Notes on Week 38

Okay, internet, if you have been following along, you know that I am not a giant fan of pregnancy. And you might also remember that my first one was full of fun and craziness. You know, with losing my job, fighting with Medicaid to even get prenatal care and then just feeling generally miserable for THE WHOLE EFFING THING. I have been lucky this time. Baby O hasn’t given me nearly the amount of physical agony that Baby L presented me with during my pregnancy. You know, until NOW.


Now I am not sleeping because, between trying to maneuver this giant belly and keeping Baby L from actually sleeping ON MY FACE, I have barely enough time for that sort of shenanigans. Sleep is for the weak, they say. They do say that, right? Anyway, if this is true, then I hereby declare myself, The Incredible Hulk of Insomnia. I do not turn green, though.

Except, wait. Yes, I do. Yesterday, I was taking out the trash and something smelled really awful and I turned green, and hurried and puked in the bathtub. Yep. 38 weeks and still puking. I guess there just wasn’t enough of that in the beginning of this whole thing for it to be over.

Then I took 45 minutes to effortlessly (read: with great effort and discomfort) ease on my maternity pants and haul my giant ass to my 38 week check up. Where I was told that nothing had changed. I am still pregnant and will remain that way until the time should come wherein…I am no longer pregnant. The good news is that my doctor praised me about my weight gain (only 17 pounds, which feels more like 850), which, you know, made me hungry.  And when I realize that I am hungry, I usually do so because MY CHEST IS ON FIRE.

The heartburn has returned. And with a vengeance. I am not a fan. I am not a fan at all. I can’t even drink WATER without wanting to kill myself. Water = sandpaper. Bread = fire. Hot sauce? Well, hot sauce is expectedly hot. But since I love it and it has the same effect as ANYTHING ELSE EVER, I eat it. Have I mentioned to you, internet, how before I was pregnant, I got heartburn like ONCE PER YEAR and now I have it 36 times per day? No? Oh. Well, yeah. That’s what is happening in my esophagus. You’re welcome for the enlightenment.

Baby O is officially kicking me in the ribs. This is the kind of discomfort that one can never describe to someone who has not experienced it. I never had this experience with Baby L and, up until two days ago, had not had any trouble with Baby O. But now, he loves my rib cage. LOVES. That’s all I am going to say about this. Because it is so annoying that I feel like if I talk about it too much, it will happen again and I will either cry or punch something. Or both.

I am WAY too emotional. I have cried three times today and two of the three times were about nothing. I mean, probably not nothing exactly. But definitely stupid things. Like, that I didn’t have any more bottled water in the refrigerator and all that was cold was Dr. Pepper which, (if you can IMAGINE) gives me super bad heartburn. Then I decided, since my mom had my kid for the day, and my husband was out doing man things (or getting a massage. Yes. Seriously.) I would finish watching “Sophie’s Choice” (because I have this fascination about WW2 and the Holocaust and things of that nature, because I am a total dork and that stuff is interesting) and then I watched Meryl Streep have to CHOOSE between her CHILDREN. And then I had a breakdown and felt the need to punch a German soldier. Luckily for them, there aren’t many German soldiers around my neighborhood. And MB wasn’t home. (Sidenote: I did have a flash of the diploma that hangs on the wall in the house of the old man that I take care of sometimes that states that his middle name is Adolf. But I didn’t punch him either. Come on, that would be mean.) I am tired of crying for no reason. And I am tired of wanting to punch imaginary Nazis. (I mean, I would probably want to do that anyway, but I am WAY too serious about it today.)

(Another sidenote: Is there some reason that “Beaches” is ALWAYS on? I mean, I loved this movie when I was a kid (which may also be weird, but my best friend loved it too…) and I have a really hard time NOT watching it when it is on but how many times can a pregnant lady watch “Beaches” without sticking her head in the oven? Honestly.)

Also? The PEEING. I cannot stop peeing! That is all.

My point, internet? I am SO READY to feel like a normal person again. But I am SO NOT READY to have a baby. I just need a pause button. And that pause button should not only pause the progress of this pregnancy when pushed, but sort of make the pregnancy nonexistent so I can have beer. You know, until I push play again. I swear, I would push play again, you guys, I just need a break. Then I would need a bring me beer button. Because that would come in handy forever.



