.

I often am so discouraged with my lack of patience with Olivia. From her point of view, being a toddler is a whole new exciting world for her. Our days are filled with questions, giggles and jumping. Up and down. All. Day. Long.
Lately, this momma, in her nasty, pukey state, becomes this boring grumpy blob whose only known word appears to be 'No'. No wonder she appears to have been fed crack by the time Daddy walks in the door at the end of day. HOORAY! Someone FUN to play with!

My lack of patience has already transferred to the newest little one. Who the crap thought to keep these kids in their mothers bellys for 9 FREAKING months before making their appearance?? I'm only 8 weeks along and ready to punch myself in the face from discomfort. I'm ready to put together the nursery, ready to buy clothes, ready to send it off to college...

John and I came up last week with the greatest idea EVER. Why can't we just grow this baby the rest of the way in a big jar? That way we could wave at it whenever we wanted to, we could feed it a couple times a day like we would a fish, with tasty little flakes. John said it would be like our very own little sea monkey.
I think it's a great idea.

The Doctor didn't seem quite on board with it.

I don't think she took us seriously.

*sigh*

Ya wanna rock?!

For his birthday last week, I got John Guitar Hero III for his XBOX 360.

I know, best wife EVER, right here....

That being said, I recently discovered that I have the most hard-core, head-bangin', kick ass family on the planet.

Case in point:



Yes, I do realize that my 2 1/2 year old daughter is flashing the 'rock on' sign.

*sigh* this momma could be more proud *tear*

Yes, I really am pregnant.

Here are a few pics to scratch that itch that I know you've all had about seeing my belly. My enormously too-huge-for-how-early-along-I-am belly.

I'm alive....

This will be brief, not much say.....

Had our big appointment this morning, and it turns out, we are not having twins.

Actually it turns out I'm not pregnant at all. Turns out I just couldn't put down the ho-ho's and doritos and it took a bit of a toll on my mid section. I'm just fat.

PSYCHE!! Totally joking. Sorry that was mean.

The morning started VERY early for me. My appointment wasn't until 8:30 but for some reason my anxiety decided to wake me up bright and early at 6. NO ONE in their right mind should be up that early. I guess I'm not really in my right mind though, am I?:)

I was having CONSTANT panic attacks all day yesterday and this morning, and just came to the decision that I COULD NOT go through with the actual exam part of the appointment until I talked to the Doctor about upping my dose on my medicine. I COULD NOT attempt this on top of all the anxiety I had been dealing with the past few days, and come out mentally ok. So, feeling slightly dissappointed in myself, as the nurse asked me to dress down and cover with those sheets that I SWEAR they wash with steel wool, I politely asked/told her that I just wouldn't be able to do the exam today. She sweetly smiled and told me that was just fine.

A short time later, my awesome doctor breezed in and smiled and said 'you don't think I expected to do an exam today, did you??' hahaha oh how I love that woman. She proceeded to tell me that she didn't want me to worry that she was going to harrass me at every appointment about getting it done, and that if we didn't end up doing one at all this pregnancy, then that would be ok. Would it have been weird if I had kissed her right then and there? Yes? Ok, well I didn't. I really wanted to though...

We carried on with all the other appointment crud: questions, questions, blood pressure check, more questions. And.Then.The.Time.Came.

It was time to see that precious little being(s) that I've been 'lovingly' growing for sometime now.

We piled into the ultrasound room and as soon as the wand was placed on my belly, I couldn't stop myself 'IS THERE MORE THAN ONE?!' I blurted out. Well, she proceeded to look around, and to quickly put Johns mind at ease, she said, 'nope, just one!'. PRAISE THE LORD. I'm pretty sure John blacked out for that quick second, but he seems to be fine now.

Best part of it? Remember how big I said I am getting already? I'M ONLY 8 WEEKS ALONG. What the crap. Fan-friggin-tastic. C'mon.

Anyway, turns out we have the CUTEST child ever grown by a human growing in my belly at this very moment. With a heart rate of about 171 bpm and the body length of a kidney bean (about 2cm), we grow 'em pretty cute around these here parts. 171 bpm! No wonder I'm so darn tired all the time! whew! Looks like our due date is: September 27th. HOORAY for a LONG, HOT summer! Blech....

Thank you for all thinking of me and praying for me today. These last few days I have had the most random people come out of the wood work to let me know they are praying for me and thinking about me. God is truly at work in my life, and I feel so blessed to be surrounded by so many wonderful people. Thank you thank you thank you. :)

Oh, and I guess you are all interested in how Liv took the news, huh? :) Before we left this morning, we sat down and told Livie why we were going to the doctor. She was a little more interested in her cheerios. But, once we told her that she would get to see it on the tv at the doctors office, she perked right up about it and seemed pretty excited. I think it looked a little different on the screen than she expected. At one point during the appointment she layed back on the table where she was sitting with me, lifted her shirt, sighed loudly, and informed us that she too had a baby in her tummy. Black out #2 for daddy.
As we were leaving the doctors office, Liv let me know that she was ready for the baby to come out of mommys tummy now so that she could rock-rock it.

You and me both, kid, you and me both.

Few thoughts for today

A lot of people do not believe in prayer, or the power involved in it.

I, on the other hand, whole-heartedly believe in it. I especially believe in it when a person is so down, so grief-stricken, that they are at a point physically, emotionally and spiritually where they are incapable of praying for themselves.

Thats where I am at right now.

These past few days, in preparing for my first prenatal appointment tomorrow, I have been literally unable to make my mind go there. Unable to sit and simply think about the fact that I will be getting (or attempting to get) an exam. In fact, simply typing that makes me physically sick and near tears.

Today I've been dealing with my heart racing to unreal speeds and sweaty hands and bouts of near blackouts. We are talking MAJOR anxiety attacks.

Today and tomorrow are those times that I talked about where I'm literally unable to cry out to God myself, and need you, my dear friends to call his precious name for me. I can't even begin to pray, because that means I have to be thinking about what tomorrow holds. I can't do it.

There are going to be some really neat things happening tomorrow-Liv will finally know shes going to be a big sister, and the three of us will finally see this sweet little being growing inside me-but all of those things are COMPLETELY overshadowed in my mind by the fact that I will be up on the exam table attempting to do what I dread most in the entire world.

Please keep me in mind today and tomorrow. I know God loves me. I know I am his precious daughter and as my mom says that 'he adores this little baby inside me'. I know that he will be with me holding my hand on the exam table tomorrow. But my mind and body believe such totally different things. My mind and body make this fear so real.

I'll get you all updated after our appointment tomorrow, and if you are lucky, I may even show you a picture of this little peanut growing inside me!

Laugh: you know you want to

To celebrate the randomness that is my poo, I thought I'd tell ya a few jokes:

These are great.

You will laugh.

And if you don't, well, you are weird.

I'm just gross like that.


Joke #1:

Q: What do you call a vegetarian with diarrhea?

A: SALAD SHOOTER!!


Joke #2:

Q: What does a math teacher do when he/she is constipated?

A: Work it out with a pencil!

HAHHAHHAHAHA!! Freakin' hilarious.

And there, my friends, is a little glimpse into the life of my ever changing bowels.

Yeah, I said it....AND WHAT.

My newest Love affair:

John surprised me on I heart you day with this glorious piece of stuffed fabric:

The Boppy full body pillow.

He was either genuinely feeling sorry for me in my uncomfortable state, or just wanted me to shut up in the middle of the night.

I've been in near tears every night due to how incredibly uncomfortable I am laying in bed. Constant tossing and turning, shoving pillows here and there, wrapping my legs around John, unwrapping my legs from Johns when I get too hot....it is a never ending battle. Every. Night.

But NO LONGER!!

I had a pillow similar to this when I was pregnant with Liv, and it was my savior, I tell you, my saving grace!! I used that puppy beyond my pregnant days until it could be used no more, and then it got tossed. But now, my days of sleeping like a Queen have returned! Wahoo!!

Move over John, Boppys in town, and she's here to stay!!

My Funny Valentine

So there is this guy that I'm like TOTALLY crazy about on this Valentines Day, and it just so happens to be his birthday as well.

I'm going to blog-celebrate by telling you 26 things that I just love about my hubby on his 26th Birthday/Valentines Day:

* I LOVE his great sense of humor.

* I LOVE the fact that I can be SO stupid around him and not have to worry about him looking for another less stupid beauty to take my place.

* I LOVE the fact that he loves video games-even at 26, married and being father, it shows he's still a kid at heart, and I find that so endearing!

* I LOVE that he's the more romantic of the two of us. Lord knows if it was left up to me to plan a romantic evening, we would be sitting on the couch picking our noses all night.



* I LOVE that he laughs at me, even when no one else gets my weird comments or 'funny' jokes.

* I LOVE the incredible father he is. I honestly could never have imagined anything better for my child(ren).

* I LOVE that I can count on him to rub my restless legs in the middle of the night when I ask, and he doesn't even grump about it (out loud anyways hehe).

* I LOVE that he will watch a girly movie with me if I really REALLY want to, and he will even admit to liking some of them ;)

* I LOVE when he winks at me.

* I LOVE that we really don't like a whole lot of the same things (movies, books) but that we are both SO totally obsessed with the show LOST.




* I LOVE that he gagged when my water broke in the hospital with Olivia. I still die laughing about that to this day.

* I also LOVE that he cried when Olivia first came into this world. It is one of the very few times I have ever seen him cry, but by far the most meaningful.

* I LOVE how he will go to the store 8 times in one day for me because I'm sick and I remember '1 more thing' that we forgot to get the last trip.

* I LOVE how he never once has complained through this pregnancy while he has taken care of Olivia, cooked dinner for himself everynight, and cleaned up around the house everyday.

* I LOVE how his absolute favorite part of the day is when he walks in the door and Livie comes running screaming 'DAAADDDYYYY!!'. He says he looks forward to that all day, and I think thats just cool.

* I LOVE how he likes the fact that I've got a little extra junk in my trunk.

* I LOVE how he loves my family like they are his own and how comfortable he feels around them.

* I LOVE that I can discuss my bowel issues with him and he doesn't even die of embarrassment, but just laughs. *sigh*

* I LOVE being able to remember him in Junior high and how embarrassed I was to hold hands with him.



* I LOVE how excited he is about being a Dad again.

* I LOVE having so much history with him AND

* I LOVE knowing he'll be around for a real long time :)

* I LOVE the fact that he's just as happy with mac n cheese and wiener wraps as he would be if I could whip up steak and potatoes every night.

* I LOVE that it's more important to him that we have the things we need than getting a big new TV.

* I LOVE that we shared that special year and a half living in Las Vegas together right after we got married.

* Best of all: I LOVE that he loves me for me. That he thinks I'm perfect just the way I am.

I'm so blessed to be married to my best friend. I just wouldn't be me without him.

I love you sweetie. Happy Valentines Day and Happy Happy Birthday!

You are the ABSOLUTE love of my life!

Twice the fun??

I've mentioned before about my middle of the night visions of sugar plumbs, I mean Twins, dancing in my belly.

I've mentioned about the fact that my tummy seems to have just exploded over night-No, I don't mean the 'd' word (diarrhea)-I'm talking about how incredibly HUGE I seem to have grown in my middle region in just a matter of hours. WAY too big, it seems, for a mere 2 1/2 months along.

I may have even mentioned that already, at 7 or 8 weeks along, I felt the baby kick. Many times.

What I have failed to mention to you, my faithful readers, is what occurred Monday Morning....

One Monday a month, my daughter and I are lucky enough to attend a MOPS group here in town. For those of you that aren't familiar with this little Momma get-together, MOPS stands for Mothers Of Pre-Schoolers. It's a cool 2 hour slot for moms of children who aren't yet in school to get together-childcare provided-for fellowship, food and friends. Every week we start out with announcements: Who's got a birthday this month, Who had a baby since last time, any prayer requests, and, who's been impregnated since last month.
Anyone? Any takers??
Oh yeah. ME.
Just little old me is the only unfortunate soul to be dealing with the morning sickness wrath.
SO, I reluctantly raise my hand amidst the 'awww's!' and 'yaay's!' and they ask me to come forward.

Evidently anyone knocked up since last time has the fantastic opportunity to blindly draw a candy bar out of the bag which will in turn predict the fate of their womb.

Oh Joy.

I picked a Twix bar.

Twix=twins

Shoot me now.

The Master Plan

After taking note of a few measurements with a GIANT tape measurer that she found only God knows where, Livie just informed me:

'hmmm. This house is too too big for me. I need a little little house for me. A tiny one.'

Okaayyyy...so you are saying the whole set-you-up-in-a-dog-house-on-the-back-porch-and-lock-the- back-door idea that I had really may work out afterall?? SWEET.

My wheels have been a turnin' since discovering that little thing I like to call my child in my belly. We live in a 3 bedroom 2.5 bath townhouse with a 1 car garage. PLENTY of room. IF John wants to give up his play room. Which by the way he has NO problem doing. We have a giant master bedroom that with a nice little screen divider could easily be turned into Johns XBox room/our master bedroom. He's so selfless like that.

BUT, I have an even greater plan. If this child in my belly has been able to survive just fine through my stomach bug, my not being able to eat a thing, and 2 bouts of dehydration, he/she-once born-should do just fine sharing a nice bed of leaves under the front porch with Liv, right? Think of the things we could do with 2 EXTRA BEDROOMS!! I could have my very own scrapbook room! OOH! OR a room completely dedicated entirely to Diet Coke.

No?

*sigh* Fine.

DON'T go calling childrens services on me. I'll give them their rooms.

I would have at least given them a blanket or two....sheesh.....

Reason # 1,328,942 as to why I may or may not be the best mom on the planet

This could totally go both ways.

About a week ago, my favorite mommy in the whole world, my very own mother of course, brought me a whole big grocery bag of easy-on-the-tummy treats to ease her daughters hellish stomach issues.

Amongst MANY other things, one item included in the sack of goodies was a giant bag of Dum Dums. There is something about suckers/hard candy that seem to calm the inner intestinal storm. Not sure what, but they just get the job done, no matter how subtle.

This morning as I'm laying on the couch wallowing in my own self pity and trying to remind myself WHY I let that man, I mean my precious husband, do this to me, I decided to get my pregnant self a nice cherry Dum Dum.

We've got Mickey Mouse Club jammin' in the background and Miss Olivia still in her PJ's bouncing around the living room and I think maybe, JUST MAYBE, I can sneak one out of the bag and consume it's cherry goodness before she even blinks.

I was wrong.

*GAAASSSPPPP* MOOMMYYY!! WHAT YOU GOT?!?! ohhhh a sucker!! Can I have a sucker please?! Oh yum! What kind you got mom?? What KIND??

*sigh* sure Liv. You can have a sucker.

So sue me. I'm letting my daughter eat a sucker at 9:15 in the morning while still in her pajamas, having not even changed her diaper yet today.

0 points for Abbie
1 point for all the other PERFECT mothers all over the world.

Whatever.

Who wudda thunk it??

After last nights fan-frickin-tastic episode, I became curious. I said 'Self, what Lost character do you most resemble?'

Ok no.

Really, I just found this on someone elses blog, and being the obsessive fan that I am of the show, I decided to play along....

Which Lost Character Are You?

Created by BuddyTV

*GASP* How did they know about my british rock star past?!?

a pregnant womans crack

No, my pants weren't hangin too low today, and my girls weren't exceptionally perky....I'll explain it to you all in a minute.

I KNOW I said that my next post was going to be a sunshine and flowers kind of post for a change but ya know what?? BITE ME. I can post whatever I want because this is my blog. So here's just one more little not so perky update....

*na-na-na-na-na* (I'm sticking my tounge out at you)

I had not felt ONE LICK of dizziness today. (I can't believe I just said 'lick'. Doesn't anyone really say that?) Anyway, Isn't that AWESOME? God knew I was so worried about this new medicine, I think he really helped it go to work in the best possible way in my body.

I must have forgotten to mention the no-pukey-feeling thing in my bedtime prayers last night though.

Today I had a bout of nausea/sweat/tingles worse than I had EVER experienced them yet. I actually (and I'm not kidding this time) I actually found myself sitting on the pot with the garbage can in front of me, with my head in my hands PLEADING with God to please, if I'm going to throw up, just let it come, I know you are with me, but PLEASE just make it better one way or another because I can't do it anymore. I even actually called my mom from the bowels (pun intended) of the bathroom to see if there was any chance that she had lunch hour soon, so she could come make Livie a sandwich, because I realized I had been in the bathroom a VERY long time and there was NO hint I would be leaving anytime soon. I had never felt so disgustingly sick in my entire life.

Finally after a few courteousy toots, (I know thats gross, whatever, quit reading my blog), I groped my way back out to the couch and flopped myself down. (not before grabbing a giant bowl to catch any flying goodies of course. Out of my mouth. In case I vomited. Just wanted to make that clear.) I realized that anytime after a long no-talking streak, if I wanted to say something to Liv, I had to actually unstick my tongue from the roof of my mouth-It was SO dry. Thinking back I remembered I woke up all night last night taking sips of water after unsticking my tongue from said mouth, but I figured that the dryness was just from sleeping with my mouth open. *what a pretty picture*

I realized I was in fact dehydrated again. YES, I've been drinking fluids (as much as possible, which isn't much without it coming halfway back up my throat), but I HAD been sipping ALLTHEDAYSLONG.

Ok, what to do? Call the Dr. and die of dehydration while waiting for them to get back to me next week on whether or not I should go in or do something different??....or....pack Liv into the car, drive her down the street to the sisters house, and get my butt over to the ER to slur in only the best way my dried out carcass can that I think I would like some fluids pushed into my bone dry body?

I called the dr, but only waited about 20 minutes only to not hear back and chose the latter.

It is AMAZING what those silly IV's do for you. I swear whatever is in them is like crack cocaine to dehydrated people all over the world. I felt SO much better. Still sicky sick in the tummy, but WAY toned down from what it was this morning.

*This just in*

This morning I noticed a little firmness in what I have lovingly referred to as my spare tire for the last year or so. Yup, it appears I can safely say I MAY be showing a bit, and not just chubby like I was yesterday. Just let me think what I want you jerks. I'M SHOWING!! I JUST KNOW I AM, OK?!? :)

Also, still feeling *fabulous* on this new medicine. The only downside is that it really knocks me out, so I will try and get it switched around to where I take it at night instead of the morning. I'm nervous about the things Liv could do to me while conked out on the couch. Yikes....

ok! sheesh....

Just a little update of sorts, so I don't leave ya all wondering. That just wouldn't be nice of me....

My Nursey friend finally called back YESTERDAY AFTERNOON and said that the Doctor decided she would in fact like to change my medicine. WAAHHOOO! :)

So, just sitting this morning trying to get some crackers in my tummy before I take it.

Please please PLEASE as you go about your lovely days today, say a little mini prayer for your dear, frail, and slightly unstable friend Abbie. :)
I'm nervous to start something new, even though it should work great this time around. I'm just so darn tired of feeling horrible all.the.time. Sometimes you get to a point where you are so exhausted, and so dragged through the mud, that it's nearly impossible to pray for yourself. So some help on that end would be crazy cool.

And if you aren't into the whole praying thing?? Well...build a bridge and get over it, because this girl desperately needs all the prayer she can get and we have an AWESOME God who grins when he hears our beautiful voices call out to him!

