Buy me Some Peanuts and Cracker Jacks

Written July 19, 2010 So I feel like I might have just spent the weekend in a time machine. I played out the last of my own personal ball season... not because I'm ready to stop playing at all- or because I'm too pregnant or too hot or too big-- because I've realized I'm too sensitive. My "alone time" team (aka the team I play on without Jay or Abby) had its final tournament this weekend.. I was the "coloured" person drinking from the wrong fountain and pissing in the wrong bathroom. I stood up to bat to be bantered with comments like, "hey strike this one out- she counts for two outs" I stepped out of the box to politely ask what was meant by such a comment- and then I promptly struck out... in slo pitch. I was privy to many a "YOU"RE CRAZY" or "WHAT IF SOMETHING HAPPENS comment that I just stopped responding (attempting to point out that every time I move or leave the house I am in some kind of danger) A former teammate also told me, "with all due respect- you're asking to be mistreated- look at you" and then he continued to imitate me saying in a high pitched whiny voice (since we all know that's how I talk) that if I didn't get to play I'd sue the city. No such words ever exited my lips- though I wouldn't have hesitated for a second to file a human rights complaint. I bumped into an old friend from highschool who discovered that I was the pregnant women "everyone" in the league was talking about. In a place where I usually feel so comfortable I felt like an outsider being shunned... sneaking off into the bathroom to shed a few tears with dignity and then hiding behind my sunglasses. I've put up with muttered comments by people on my very own team- I can see if I was standing out there knitting fucking baby booties that it may be an issue- but I can still outrun and outthrow and outplay many people-- and this underhanded, "well we worry about your baby" bullshit is done- I don't tell anyone to stop maowing on a snickers because I worry about your weight- it's not my fucking business.. I know I let this break my heart for far too long- but by far the shady comments that started at the beginning of the season have made this my worst season yet. I spend too much time feeling ashamed to be me- someone who in the past I feel like I should be proud of- questioning my ability to mother this baby because I supposedly put him in harms way-- when I've admitted to five different doctors that I've still been playing ball twice a week and not one of them even blinked an ounce of concern... Maybe now that this is over for me... we can name the baby- buy a stroller and paint the kids' room.. maybe in a few days I'll shake off the weekend and the season as though it never happened.. maybe I'll even consider going back... though pretending to be okay with people's comments and judgements is very challenging- I know I'm letting it suck too much of my energy. It's at times like this when I wonder how I would deal with the world if I wasn't a blond haired. green eyed caucasian woman... I'm hoping this will open my eyes to my own stereotyping and discriminating thoughts- In our world it's very difficult to be 100% PC- but I also believe in my hurt little heart, that very few people even TRY to be politically correct.. Playing out this season has helped me rediscover trust in my body after my miscarriage- I am healthier than my last pregnancy and experience far less discomfort (okay- well I have MAJOR heartburn). I am thankful for the handful of people who supported me and continued to love me through my "bad mother" choices... I am strong and sturdy and if I'm able to carry a human life- I'm able to catch and throw a ball- and if you're that concerned about my well being then why don't you offer to just hold the door open for me as I struggle through with a toddler and 7 bags of groceries.