You Get What You Need…

You might remember, internet, that a year ago on the day after Thanksgiving, I announced my pregnancy to the masses on Facebook and was promptly fired from my job two days later, without any warning or reason and after just having received a merit raise. If you weren’t around then, you can read about it here. I’ve been thinking a lot about that time this week because I remember how scared I was and how lost I felt having worked for this company for 3.5 years and having done so much for those assholes, just to be treated like I was disposable. And right after they found out I was pregnant, no less. There is still NO DOUBT in my mind that this was a case of pregnancy discrimination. And I’m honestly not bitter about it because I know that Karma is a bitch. But mostly, I have more to be thankful for than I did when I was working in that horrible place, busting my ass for a bunch of fucktards. (Pardon the language. But if you knew all of these people, you would totally agree…there are really very few words that fit them…and the other ones are worse than fucktard.)

I am so grateful this year. For the first time in a long time, I feel genuinely lucky. Yes, things have been a whirlwind of insanity for the past year. And yes, sometimes I want to stick my head in the oven. But that is pretty natural for people, I think. Sometimes shit just sucks. But it doesn’t last forever. And overall, I feel like I have more to be grateful for than I ever have before.

First, I am so grateful to be a stay at home mom. It sucks that I lost a job that I was really good at (albeit unappreciated) and it really isn’t cool that I was left high and dry without insurance and a baby on the way. But that worked out. And, in return, I got to (finally) get rid of two people who have been sucking the life out of me for over ten years. And I got rid of a place that was doing the same thing. And now, a year later, I get to spend my days playing with, teaching, laughing with and loving my dearest creation. Baby L. And I wouldn’t trade that for anything.

Second, I got to marry my best friend. I can’t imagine anything better than that. I am eternally grateful to him for being ever-the-optimist and showing me that, despite my catastrophe fantasies, things do work out. And sometimes, they work out better than if you had stuck with your original plan. He’s lightened me so much (even though it may not always seem like it) and made me a happier, more optimistic person. Despite the crazy.

Third, I am so, so, so grateful for my family. I have had so many trials this year. SO many things that have not gone the way that I wanted them to go, but every single time, there was someone there to help me through it. Monetarily, emotionally, whatever. And I never even knew they cared that much. This has been a giant eye-opener to me. And I am humbled.

Last…but DEFINITELY not least, I am so grateful for my daughter. The love of my life. My everything. Without her, I think some of the trials of this past year would have gotten the best of me. But when I look at her and know that I am not living for myself anymore, that I am doing the most important job there is by being her mother, everything is not only all right, but it is totally worth it. I am grateful for being given this gift, even if she is a gift I didn’t know I wanted. Because “you get what you need”. And I am so grateful for this love that I never understood before she showed up.

So, thank you, universe. You have changed me. And you have made me better. And life is good.

Happy Thanksgiving, Universe.

Like a Boss

Who's the Boss?

Who’s the Boss? (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Being a stay-at-home mom is really never anything I wanted to be. Mainly because the idea of having kids sort of scared/repulsed/annoyed the bejesus out of me in and of itself. And then, you know, there’s the whole cleaning up after everyone, feeding someone all the time, changing diapers…you know…that stuff… But you know, being a SAHM is sort of like having a job . And I love it. Like, more than any job I’ve ever had (it is up there with the Activities Director position I had at that nursing home where I got to play BINGO with Alzheimer’s patients for most of the day, but really, that wasn’t much different than having kids. And it was a BLAST.) But sometimes, internet, I just wish I had a JOB. It isn’t like I don’t currently have a boss. I have one. It’s just that she’s two feet tall. And she drools. You know, more than most bosses.

There are really a lot of things I miss about working. And some days, having no contact with anyone who can have a conversation can be a little overwhelming. And frustrating. But I mean, when you think about it, work has it’s share of ridiculousness that I don’t miss too.

At work, my boss could feed herself. I have to admit, this actually does shock me, considering what a fucking idiot she was. But she didn’t need me for that. Luckily.

At work, I didn’t have to change my boss’s diaper. I can’t really comment on whether or not she wore diapers. But if she did, I am sure they were all designer and stuff. Because she was fancy. (Read: really effing pretentious and horrible.)

At work, my boss didn’t cry when something didn’t go her way and didn’t need me to console her. However, she did not know how to use a fax machine.  And she did tend to call me from across the building to fax things for her on a regular basis. And the fax machine was literally FIVE STEPS from her office. So…there’s that.

At work, my sleep didn’t get interrupted because someone had gas. There are a few reasons for this. The obvious one is that I didn’t ever get to sleep at work. Because, obviously, they wouldn’t let me do that. And the other was because at work, other people’s gas was not my problem. Now, other peoples’s gas is most certainly my problem. And it causes crying.