I PROMISE I'll think of something just gee-golly nice to write about later on today-permitting of course I'm not hobbling around making monkey noises and foaming at the mouth after taking these.

You never know. It could happen.

I'm really not crazy.

I'm going to write a nice post today.

One that has NOTHING whatsoever to do with Busy Doctors or Nursy Nurses. One that has nothing to do with a certain someone who may or may not choose to use the big girl potty on any given day. One that has nothing to do with my bowels or any other bizarre 'pregnancy symptom'.
One that has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I really am seriously terrified of the dr.'s office thinking I'm a hypochondriac, therefore, not returning my calls because 'she's just crazy'.

Nope. I will talk of none of those things today.

Today will be different.

I just don't feel like it yet. But maybe a little later. :)

Wha??

In the words of Beth Moore: "I don't want to be Queen Compalainy from the Hawhiney Islands but..."
....but ya know, there is only so much a girl can handle. And a girl with crazy emotional issues at that. C'mon. Give me a break.

I made another whiny phone call to the doctor today. Again, it's the dizziness people. The morning started out great! I was a little nauseas and dizzy, and body kinda sore, little bout of the runs, but other than that, feeling pretty darn ok. Then over the course of the morning the dizziness hits me like a freight truck.

I feel like it literally swirls my body around super quick then drops me and leaves me with numb, sweaty hands, and a CRAZY HARD couple heartbeat thuds. Sometimes I'm left actually taking purposeful slow, deep breaths to catch my breath. It was scary to me. I didn't care if I was going to look like 'the crazy pregnant lady' who calls all the time. I just needed to figure out how to make it stop. It scares me! I haven't been able to drive for about a week because of being so dizzy, I worry that at this point it may not be the safest mode of transportation for Miss Olivia and I to get around-of course, maybe it WOULD make for an entertaining afternoon...NO, no, drivings NOT a good idea....

Anyways, the nurse finally called me back and I described, again, my symptoms in detail.
Her first question was this: Have you noticed this started since switching anti-anxiety meds after finding out you were pregnant?

*sitting with my mouth open*

This is how I would have liked for the next part of the conversation to go:

Me: Really?? Did you really just ask me that??
DUUHHHH! How many times have I TOLD you that exact thing over the course of this hell I have been enduring these last weeks?? How many times have I told you I really felt like they didn't work during my last pregnancy and that this time I just really felt like they weren't taking care of the anxiety like they should be either?
If I recall correctly, Miss Nursey Nurse, YOUR response to ME was that it wasn't anxiety I was experiencing, it was 'the pregnancy hormones'.
I have an idea my Nursey friend: I'll SELL you these pregnancy hormones at an incredibly low price, just because I love you of course, and in turn you can forget this embarrassing-for-you conversation ever happened and I totally won't hold against you the fact that I would rather shove the precious hormones into the toes of your shoes and let ME tell you that the reason you are walking with this incredibly awful gimp now, is 'just the pregnancy hormones'.

Nursey Nurse: Abbie, that sounds great. Your check is in the mail, along with some REALLY great drugs, and you know what?? Call ANYTIME day or night, and I will personally be at your doorstep ready to help. With Popscicles.

Nope. This is how it actually went.

Me: YES. (very firm but pleasant yes) Yes, without a doubt, they started once I switched meds.

Nursey Nurse: (after a few other questions) Ok, well, I'm definitely going to go talk to Dr. I'm-popular-so-i'm-busy, and get back to you about those meds. That worries me that they aren't working, and maybe we need to get you on something else.

Me: (scowling at the phone) Ok! That would be awesome-Thank you so much! I really appreciate you calling me back! (with an honestly appreciative tone to my voice)

The end.

UGH. WHY WHY WHY am I too nice?? Thank you?? Who says thank you to someone for not listening to them in the first place?? ugh...I really need to work on my mean face or something. Scare the dickens outta them next time. Then maybe I'll get the REALLY good drugs....

Check, please!

