The Holidays, Gallstones and Rocky Balboa

I haven't posted in a few days. I've been too busy in the insanity of my home aka Christmas. The kids have enjoyed the gifts this year which makes me and Jim happy. They've played themselves out though so it's only a matter of time before the toys are old fodder and they are back to dangling from the ceiling.

I got some good stuff this year. Dooney purse (always wanted one of these but was too cheap to get one). New Fossil watch (I'll still wear my old one mostly, I got it on my wedding day and the memories are more important to me than avoiding the scratched face I can't even read time from anymore). And my favorite...a diamond eternity ring from my wonderful husband. God I love this man and not just for the gifts. He just is so attentive sometimes (and other times he drives me batty).

Life would be great if it weren't for this freaking Gallbladder and its stones. I've had 3 attacks in the last two weeks and this was after I watched everything that passed my lips. It doesn't matter what I do, the attacks still come. I'd rather endure labor I swear!! The pain uggg!!! And what's bad is I get so fracking pissed off when it happens because I know it won't just go away and that the pain will persist for at least an hour or two. Going to the ER does nothing since they make me wait for pain relief (they know I have the gallstones, they took the ultrasound!! How in the holy hell can I be drug seeking??? The Doctor himself told me the pain was described as some of the worst imaginable!!).

I have to bitch a bit again about hospital care. While I understand that many people drug seek and they frequent the ER and Doc's for meds, that is no reason to punish those of us in legitimate pain. It is unfair to make someone that feels like death wait and wait for minutes that turn to hours for relief. I thought a Doctor's code was to help the sick and ease suffering? Yeah right, not here. The nurses give you nasty looks and stab you in the ass when you finally get the Doctor's ok for narcotics.

Anyhow, the gallbladder has to go. It can't stay there. I won't be making it past my pregnancy. After my 1st trimester is up, I want this bastard out, out, OUT!! I've never had surgery and I'm somewhat nervous but if it means no more hell then just slice and dice. I'm beyond caring at this point. I do worry about the baby but sadly I'm a mother of 3 already and I have to be able to care for them. Jim can't take off work, it's my job to be caregiver during the day. It sucks being put in a position to have to make choices but in the long run, I have children here who need me NOW. I'm hoping the baby is as tough as they are and will hang in there with me during this.

I'm excited about this weekend. Not because it's New Year's but because I finally get to see Rocky Balboa. Go ahead, laugh it up. I love Sly. I don't care if he's old enough to be my Grandpa. He's da man and I'll gladly put down some cash to check out a movie that will take me back to when I was a little girl, chilling with my Dad, watching Rocky. I know it's kind of redundant but it's a part of my childhood and I never did get to see any of the films in the theatre...til now.

One last thing. During this christmas break, Jimbo and I have had the chance to watch tons of rentals. We had the misfortune of renting two of the biggest duds, both starring Nik Cage. Please don't waste your time with World Trade Center. It consists of Nik in a dark hole with his partner and not much else. It's so slow and boring. I found myself wanting to skip to the end to see what happened. And for the love of god DO NOT rent the Wicker Man. That is the worst movie I've ever seen in my entire life. It was repetitive, stupid and the ending made me want to up chuck. I want those 2 hours of my life back. It's that bad. On a positive note, Masters Of Horror is new tonight on Showtime, I love that show and Jimbo and I watch every new episode. It's "our" alone time night.

I'm off, I have appointments to make for my dog (I have to haggle with my Vet, he always wants to do tests for Ceaz that are totally unneeded. Everytime his visit rolls round I have to remind our kind but expensive pet doc that we are not the Hilton's and don't have money to blow). And I've got to get some laundry done.

Happy New Year!! (saying that now, just in case I don't get a post in beforehand)

All I get for Christmas is Knocked Up!

This is my christmas shirt I'll be sporting for the family. I found it strangely fitting considering. I just hope everyone else appreciates the joke.

So this weekend I ended up in the ER. Myself, Jimbo and the kids went to cut a tree, got home and started decorating. All was great with the world, then when I was doing the tinsel I got this sharp pain in my abdomen. Thinking it was just upset tummy I tried to sit and wound up with my ass hugging carpet begging Jimbo to call 9-11. I didn't know what the hell was going on, I just knew it was bad. We called his Mom to watch the kids while he took me in and although it was only a matter of minutes until she arrived it felt like hours. I began to vomit and the pressure continued to worsen. I thought I was dying and began to pray to god for some intervention.

Let me just say...I hate the fracking ER. I get there and cannot walk and have to be wheeled in by a chair. Meanwhile the receptionist (completely not caring about my pain obviously) begins making me fill out all this paperwork and answering all these questions (and to be honest, I was so out of it I can't recall what I said). Then I am rolled to the side to wait...and wait. After Jimbo kept pushing to get me back to see someone, I was called back to Triage and they asked me my pain from a scale of 1-10. Considering I have a pretty good tolerance for pain, I said a 5. I did this because the pain had lessened a small amount but as I told them, it came in waves lasting 10-15 minutes and that 5 was the lowest end of that scale. Again I'm made to wait. After about 20 minutes of me hunched over, pulling at my hair, my dear husband starting giving them hell and got me back.

I immediately asked for something for the pain and was told "you have to wait to see a Doctor". Fine I think I've come this far. Then while I feel like I'm going to die, the nurse tries to start an IV and get some blood samples. Too bad nursezilla and had to poke me 5 times to get the IV going. At this point I didn't care, I just wanted to see the Doctor.

They start fluids and the doctor finally comes in. He does some feeling around and tells me he thinks "I have gallstones". Fantastic. He then tells me I'll finally get something for the pain. So when my nurse arrives she informs me it will be a shot in the hip. So I roll over and bare all. She must have drew a dart board on my ass since she stabbed me with the damned needle. I've had tons of hip shots and they never bothered me, until this bitch comes around. Finally 15 minutes later, all is well and the pain is there but tolerable.

I then have a visitor from the lab. It appears nursezilla can't take blood properly either and they have to redo it, so another stick (this nurse was a RN thank god and got it first shot) and I finally can sit back. I get an ultrasound and afterward my Doc comes in and tells me I am the unfortunate carrier of "alot" of gallstones and I'll need surgery. He said that the pain can be horrific and that he was sorry it took so long to get relief. I was also told I have a UTI and anemia to boot. Wonderful.

So now, until the first trimester is over, I have to watch everything I eat. No more good stuff. No whole milk, butter, meat. You know, anything worth eating. Instead I have to sustain myself on lettuce like a rabbit. Oh well, if it means no more of that pain I'm game. I'm not going through that shit again, no thank you.

This weekend our christmas get together will be a sad one for me. I can't partake in all the italian goodness my husbands family bestows. No greasy spaghetti or bread, or meatballs or anything.

So the shirt fits I think. Merry Fracking Christmas!!

I have to ponder, is this normal?

I've carried three pregnancies to term. Each one was different but generally they all stayed on the same course. Mild fatigue and nausea at the start but otherwise, A-Ok!

Except for now. Good lord above send me some energy! I feel like I'm 85 years old trying to get around. It's not just sleepiness, I'm sooooo fracking tired! I'll do the most mundane chore and afterward be out of breath and exhausted. I'm dumbfounded.

Maybe it's because I'm on the 4th pregnancy, maybe it's because I'm older but damnit! I'm not that old and I shouldn't feel this crummy. Getting the boys to nap was hell. Getting drinks, getting them tucked in, kissed and loved on just plain knocked my socks off and left me sitting at the top of the stairs going WTH??

Doing my own math (until the Doc can give me the real numbers) I believe myself to be 7 weeks pregnant. In other words, it's a little grain. Nothing to cause this much fuss over. I wish I knew of others in the same situation to ask because I feel like I'm past my 1st trimester easy.

My Mom in her wonderful comforting conversation said "maybe its twins!!".
Thanks Mom, somehow that makes me feel sooooo much better.

Maybe it's because I can't sleep lately. I'll wake up on and off all night, tossing and turning and keeping poor Jim up with me for it. Then I'll wake at the crack of dawn and start my day. I'm just pooped. I've read on the internet "if you have a normal pregnancy, working out can help with fatigue". Ok let me get this straight jackass. You want me, when I can barely make it up and down the stairs without taking a rest, to hop on a stair climber or treadmill and move in place for 30 minutes? Is it just me or does anyone else see the problem with this logic?

All I ask is that:

A. The baby is ok and healthy, number 1.
B. That I don't gain a freaking ton this time around, since each time losing it has been absolute hell.
C. My kids are open to one more screaming mouth to listen to.
D. That my husband will finally cave in and get clipped. With our luck I'm voting clip for him and clip for me. Since it appears we can wink at each other anymore without causing pregnancy.

There are more things I want but I won't ask. Just let this shit pass already, I have a life to take care of. This new tenant has to learn I'm the landlord and he/she has to learn to adapt to my lifestyle. That won't change much after eviction, better to adjust now I say. Who am I kidding, I'm so screwed, literally and figuratively.

So the "first" official blog....Fact Plus, when you DON'T want to know.

So...I was surfing the web the other day in a cloud of confusion and denial, trying to figure out how in the holy cow I could possibly be preggars again! I came across this kick ass person who doesn't even know me but made me laugh and realize in this big wide void of unplanned pregnancies I am not alone. Thank you Anne and Bun in the Oven! With that said...Let me lay this out for you that may be interested, if not please disregard:

A. I have successfully been on the "BC" pill for over a year, taking it faithfully each night like a good little girl should.

B. With 3 children my beloved hubbie and I are just frankly too damned tired to try to "get it on" frequently. Our last Woo-Hoo marathon was a good night when our children went to bed, this was 6 weeks ago.

C. 4 weeks ago, I got that nasty montly visitor that I once hated to see but now I greet as a necessary friend in the world.

You figure it out. It's been 6 weeks, no visitor and I get a lightbulb moment...Oh shiznit.

"NO!" I tell myself consolingly. "You had your visitor 4 weeks ago, you are just late, do not fret, you are on BC."

So I wait a week........

No visitor. Fine, I think to myself, I'll just go get a test. It will be negative (and at this point I realize I'm avoiding the issue and I know I'm pregnant) and all will be right with the world. I get "the test". Pee on said stick, and start to walk away when I see a + sign. I drooped my head in defeat and called Jim at work. He's like me, totally fracking shocked.

So yeah folks, here I am, SAHM of 3. One beautiful daughter, two gorgeous boys. All under the age of 4. That's right; I've had babies the last 3.5 years of my life people. I've experienced my last birthday’s preggars or close to it and now, the year of my big 3-0 I will be pregnant again.

All I can say is...#*&@.