It's Sunday night and I am wondering....

My pregnancy symptoms seem to be increasing.  Is this encouraging? Neutral? Does it matter? If I’m destined to lose this pregnancy, how long will I have to suffer through increasing symptoms? I wish it was a few weeks from now, when a heartbeat would be visible or clearly not there, and I would know for sure. I wish that I never learned not to count on any pregnancy from the get-go. I wish that I had the courage to open my heart and hope for the best. I wish that I was finished with my Powerpoint presentation for Tuesday’s class lecture.

One good thing: Dave sent me to Starbucks on Saturday afternoon, to finish grading a whole stack of papers unmolested by sticky little fingers. It was bliss.

    2 things:

    First, I have not yet miscarried. Whether the pregnancy is still viable I do not know, but my symptoms continue to increase. Dave thought my violent gag reflex this morning was just hilarious.

    Secondly, I told Cameron yesterday that he had a cold. Evidently, this is like telling him that he is a big sissybaby because he was personally insulted: “No, I DON’T!” he said crabbily. “I do NOT have a cold!” I tried to explain, it’s not a big deal, Cammy– your nose is runny, that’s all– but I got another offended sniff, and this quote: “Mom, I am the boss of my nose and it does not have a cold!!!” I acquiesced, so a few minutes later he thought he’d go a little further with this “boss” concept:

    “Hey, Mom?”
    “You’re not the boss of me. I’m the boss of me.”
    “Cameron, I am your mother and I am the boss of you.”
    “Okay. But I’m still the boss of my nose.”
    “Okay, Cam.”

    Just remember: your children are the bosses of their noses. Whether you like it or not.

      Take this at face value, but...

      I am still pregnant. For now, anyway.

      What I experienced Tuesday night, for reasons that are TMI to go into, seemed to fit the pattern of my previous miscarriages. My doctor agreed over the phone, and because he is so understanding, agreed that I should just stay home yesterday and wait for the actual event to take place, and come to see him when it was over.

      He just called me for an update, as I did not report back to him yesterday. As I explained to him– there was nothing to report yesterday.  Moreover, I am continuing to experience increasing symptoms, and when I stuck my toothbrush in my mouth this morning, I promptly started gagging (a telltale Julie symptom). His response to continuing events: “Well, there’s no guarantee of course, but based on what you’re telling me I am encouraged. I think you may still have a viable pregnancy.”

      I can’t get my hopes up. I cannot do it. I still fully expect the miscarriage to happen some time today, and it’s just a slap in the face that my symptoms are increasing for nothing. Since I really don’t want to go see my doctor and go through the whole thing for nothing, and since there’s nothing that can be done medically anyway, I am to give it a few more days and see what happens, and if things continue as they are, I have agreed to go in next week. We shall see.

      I am afraid to hope for anything to come of this. But if any of you would like to be hopeful for me, that might be nice.

        That's the end of that.

        I lost the pregnancy last night, in the middle of the night. I’m a little disappointed but not really surprised– it’s my history to miscarry once or twice for each successful pregnancy. Dave is disappointed and I think he would try again immediately, but I say, this was such an unplanned shock, and we hardly had time to get used to the idea before I lost it. Let’s just be more careful from now on and go back to the original plan of the lagniappe baby.

          Well, Dave and I came to a decision.

          We had a long talk on our anniversary about this 3rd child thing, and we agreed that now isn’t a very good time for it; Dave’s in school still, and we feel like we have a handle on our life as it is right now. I have been thinking, maybe in a year or two, when the kids are a little older, we can have that little lagniappe baby. In fact, I even sold Dave on that idea. And, if that right time never comes, then it just never comes– we have 2 perfect and special children, who bring us so much happiness. We both felt like this is definitely the right decision for our family.

          And none of that matters, I guess, because I found out last night that I’m pregnant.

            The turtle

            There is a saying at my office: “Lack of preparation on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part.” About a year ago, I distilled that into something more concise: “This is a YP.” (YP = Your Problem) Granted, that phrase actually came from my brother Jeff, but it’s a good phrase all the same.

            I haven’t been to the office yet this week, and I stopped by this morning. There was a little gift on my desk: a necklace with a charm in the shape of a cranky turtle. The turtle is holding a sign that says, “Not My Problem.” The necklace was accompanied by 1. some pictures of a stranger’s wedding that Target Photo Center accidentally mixed in with some photos of a project of ours (wow; lots and lots of glitter on that bride), and 2. a note from my coworkers:

            In an attempt to provide visual cues to the rest of us, for the times when you do not wish to be helpful to your clients, we have purchased this necklace for you. If, at any time, you feel you need to deflect responsibility for something, all you have to do is put on the Turtle. Then, when someone tries to dump something on you, you simply say, “Sorry. I’m wearing the Turtle.” [Note: Dave says that the Turtle will have no power at home, so don’t try using it to get out of dishes or baths.]

            Huh. I’m going home.

            And I’m bringing the Turtle.


              Your cousin is marrying his Baby Momma next summer. All of the cousins in your family are very close, so you are all surprised that no female cousins are in the bridal party.  Baby Momma has chosen no less than 15 attendants, none of whom are related to the groom. Instead, she asks you and your sister to hand out programs at the church. The catch: she wants you to wear the same dress as the bridesmaids, for a cost before alterations & accessories of $250.00.

              I told the person for whom this situation has come up, that I would ask around for opinions. I say, for $250 I’ll walk down the aisle and stand in the front, or else I’ll wear my own dress. WWYD?

                Again, my husband outdoes me.

                We got each other tattoos this summer as an early anniversary gift, and our anniversary is coming up on Monday. So I thought that, as a little lagniappe gift, I would have Dave’s Swiss Army watch repaired and give it to him when we go out on Saturday. Well, they called yesterday to say that they need to send it someplace else, that has the tools required to do the repair that his watch needs. So it won’t be ready tomorrow.

                And then, last night, Dave gave me my “little extra gift:”
                Grind & Brew

                Argh. He always, always, ALWAYS outdoes me on gift-giving occasions. Only one time did I ever beat him, and that was the time I took him on a surprise 4-day weekend to New Orleans. And that was 6 years ago, so clearly I’m clinging to an old victory here…….

                Any ideas on what to get for him, for tomorrow?

                  Halloween costumes

                  Here’s where we stand:

                  Gabby loves Care Bears. So I meticulously tracked down, bid on, and won a Cheer Bear costume for her. It arrived Saturday, she took one look it, yelled, “No way!!” and ran off. I have yet to convince her to so much as touch it.

                  Cameron loves dinosaurs. However, it seems that where dino costumes are concerned, you have your cool-but-expensive ones, and then you have your reasonably-priced-but-dorky ones. I finally found one that straddled the line (a little, anyway, I still paid more than I wanted to), and I expect it to arrive tomorrow or Thursday. Cameron, however, expected it to arrive within 5 minutes of our order. The fact that it has inexplicably not yet arrived, a whole 24 hours after I ordered it, will surely render him comatose with depression if it does not show soon. And God forbid it doesn’t fit. In fact, forget I ever said that.

                    Pick your Favorite:

                    After an entire day of horror in the bathroom down the hall, we’ve decided to take the direct approach and hang a sign. Which do you like best?

                    “My 2-year-old can flush the toilet. Can you?”

                    “No one wants to hear from your Curried Chicken”

                    “Seek Medical Assistance”

                    “You know someone else is in here with you, right?”

                    “That’s How You Get Hemorrhoids”

                    “Please Choose a Lunch That Agrees With You”

                    Any other ideas?

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