John and I sat down and did our taxes last week. After doing so, we came to this conclusion:

The government should REALLY consider doling out an extra tax credit for those parents that seem to be having an exceptionally hard time potty training their child/children.

Think of ALL the freaking millions of extra diapers we OOPS I mean Americans in general are having to buy for their children who just flat out refuse to use the potty.

Think of all the Americans out there who are dealing with extra emotional stress due to the simple fact that their child/children are on a "NO POTTY!" strike. Can you see the little picket line? Can you see it?? TRUST ME. It's there.

I just can really see this extra tax credit be so beneficial towards our therapy fund in the future.

Can I get an 'AMEN!!' ??

Just a picture kind of day

Here are a few highlight pictures from the day we found out baby #2 was on the way...




Livie and John


If only she knew I peed on those earlier in the day.....


Dad is SOOOO excited!!

Sweet baby Jesus!!

Approximately 2.5 years ago, I was being wheeled down our local hospitals' hallway, in horrible labor pain, and full of anxiety (surprise surprise) about the hours to come. A lady in blue scrubs met us on our trek down the hallway towards L & D, and hurriedly showed us to our 'suite' where we would soon be welcoming our precious bundle of joy.

I immediately hated her.

I hated her for the simple fact that she was insinuating that I, Abbie, the one who has NOTHING to do with this kind of stuff, would be delivering a child through the single orifice that I actually wished never existed at all. After all, isn't that what got me into this mess in the first place?? This nurse, whom I was SURE wanted nothing but to see me in the most horrific pain possible, turned out to be the shining light in an incredibly scary time for John and I. She quickly became our angel in disguise.

She got us through it, no matter how horrifying it turned out to be, and she hugged me afterwards and told me she loved me and she proudly held my new baby up for a picture.

Since that day two and half years ago, we have continued to keep in touch, through Christmas cards and pictures and other family members having babies in the same hospital.

We love Nurse Jan.


This morning I was Horribly sick. I mean so sick that I was almost lethargic. I'd had it, I would call the doctor-ANY freaking doctor who happen to be on call on a Saturday-and I WOULD BE SEEN IMMEDIATELY.

After taking one glance at me after getting to the office, and after running a few blood pressure and pulse checks, it was unanimously decided that I was severely dehydrated. And not only incredibly dehydrated, but I've got a flu bug to boot!

Awesome.

I was immediately admitted to the hospital and sent up to L & D triage to be pumped full of fluid for hours on end. BUT, who met me in the hall to finish wheeling me the rest of the way up there and tend to my every need?? NURSE JAN!!

I nearly cried. Actually, I think my exact slurred words to John were: Maybe God doesn't hate me afterall! :)

I'm now home after chilling at the mommas house where she so lovingly cooked my family din din (well, the other two of us anyways, this momma still isn't eating much), and feeling amazingly better. As I just described to my friend AJ, I still feel pretty darn crappy, but I have to remember, that that does go along with being pregnant and having the flu.

I'm feeling like part of the reason some of my nausea has vanished is my lack of some anxiety now. I think I was so tired of no one at the Dr's office believing me on how real this horribly worrisome mind of mine was. I was tired of them thinking that all this nausea was purely preggo hormones, and not the anxiety I deal with regularly. Until today. When I went in and met with this Doctor today-whom I have never met with, mind you-I felt like he REALLY got it. He looked at me and told me to my face that I'm not crazy and what I'm feeling is really really real. That anxiety REALLY is that debilitating. He also believes I have a bit of post tramatic stress disorder stemming from my last labor experience. He got it. He got me. He BELIEVED me.

Between this wonderful doctors reassuring words today and a perfectly needed hug from my favorite nurse/angel in the whole world, a truly horrible day (few days, really) ended up being an ok day.
I like to think of things like that happening as "kisses from God".

My most hated friend: Anxiety

Anyone who has or has dealt with anxiety knows what a completely overwhelming and debilitating thing it can be in your life.

My mom recalls that even as a toddler, if my socks didn't feel 'just right' I would completely fall apart. And trying to get me to make a decision about ANYTHING?? Forget it. You might as well have assumed that I was medically unable to do so, and just made the difficult decision your self whether or not I would like to buy the red shirt or the blue shirt. The good thing is, I would almost ALWAYS be pleased with whatever decision YOU made for me, just as long as I didn't have to make it.

Geez.

Lock me up now.

Since coming to the conclusion as of about 2001 that 'hmm. Could there be something clinically wrong here??', I have been saved by medication.

*everyone breathe a sigh of relief now*

*ahhhh*

Becoming pregnant in 2004, while *so* exciting to our little 2 person family, it was also the most terrifying moment of my life. I would now have to face those things that horrify me the most and cause my anxiety to rear it's ugly head back into my life.

I would love to be able to share those things on here, and while I like to think of my blog as a bit of a journal, I feel this is the LAST place I want to share such things-being as everyone from here to timbucktoo can read and laugh/squirm/shake their head about it. Just wouldn't do good things for those anxious tendencies I so lovingly talk about. Maybe some day.

In my first pregnancy, my OB switched meds on me, being as the one I was on wasn't proven to be safe for pregnancies. Ok, fine, no biggie. Wait. YES BIGGIE!

Anyone who knows anxiety knows that one makes themselves physically sick from worrying about things.

Playing around with your precious meds on top of your already nauseating pregnancy hormones =pure hell. I was sick THE ENTIRE PREGNANCY.

So, here we are, pregnancy #2 (which I swore would NEVER take place in a million years), back to where I was with pregnancy #1.

I'm so so sick.

I called and requested maybe a DIFFERENT anti-anxiety medicine today, seeing as I felt the last time I was 'knocked up' it didn't work, and it appears to not be working again, but I was told to 'ride it out' for 3 weeks.

oh. ok. NO PROBLEM.

I have found, in addition to being REALLY sick from the pregnancy hormones shooting their bastard faces through my body, I'm also HORRIBLY anxious, which in turn is making me unbelievably physically sick to my stomach.

Are you still following me? Have I scared you off yet? *sigh*

Over the span of the last few days, I have slowly learned that while I should be getting as much quiet rest as possible, I CANNOT go lay down unless I am so totally DEAD TIRED, otherwise I will lay there and worry myself literally sick. One of the biggies, like I mentioned before, is that I'm SO terrified of throwing up. And when I lay there in the quiet and think to myself 'oh my gosh, am I going to throw up?? Is it coming now? I'm going to die if I do!!' I get sicker. And so begins the vicious cycle.

Man, I really am a basket case, aren't I?

I do honestly realize when I sit and think about it (which I don't like to do for too long), that I WILL NOT die if I throw up. Whats the worst that would happen? I would throw up. I get that, I really do. But my mind takes over and makes my body feel like I really will die if it happens. I don't consciously believe or think that, it's just the reaction my body has.

I'm dreading labor. Thats cool. Labor isn't fun, duh. But my mind is so overwhelmed with the fact that I would rather deliver this child through my left pinky toe, than through my hoo-hoo, that I then get sick. Again.

And so begins the cycle. Again.

Oh to be a fly on the wall of my mind, huh? I promise you, it would be the most terrifying horror flick to ever be seen.

I called this morning and in addition to requesting that my meds be changed, I also BEGGED and PLEADED with the receptionist at my OB office to PLEASE have the nurse call me and to PLEASE call something in for this horrible nausea-the nausea that has taken over entire days and left me with nothing in my tummy but a few rumblies. EVERY LITTLE TINY THING I EAT IS GOING RIGHT THROUGH ME.

They called 7 hours later.

And hadn't asked the Doctor about anti-nausea meds.

Oh joy.

So, here I am, home alone because my sweet hubby thought he would give mommy some awesome quiet time while he took Liv to the giant electronic store nearby.

STILL.WAITING.FOR.DOCTOR.TO.CALL.

Aren't ya glad you all decided to read my post today? ;)