it's just called caring

Written May 8, 2010

So, here I am, the eve of the day dedicated to our mothers-- and I'm sitting at home in my pjs- contemplating silence.... my new version of "livin' on the edge" is eating greek salad this late at night just hoping to avoid heartburn like a 19 year old hopes to avoid a hangover. Jimmy Fallon wrote his "thank you" notes last night.. and it went something like, "thank you- Mother's Day- for being just like Father's Day but you're the one people actually give a crap about" I laughed out loud- woke Jay up for a brief second- and then settled down- okay.. it's not that funny- but it's kind of funny- maybe to me especially because I'm lucky enough to have a great relationship with my Mom. Today will be a hard day for her- it would be Wes' birthday- it's the first to pass since his untimely death last June- we are all waiting for the trial of the drunk driver who killed him coming in September. This is one of the many hurdles she has had to move through, over, beside in her life... It's cliche- but to me, my Mom represents strength. I wasn't a nice teenager- I judged her and "hated" her and called her names (I know Abby will get me back) but as I grew older I actually started to realize everything she had been through and had done had been- and sitll is, for us, her children- and now grandchildren... Stuck it out through a shitty marriage- divorced twice from the same man- my Dad- but wanting desperately to make it work to avoid having to continue living on welfare as a single Mom of then two- taking a crappy job (literally) at a chicken farm so that she could be home for us when school was out- teaching craft classes because we could enroll for free as her kids- doing my paper route when it got too cold- coaching softball when she had no clue-- taking out small loans to buy me a fancy flute- I could go on and on... As my sister grew more and more sick- my Mom held it together the best she could- waiting for Cara to either get better- or die-- patiently by her side- me over a thousand kilometers away- at the time I resented it- but now- having a baby of my own- I get it... The three of us put my Mom through SO much- we still do (I have a sister in University- you know those crazy college kids) but she never stopped loving us- she never stopped trusting us- never judged us-and she never stopped trying to make things all better so that we wouldn't be heartbroken over anything. Again the cliche that my Mom is my role model- but in so many ways she is- at 51 years old she graduated with distinction and now holds her Child and Youth Care Degree with a Specialization in Child Protection--- her heart broken and her life torn apart by a stupid man who decided to take away her husband's life- Wes' estranged daughter who wanted nothing to do with him for EIGHTEEN years is all of a sudden interested and fighting for his estate- unanswered questions- the what ifs and how comes-- I only wish I had the strength to help my Mom get through this- I know if the tables were turned.... I need more training- and more of her strength- I can only help in bits and pieces... I keep telling her to put herself first- but that's one thing she doesn't have in her-- she can't help herself- and I want to step up to the plate and just force her to for once- but for a tiny little thing she is very very strong.. I hope all of the Mommas out there have a wonderful day tomorrow- I hope you have a Mom to look up to- or a Momma figure to thank for all you've learned and taken away to offer your own children- and the the women who don't have children or even want children- I hope you have a wonderful day tomorrow- and that someone appreciates the maternal instinct that you have within you- I think as women we're all strong- and even those who feel they are anything but maternal-- you have those instincts in you- it's just called caring- This Momma has to go to bed- heartburn and all with tiny baby kicks and my weary mother tears... preparing myself for a lifetime of Momma years- and trying to muster the strength to be half as strong as my Mom has been for me...

Pregnancy- Liability

Written May 8, 2010. The reason I've been feeling so angry is below.. my feelings have been hurt... and not just because i'm hormonal- because I'm a human- and I don't like being called a bad mother- and I don't like people believing that I am intentionally putting my baby at "risk". I'm not an idiot... there's no sliding or diving or throwing myself in front of bullets- I'm smart and as any mother is- baby gets protected first... and remember- this is a NON contact recreational sport- we're not playing for money or medals or even recognition- it's called fun. I've been told constantly to keep active this pregnancy- and that I have- I've gained half as much weight in the first 19 weeks compared to with Abby- my blood pressure is perfect and I feel good.. still cranky mind you... I don't have a social life any more outside of toddlers (and their amazing Moms) or work- this is my alone time to do just for me... Jay's laid off I make pennies an hour- I don't have the funds to go to prenatal yoga for a shocking $150 a month... let me play... I'm not asking to deliver my baby on the field and then go up to bat- a few more weeks until I FEEL it's time to stop- until I make the choice. I'm not an idiot.. don't treat me like one- and stop spreading rumours about me throughout a league where I know no one- how do people I don't even know know I'm pregnant-- I've never met them! I didn't make a Poco Slopitch League pregnancy announcement... I refuse to back down... this is my choice.. I will put my career choice to work in my personal life- and be my own advocate...sure my voice may waiver as I listen to discrimination and "liability" concerns- but I'm not the only person to struggle with this kind of thing- sure maybe my degree is less- but I'm good at my job... and I'm not backing down. May 4, 2010 To the Executive Board of the Poco Slo Pitch League, My name is Amy Mazzone and I currently play on The Fireballers in B Division of the Poco Slopitch Softball league. Often you’ll find me back catching or playing first base- and you may or may not notice that I am pregnant. On May 2, 2010 I was approached by XXX XXX and half heartedly informed that I would “have to stop this soon”. At first I had no idea what he was talking about until he poked me in the stomach and said that “today’s game was just for fun” and then stated “when his team plays my team I would no longer be playing”. I informed him there was no such rule and or limitation in our league rules and I would continue to play in the league until I made the decision to stop. Mr. XXX insisted that it was “in the rules” and I had no choice in the matter. This happened during a double header in the middle of the second game when I was “in the hole” and waiting to go on deck. I had made arrangements with my team for a sub half way through so I could make it to work on time- I called my sub in early and informed my team I would be leaving- this occurred after I ran the bases and scored a run for my team. I was doing my best to hold it together- as a strong woman who makes her own decisions I was in total and utter shock that a stranger, stating he was bearing the news of the “executive committee” would speak to me the way he did in the middle of a game. As I was visually upset Mr. XXX took it upon himself to attempt to continue delivery of his message. During this time I was told I was a “liability” to the league and to “think of my kid” and “what kind of mother puts herself in such a position” (playing slo pitch while pregnant). These statements along with being referred to as “honey” enraged me not only as a woman and a mother, but as a human being. I could not believe that something as important as being essentially kicked out of the league was being handled in such an utterly unprofessional, condescending, chauvinistic manner. I can appreciate that some women would choose not to continue playing a sport or doing certain activities while pregnant- in my opinion that is their choice and a decision those women would be making themselves along with the support and advice from their significant other and their physician. However, I have made the choice to continue playing a sport that I love and am good at. My doctor is fully aware and in support of my choice and has informed me that so long as I feel comfortable playing I am able to continue to do so. My physician trusts that I am of sound mind and body and this being my second pregnancy she trusts that I will listen to my body and play within my limits. I am not a child who missed a day of school due to being ill but if you feel the need to have written permission from my doctor for me to continue playing I will get a doctor’s note. I must have missed the memo informing pregnant women that carrying a child makes them a “liability”. I feel that I am no more of a liability than someone who chooses to play with a persistent knee injury or asthma. I would only assume, and I would assume that you feel the same, that those people are making the choice to play within the limits of what is appropriate for their bodies. And speaking of bodies- what about older people playing who have trouble running the bases and take a runner as soon as they reach first base. I understand this is allowed according to league rules and those people are simply playing within the limits of what is appropriate for their bodies- but how can I be called a liability when I can make it around the bases without any assistance or trauma to my body or my baby. One could say that someone who is overweight and smoking and drinking at the games is a heart attack or stroke waiting to happen- but I don’t see anyone asking them not to play. Any of the players in your league could have a myriad of physical or mental disadvantages that do not get addressed and/or accused of causing them to not be able to play- simply because they are not seen: ie there is no visual “belly” that allows other people to “call them out” (of play). I understand that you quoted my team manager, D XX, in a response to an email he wrote on my behalf, SPN rule 5- The Players, Substitutes and Re-Entry Section 5- The Pregnancy Rule. I understand this rule to be applicable in tournaments to be professionally umpired by carded SPN umps and/or if someone feels I am a “detriment” to their performance- ie. a player informs his/her team that they refuse to play on the field with a pregnant person- which to me is utterly ridiculous and runs along the same lines as a player claiming they refuse to play on a field with a player who is physically challenged or is of a specific race or sexual orientation that makes other players feel “uncomfortable”. I am aware that the Poco Slo Pitch League does not write the SPN rules but I would like to add that I plan to address this rule with Slo-Pitch National as well for the reason that I feel it is simply discriminatory. It is also my understanding that there is no reference to defer to SPN rules in the case that the Poco League rules do not cover and issue- and as we as a league or team do not have SPN insurance I don’t understand how we can be expected as players to assume that we would make such a deferment if a rule or player is called into question. For that matter there are plenty of happenings on the playing field that are not SPN “approved”, for example simply the wearing of jewelry while playing. It is my hope that Mr. XXX did not deliver this “message” verbatim as to what you may or may not have already discussed but I feel like you should be aware that the delivery of this “message” was highly unprofessional and insulting and if it was to have come from your executive committee I feel you should be re-thinking your delivery of such “messages” and treat people with dignity and respect. I have never in my life experienced such discriminatory comments with regards to my own body. My body belongs to me and I will not be told what to do and what not to do with it. I believe in my argument with Mr. XXX I asked him if he thought I should be pregnant and smoking crack rather than playing a recreational non-contact sport. I can imagine that the women who make that choice for themselves and their babies are not often told what to do with their bodies- but rather judged by society in silence. I would rather you, as an executive board, sit and “judge” in silence and not tell me what I can and cannot do for myself and my child. And speaking of silence, Mr. XXX mentioned that their had been “talk” about my bulging “liability” I find this very interesting as there have been zero concerns brought forward to me, as the bearer of the bulge OR my coach or team manager. I would be interested to hear the complaints and “concerns” raised and feel it is my right to be aware of such complaints. In short, I have enjoyed playing in this league very much- both pregnant and not pregnant. I appreciate the diversity in the players and the teams and I respect the enjoyment that people of all shapes, sizes and capacities get from being able to exercise and the companionship they get from team comradery. Thus far I haven’t been witness to any discrimination on the fields no matter what the physical capacities of each teams players- unfortunately this past weekend I was a victim of the discrimination I was so happy had no place in this league. I would like to know immediately and in writing how you plan to proceed. I do not wish to be “called out” again mid game on the playing field. I wish to be treated with respect and dignity and like a human being rather than some “poor hormonal woman who must not be able to think straight”. I feel I deserve an apology for the official- or unofficial “heads up” I was given by Mr. XXX. Most of all I would like you to know, and understand that I wish to continue to play until I make the choice to stop. I am an intelligent woman- I consider myself to be a wonderful mother to my two-year-old as well as the baby I carry inside me and to have my abilities as a mother called into question in public by someone who doesn’t know me from Eve was one of the most insulting incidences I’ve ever had to deal with- that being said, this incident hasn’t changed my love for a game I’ve been playing since I was seven years old and I want to continue on with my team until I make the choice to stop playing. Kind Regards, Amy Mazzone 4308 Pender Street Burnaby BC V5C 2M6 604 267 6512

Thank you for Bein' a Friend...

I just came home from dinner with two of my oldest friends... I hadn't seen either of them in months. Literally- they felt like they'd been shot back in a time machine to when I was preggers with Abby because I've only been showing my big belly in public for baseball games and work... I've been a hermit. The most wonderful thing about old friends- is the ability to not skip a beat... sure I've missed out on dozens of social events and the day-to-day of both of them- but after 10 minutes I was up to speed and so were they- and to me that is one of the best feelings in the world, it brings me out of isolation- if even just momentarily. It is these times that make me feel a little sad that I've missed so much but also so grateful that during that time- not much has changed.. and nothing has changed between us. Every now and then I come to the realization that I am in fact, getting older. I keep thinking of the time before I finally went back to college- every day I would walk to the gym and prepare myself for my introduction to my classmates, "My name is Amy, I'm 25, and I'm here because I want to help people..." There are times, often, when I'm stuck in my head, and I relive that little speech- only I have to remind myself that I'm now 30 years old. I don't feel like I should be "30" could be because I'm no further ahead than I was when I was 25 but I think there's more to it- plus I do believe that age really is just a number. I find that having Abby alone my schedule is very limited- but add in a work schedule that starts at 4pm when everyone gets off work and throw in the fact that I work every single weekend- my schedule is even more limited.. meeting my friends is not only logistically challenging- but I'm often exhausted (all that growing a human stuff) and there are times when I feel it's been so long that it's just too much "work" to try to catch up- especially when I only have 2 hours before I turn into a pumpkin... Then I go- and I realize how much I needed it.. and how good it makes me feel... and hope I can remember that feeling the next time I'm feeling so low that anything short of eating a brick of fudge feels like it isn't worth it- friends are more enjoyable and less likely to stick to my ass. I do love that with my schedule comes the benefit of the "new" (not so new!) friends- Mommas with babes the same age as Abby and the understanding that I don't have to explain to them why I want to rip my hair out at 830 am because they get it- yesterday they felt the same way- I enjoy the closeness of talking a few times a day about trivial things (but they don't seem trivial at all really to us- a potty poop is a big thing!) and I like knowing that someone will check in on me because they know at 830am I was about to snap- I love how the simple offers of a coffee play date or chat can instantly lift me- because to me they are not so simple. I recently said to Jay that I don't really have any friends outside my neighbourhood now- and that's just not true. I was being a pouty baby, bound by our brokeness, my work schedule, being a mom and growing a human- thinking about it now I am a very lucky person- because I've been able to form relationships that allow me to pick up where we left off- friends who have had beautiful children I've never met- I feel like I know those kids- and like because of the bond I have with their parent(s) I am bonded with them... I like to think I attract good people because I can be good people too- a little horn tooting here... friends I can call and cry into the phone after months of not talking- friends I can poke fun at because they remember that-time-that-we-did-that-thing, friends I can count on for unbiased honest advice- and friends I can count on for some nice sugar coating and reassurance- I have accepted that I'm no longer the social butterfly I once was- no longer the girl with the funny drunk face who danced the night away- I have other interests- other responsibilities that though not everyone understands- I think they see the importance of those things in my life- and at least try to understand.. tonight meant a lot to me.. being able to smile about the past- and accept that my future is now different- but be content that no matter what it looks like- somewhere out there I'll always have a friend...

All You Need is Love...

I swore up and down that when I got pregnant I would write more about it this time- so that when my kids asked me questions about pregnancy- I would remember. Obviously I declined to take my insane schedule and extreme exhaustion into consideration. Meh.

I feel good... my back is sore as hell and I wish I could just snap all the pain out of it- but that's not happening- my feet aren't swollen this time like they were with Abby (yet), my blood pressure isn't that of an obese 60 year old man's (yet) and so far my nose isn't swollen to the size of Mrs. Doubtfire's (yet). I do however have the same abundance of weird skin tags (or "gross" as the little girl on the commercial describes them), my feet are a bit bigger (but I don't look like a cabbage patch doll)( yet)) my back is killing me- I repeat and forget things (obviously you've noticed that if you're paying attention), I have serious heartburn from the weirdest things- if they say heartburn means baby has lots of hair- I wonder if my boy is a werewolf, and I'm cranky and tired- moreso than usual... but like my pregnancy with Abby I truly do love being pregnant.

I love the little- and not so little- kicks and rolls... I love how my book bounces when I'm reading in bed- I love how every day I wonder what it will be like to have a little boy. I knew when we found out Abby was a girl instantly how I would feel about her... it sounds weird but I wonder what it will be like to breastfeed a little boy- I'm sure exactly the same as a little girl- but there's just something instant about a mother-daughter bond- for me at least- I think that's only because I grew up only surrounded by women! I am so looking forward to seeing what this little guy looks like- he will be the first in my immediate family- the first boy! I'll betcha a million he's a handsome- smart- caring little bugger.

It's funny- the old wives' tales- his heartbeat is low- matching up with the lower the heartbeat the more likely it's a boy- and I'm carrying pretty low (so I'm told) which I think is the reason for my sore back! I was told the other day I looked radiant (by a good friend.. so as much as I love her with all my heart- she may have been lying- I think I look like the "penguin" from Batman).. I can't remember the other wives tales- I know I have to get that string and wedding ring out.

We can't decide on a name- I know- we have time- but with Ab, we just knew she'd be Abby! This guy- well.. we have a few picked out-- maybe we'll be more conventional and actually see what he looks like before we name him! I want something different- but not weird enough for him to be called a freak- or anything that rhymes with a veneral disease... we want it to be strong yet kind- and as special as we know he's going to be.

Abby seems to be adjusting well to my "big bewhey" as she calls it.. she rubs it and says, "hi baby Miwee!" If you don't know Baby Millie is Abby's friend Sadie's little sister- I remind Abby that it's her baby brother in that big bewhey- and she replies with "yes- my baby brother will come out after my nap" ha! Everything happens after her nap! She knows he has to stay in there because "he's still growin'". She tries to wear the little sleepers we have for him- and picks up his teeny clothes and squeals in a high pitched voice- "oh it's sooo keeeeyyyuuute!"

I feel like all of a sudden my time with Abby is so limited.. realizing of course that this little guy will be a bit of a time stealer for a while- I worry I won't have as much time to love her. Every second I see her face it hits home- I understand so deeply just how much I love her-- it's more than I ever could have thought- imagined- dreamed of. Even through this stage of "2" when tantrums and fits are too often- I look at her and I see just how determind she is- how smart she is! I laugh at her innocence and sillyness- her abilty to remember the oddest things-- and how she calls everyone "buddy" as in "that buddy at the playground hit me on the head at the car because I no sharing with him- but that's not nice buddy". I can barely handle her talking to the baby through my belly button or her telling me my "pits" are all "crean and sparkry" (clean and sparkly) when I get out of the shower- or how she giggles and tells me my legs are "prickery" or how she gets SO excited to watch Mommy and Daddy play baseball- or watch any baseball for that matter!

I love to listen to her tell her teddy bears stories- or how she bosses them around- or how her toy tells her to "press the button!" in a happy voice and she yells at it saying, "NO I"M TOO BUSY!" I love how she ride the vacuum when Jay is home- or how she goes for airplane rides- I love how excited she is to see me in the mornings when I don't work exclaiming, "I love it when my Mommy's home!" I love how she bargains and never fails to ask to watch one more episode of Max and Ruby (MAAAAXXXX??!) or how two books really means three- I love it more than anything when she says, "I have to just snugga my Mommy". Her eagerness to learn is tiring but in my heart I know she is just curious and wants to learn to be independent- watching her mimick me or Jay is the best thing- or today when she sneezed and sniffled and snotted everywhere but wanted to continue helping me plant in the garden- I said, "you're breakin' my heart!" and she replied- gingerly touching her chest saying, "I'm breakin' my heart too". I love to go into her room before I go to bed after a long night at work and see her face so peaceful- mouth exactly as it was when she was a baby- I love to kiss her cheek and tell her I love her more than anything--

And then I walk by the mirror and rub my belly- and assure my baby boy that I love him more than anything too... and to stay in that belly and grow grow grow.

I worry everyday about my pregnancy- about my baby- my family... I worry about post partum depression and how I will feel after labour- will I feel empty like I did before? will I be sad that this will likely be my last pregnancy? Hopefully not- because I do know I plan to be a lot more prepared- aka let's hook that zoloft up to my IV Dr!

It's been a rough year for Jay and I- for my family and his just in general... we have been clinging to the little things- when we can- and dwelling on the big things more often because-- they're big I guess. I know more than anything though, that we are bringing this baby into a family that knows how to do one thing right- and that is love... so whatever happens I will rely on that to keep us afloat... it's worked so far.

Almost... what?

okay.. so it's been a while.. months actually.

At first I couldn't write because I knew I would spill the beans... then.. I was too nauseous to write- then too tired- too busy- too depressed-- there was always something. Truth be told there still is- because right this very second I am STARVING... but told myself I needed to write before I can have a snack.. maybe bread and peanut butter?? Mmmm....

So. It did happen for us- I am 15w5d pregnant right now- and we are so thrilled-- well, Jay is thrilled... I have spent the last 4 months being scared shitless... I found out about beanie 2.1 on January 20th- I had an appt scheduled with my dr. for the 21st because 4dpo (days past ovulation) I started spotting- this can be a million things- but one of those millions is that my progesterone level could have been low- causing me to 1. not ovulate or 2. not be able to maintain a pregnancy--- well... I saw those two beautiful pink lines and nearly died of happiness... I saw my dr. the 21st- then again 2 weeks later in tears with anxiety- she booked me for an ultrasound at 7w4d (beanie measured 8w1d) just to make sure there would be a heartbeat-- well.. around 4 days before my appt. I started spotting-- everything was fine at the ultrasound but I didn't breathe for four days... I could barely move consciously- but I made it through work and life- a ball of knots...

4 weeks later I started to spot again- it lasted for a week-- I was a mess- by this point I could find beanie's heartbeat on the doppler I rented- but I still couldn't relax-- my cervix was checked- all looks good down below- my "numbers" were great-- I still could barely breathe- I had an ultrasound again at 12w1d and there was beanie- measuring 12w5d... a perfect little human with a nose, lips, fingers and toes- I have never cried so hard with relief...

Finding the heartbeat now is a daily ritual for me- I wake up- get Abby- and she puts the doppler on the lotion and we "listen to Mommy's belly" That beautiful sound of a galloping horse and little kicks and twirls is the perfect way to start my day-- and it is reassuring-- but I can still barely breathe.

I did not openly tell too many people about being pregnant right away-- not because I'm superstitious-- or because I'd keep a loss to myself (we all know that isn't happening-- see previous blogs!) but.. because I didn't want to feel sad again when people, my friends, just didn't "get it". I realize now, there is no "good" thing to say- and nothing anyone says can make it better-- but it is still disappointing even though logically I know it's not possible for people to understand (unless you've been through it yourself). I couldn't go through that again.... but that perfect looking beanie was too much to keep to myself... plus- I seriously look like I've either been chugging beer for 3 months or like I haven't pooped in 3 months..

I have relied so much again on my Momma friends- the Burnaby Heights Milfies who have all "been there" I struggled so much with every period and ovulation strip that I think they know more about my lady bits than anyone does... but patiently they listened and problem solved and let me lean on them-- and now- patiently they listen to my insane anxiousness and bring me muffins to eat through my tears and write me words to ease my fears... I am eternally grateful.

My coworkers have also played an integral role in me staying out of the nuthouse- as you know my job is that of a "helper" which is handy because it means I work with other "helpers" and "listeners" and though none have never been in my shoes- they humoured me and helped me and patiently waited for my rants and worries to drift off into actual work.. I can't say enough about the amazing group of people I work with. Maybe I sound desperate calling coworkers my close friends- but I've debriefed thousands of dollars worth for free with them...

My Dr has been amazing.. noting my crazy stress rash as I go in to see her with questions I already know the answers to.. she humours me as well.. patiently- along with the staff at her office and the on-call docs... she has been honest with me since my first visit- there are no guarantees until the baby comes out- but for once she has thrown helpful statistics my way. I look forward to crying in her office into her sympathetic blue eyes and her gentle voice which always tries to soothe me.

I have never had anxiety this bad- and for what? I'm a smart girl- logically, mentally- I know- I can't do anything to stop anything that is "destined" to happen- if it's going to it's going to- but I am terrible at being out of control- and that is exactly what pregnancy is... it's a hormonal mind fuck- a body fuck- and a soul fuck! But I take all of those symptoms in stride in hopes that it means the beanie is healthy and growing fine... I don't think Jay will want any more kids after this beanie- because I have been a serious basketcase... he has also been patient with me- often saying nothing because he knows my irrationality and he knows no matter what comes out of his mouth I will likely bite his head off- I apologize frequently for my distance and my craziness.. he takes me in stride as well. He looks at my hands which I have washed raw for fear of getting sick- and passes me the hand cream..

Abby is starting to notice my belly- and since our close friend just had a "baby in her belly" Abby points and says, "NO BABY MOMMY'S BELLY!" and then she asks to see my belly- just to make sure there's nothing in there- this of course makes me paranoid she is a crazy psychic baby and she knows something might happen (yes, I am currently THAT irrational). As the time approaches we will tackle this with Abby-- truth be told this past week I thought someone stole my girl and dropped a little asshole in her place- one who argued every single statement on the planet, one who kicked and screamed and wouldn't go to bed, one who said "no Mommy snuggle Abby" but, looking back I wonder if she is staring her sibling rivalry a little early? She is smart- but is she that smart? Well.. the asshole left anyway and my nice little lady is back- well.. my little farting lady whom likes to snuggle Mommy and who has been staying in her bed without kicking anyone for days.. I hope she sticks around a while longer because she's going to make an amazing big sister.

Things have not been perfect since I got my Birthday Wish- they are challenging and difficult as usual- I've continued to struggle with depression and have the internal battle about upping my placebo dose meds just a little (at my drs recommendation) but I'm not ready yet- I am still conscious- and aware- and have been utilizing (over using) my resources- Jay lost his job- though we have recently heard it does look like he'll be returning to work (fingers crossed) I've been working like a dog and with Abby's new waking hour I'd be exhausted even if I wasn't pregnant and hormonal- things at my job are challenging right now- as I kind of struggle with my pride and integrity- and I'm disappointed in the imbalance in equality there-- but I still love the work as much as ever- it's just not perfect.

Being pregnant has made me realize even more that even when you get your perfect wish- it will never just make everything else go away- there will still be imperfections scattered madly about in life- it's frustrating and agonizing--purely exhausting... I'm sick of struggling- of searching for sanity-- but I'm not ready to give up- once again I may just have to dust of my compass and change course- and settle for my perfect imperfections and begin my journey towards just being content.

Looking for Positives...

Well, 2010.. you're nothing special so far-- but you're also not the worst thing to ever happen to me.. let's keep it that way shall we? Things have been crazy. I've been wanting to write since I rang New Years Eve in at work- no wait! I got off early (pun intended) and was able to ring in the New Year with my husband (insert cliche fortune cookie ending here: in bed). Since we started dating in 2006 this was the first New Years we actually rang in together "together".. as in he wasn't calling me at midnight from Baltimore, or waking me up at midnight for a little kiss and to breastfeed Abby- or calling me at work.. I made it home... and old friend used to tell me that you can gauge your year based on the events of your New Years eve- if that's the case, 2010 should be allllright. I don't really know what to write about. Things are the same.. I'm still yearning for a baby and pretty much ready to sacrifice it all until we can get pregnant again. Attempting to decipher the ways of my uterus and other lady bits has been quite the adventure. I have a feeling that things are settling down a bit-- I hope.... I still worry about the length of my luteal phase and whether or not I have enough time for an egg to implant before my uterus breaks down to deliver the "products of failure" in the way of that bitch "aunt flo" and I have been peeing on sticks comparing test and control lines like Sarah Sital on CSI.. but whatever.. that's me.. I'm a control freak.. this shit is out of my hands and though I haven't fully accepted that yet- I feel better this month for some reason... I say that now, but when my period shows up- there will be hell to pay. I'm also turning 30 in a few short weeks... the last of my 20's (duh). To be honest-- I really want to ring those last days in pregnant and healthy. Every time I get a glimpse at Abby playing with her little buddies, or nuzzling her "soft softs" in her sleep-- I can't bear to think that we won't be able to make another baby... driving home from my grandparents on Christmas-- she was soo tired... she wrapped her little hand around my fingers the whole way home as I sat in the back seat with her... I watched the street lights move over her face and in those moments I just loved her so much- it reconfirmed for me how much I want to have another child... this week her and the little lady I watch during the week had a princess dance party- watching Abby interact and shake her little booty- I teared up and started to cry (we all hope those are the hormones of ovulation kicking in-- with any luck) she just looks so perfect in those little moments--- and she looks so "2" in other moments (ie. pushing, taunting, teasing, tantruming) but I don't care about those "2" moments- because I know, just around the corner will be another perfect moment- like when she gets ready for her bath and does the "I'm neh-ed" (naked) booty shake... and post bath "funny face" *gabba* in the mirror.. There are some other things that have been different, in a more positive way, for me these last weeks as well... I don't know what- or how- or why.. but I have just realized how much I love Jay... it's not just because he arranged with my Mom to get me a treadmill for Christmas either (that did score him some extra points) there's something-- I might have missed it before.. I know I love him- that's why I married him- but in the rush of getting married pregnant forcing my US citizen of a husband to work under the table... dealing with postpartum depression/denial, money stresses etc.. I missed what a wonderful and caring man he is. He's an amazing father.. sometimes too amazing because I get ripped off and don't get the hugs and kisses daddy gets (and also because someone has to be the "bad" guy). We have been a great team these last few weeks.. the whole ships passing in the night (aka 315 in the afternoon) has been okay- because there is an intimacy that has returned-- that extends out of just the bedroom and into the rest of life... We are both hard workers (him after some serious nagging from me) and we take turns working hard in the "work force" and on the "home front" it isn't easy-- but it's all we have and we are making it work. It's nice- it would be even nicer if we could go out for an hour with just each other- but that's not happening any time soon! I have been very worried about the women in my life.. my Mom, my momma friends... my website support group friends (who have been very helpful, I don't give a shit if it's nerdy- it helps me)... Abby (who has another appt. at Childrens' coming up). I feel like being able to worry about other people- and to try to make things better for them has been helpful- that does NOT mean I take pleasure in other people's sorrow- I think it just reconfirms my career choice and the kind of person I am.. a "fixer" if you will- a "fixer that listens"- oh and gives hugs... my heart breaks when people close to me aren't happy-- and I can take that anxious energy I for some reason let hold fort in my body- and turn it into something positive- by transferring it into a "helping energy". I hope... I do know that the worrying and the "are you okays" get excessive- but I do really care-- these women have gotten me through some of the worst- no- THE worst times in my life- I owe it to them to try to help... I just wish I could wave a magic wand and make things better instantly... I want to be as helpful to them as they have been/are to me. I'm all over the place- I guess the product of a 50 hour work week combined with a two year old and a new treadmill that I just HAVE to run on every day... measuring lines and checking fluids-- that'll do it I suppose... my clothes match- they're even clean.. I get a whole day off tomorrow- to grocery shop and fold laundry and eat dinner with my family.. Perfect.