Sometimes I think that in a few months, maybe I will get a part time job to just…get out of the house for a bit and talk to adults. But then I reconsider. Because adults are…well…not always all they are cracked up to be. And who wouldn’t want the opportunity to stay home with their spawn? Even if it IS a harder job than anything else I’ve done…



One Year Ago Me…

Okay, so after my last post, Ande asked what the ME from one year ago would say if she read it. And that’s a super good question. Because I don’t even think that today me would be friends with one year ago me. And not because that me wasn’t a good me, just that THAT me? Well, she didn’t want kids, she had toxic people in her life, and she was too stubborn to admit that she had everything in the world already that she could ever want. It sounds super cheesy. And THIS me, she knows that. But THIS me also knows that One Year Ago Me spent a little too much time worrying about everyone else and not really considering that everyone else didn’t matter as much as…well…ME.

A year ago, I had a job that I loved, but that made me feel like I was wasting my potential and running in circles. I was constantly overworked, underpaid and grossly underappreciated and I put up with it because…well, One Year Ago Me was sort of a moron. But that job, however ridiculously insane it made me, helped people, and at the end of the day, made me feel good. The people I worked for/with, on the other hand, were pretty much the worst. (And, as you know, they later proved that.) One Year Ago Me took my job home with me and considered that job to be one of the most important things in her life. FAIL.

A year ago, I was friends with a bunch of selfish people. I spent years and years being there for them through deaths and births and things that I, too, experienced, but received little to no support from those people during. I placed these people over family. Because I didn’t have a great childhood and I didn’t feel like many of my family members really gave a shit. And I felt like my friends would be my family if ever I needed them to be. Turns out, they were horrible, selfish people who would disappear when things in my life got tough. FAIL.

The one place One Year Ago Me didn’t fail was with MB. It took a while to get somewhere in my head when we first started dating that I didn’t feel like something was going to get screwed up. And I had to deal with that for a long time. One Year Ago Me was celebrating her one year anniversary with MB and finally accepting that something was going right. And One Year Ago Me was a pretty happy gal in that respect.

The moral of the story? One Year Ago Me was concerned with being the most knowledgable at work, the best friend she could be, and coming to terms with being a live-in girlfriend. But she was, in no way, wanting to start a family. Because that girl didn’t really think that family was all that big a deal.

Today Me knows differently. Today Me has the best relationship with her mother that she has ever had. She is unemployed but she feels like things will work out and that, the asshole move that her former employer pulled, might have been kind of a blessing. Has the best relationship she has ever had. And now, has this beautiful daughter. Who lights up every, single moment of every single day.

So, to answer your question, Ande? It doesn’t really matter what One Year Ago Me would say. Because she had a dumb job, selfish friends and was too scared to do something that really meant something. She was kind of a fucktard.

In your FACE, One Year Ago Me. Your friends are assholes and you’re gonna get fired.

Kind of a Big Deal

I know many of my readers are pregnant ladies ad many of you are aware that I was terminated from my employment just two days after announcing my pregnancy. I urge you to PLEASE read! Pregnancy discrimation is alive and kicking. Help stop it!

Come Check out Our NEW Site!

“Tina,” who is pregnant and works as a health aide in a nursing home, is told by her doctor that she should not lift more than 35 pounds.  Her job description requires lifting 40 pounds regularly, but lighter duty jobs, such as answering the phone and working at the reception desk, are available.  Nevertheless, her employer stops scheduling her for shifts and tells her she must take unpaid Family Medical Leave, which would run out before the delivery of her baby and leave her without the income she needs to pay the 50% of her medical insurance her employer does not cover.  Left with no choice, Tina loses her job.

“Jessica,” who is pregnant and works as a pharmacist’s assistant, needs to sit down occasionally throughout her day.  Chairs are available for customers, but the pharmacy does not permit the staff to use them.  As a result, Jessica loses her…

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On a Serious Tip

If you follow this blog at all, then you know that I lost my job of nearly FOUR YEARS just DAYS after announcing my pregnancy on Facebook. I have spoken with a LOT of people regarding pregnancy discrimination over the course of the last few months and today, found this article and thought it was VERY informative. I tried to reblog it for you, fellow preggos but was unsuccessful, but please check it out. Pregnancy discrimination is a real thing. A real, terrible, thing. 

Share your story or input on pregnancy with the EEOC here: