Life Family and the Pursuit of Sanity

or… adventures in infertility and babies and family drama!

Just Bent April 25, 2013

Filed under: Marriage — arminta @ 2:10 am
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Once upon a time the hubs and I used to play a game where we tried to name the artist who’s music best supplied the soundtrack to our relationship. Not necessarily what we listened to the most (although, we did tend to pick from the music we listened to). Usually we came up with things like Jewel and Dave Matthews Band. Because we were young and romantic and in love (and stuck in the 90’s).

Since 2009, though… we both agree that P!nk is holding strong on the whole soundtrack front, though. There are a great many similarities between our relationship and her marriage to Carey Hart (she drinks, they’ve experienced infertility and miscarriage, she has a hateful mouth, he pretty much lived off of her for years), at least according to her songs and media interviews. There are plenty of differences, too (they have money and an insane love of fitness).

 

Our P!nk connection started on July 4th 2009. That was the day G packed all of his shit into the truck and prepared to drive away for good. Emotionally, at that time I was still so numb and raw and angry (oh, I was so angry) about losing Bean. I couldn’t relate to other people, I couldn’t care. But, as he was leaving me (and I was sitting on the couch watching him, numb and pissed and frankly, probably drunk) the song Please Don’t Leave Me came on the radio. When it was almost over, as he was going through our DVD’s trying to decide which ones to take I said “Don’t go.” He made a comment about not taking my “shitty Harry Potter and Twilight movies.” And I said that I didn’t care about the movies, I just wanted him to stay. And he did. Actually, we drove to the horse track (where I got more drunk, I’m sure… I drank A LOT back then) and gambled all day, then had the best dinner at a BBQ that closed down two weeks later. (FYI… if you are ever in Kentucky or Cincinnati, OH and you’re eating at a place that sells burgoo, try it. It is awesome.) We have had more fights since then, but that was the last time either of us has almost left. We celebrate July 4th less as the national holiday and more as our Double D Day.

 

Of course during the worst of our troubles So What was very popular on the radio. I had no trouble relating to that in my anger. Of course, the fact that Cary Hart was in the video told me that they had worked through their issues and were back together or getting back together. Strangely, that gave me hope. Obviously, Sober resonated with me pretty heavily during that time, too. Pretty much the entire Funhouse CD was our story during that time.

 

Then Lil G came and things got better. For a while we were in kind of a bubble. There was trouble, sure, but nothing like what it used to be. Not even close to what it used to be. Then, things got less good again. Not bad like they were. I’m not drinking anymore, for one. (Don’t get me wrong, I drink a bottle of wine a month, maybe two. I used to drink a bottle or two a NIGHT most nights of the week.) As things were getting bad again, P!nk released The Truth About Love and songs like Blow Me (One Last Kiss) and Try really connected with where we were headed. I had been thinking that life would be easier apart. Not because I don’t love him, but because sometimes it’s just SO HARD. We are so different when it comes to parenting and his anxiety is so bad. When his anxiety is bad he get hypochondria, or now he gets hypochondria by proxy and focuses on Lil G. Literally, every night I have to talk him out of taking a healthy child to the ER. We been in marriage counseling for months and it still feels like I am at the bottom of the totem pole around here. SO HARD.

 

Then another song…

 

And it reminded me that nothing is as bad as it seems and we can get past this. We’ve been through worse…

 

 

 

State of the Union March 21, 2013

Filed under: Marriage — arminta @ 10:16 am

Ya’ll, I just don’t know how much longer I can do this. I love the man, but honestly, most days I can’t help but to feel like life would be easier for me if we were apart. There are reasons and more things that could be said, but it boils down to: I want to give up, it’s just to hard like this. The sad part is that it really wouldn’t take that much for me to feel differently, but the effort just isn’t there. This sucks.

 

All My Fault March 15, 2013

Filed under: Baby G,Marriage — arminta @ 4:15 pm
Tags: , , , ,

So, Mom has come and gone. We had a good visit, but it had to end and now Am.Sad. Easter Part 1 was pretty fun. There were mishaps (as there always are), but overall it was good. We did Kool-Aid egg dying, and had a hunt and ate ham and the Easter bunny stopped by Nana’s early because he heard she wasn’t going to be home on Easter Day. Also, we had a talk with the 9 year old about just playing along with shit like that so the littles (including his crazy gullible almost 6 year old brother) get to have a childhood. Good stuff.

 

Of course, as happens with four children we had a lot of sickness, too. A tummy bug and pink eye made their rounds. Which has caused no end of grief to me. Not because of eye goop and puking, that I can handle. No, because now Lil G is sick. I made the choice to take him around children that I knew might still be contagious because his grandmother wasn’t going to see him for weeks and weeks, then he got sick. The words “I hold you and your bad decisions as a mother responsible for this” were spoken. Not sure how to handle this one, yet.

 

I do get it. It’s miserable seeing the little guy sick. He’s miserable, I’m cleaning up puke, Daddy might get sick, too. Not a good situation. If it was a normal situation where he was going to see Nana again in a week or two, I’d probably not have risked it. Probably. Because also… he’s two, this is the time to let their immune systems build. I’m not saying intentionally expose them to germs or anything, but they can’t be kept in a bubble, either. Most viruses are contagious before they are symptomatic, so, by the time the puking begins it may be too late to stop the spread, anyway.

 

My lackadaisical attitude about the current illness of doom appears to be the main thorn in the husband’s side. Except, I don’t feel that my attitude is uncaring at all. I feel I’m being practical. When the flu was rampant here and college kids were dying (a perfectly healthy 22 year old girl died of the flu in my town this winter, among three other kids from the local college), my kid didn’t leave the house. My husband showered as soon as he walked through the door and if my sister’s kids so much as sniffled, they ALL went somewhere else until we were SURE they didn’t have the flu. Because, Lil G has “moderate to severe” asthma. Every time he has gotten a respiratory infection it has triggered an attack, and his attacks aren’t little gasps cured by albuterol events. His attacks are days and days of coughing until he’s almost blue and breathing 50-60 breaths a minute, relieved temporarily by the medicine (Duoneb, a second line drug), only to return again as soon as the drugs wear off. Yes, I do EVERYTHING in my power to prevent that. There’s no benefit to his immune system to allowing him to go through that. Also, people with asthma go into respiratory failure and die, so that’s something to avoid.

 

Thing is, tummy bugs don’t trigger acute asthma attacks. There is some benefit to letting him get those bugs now (to make him more resistant to them when he’s older). Some illness are “the end of the world” and some are not. I don’t think there is anything wrong with acknowledging that and allowing reasonable risk when the reward (spending time with his Nana who he hadn’t seen in months and wouldn’t see again for months) is worth it. Problem is, my husband thinks that makes me a bad mother. Yay!

 

To Try or Not To Try March 7, 2013

Filed under: Infertility,Marriage — arminta @ 1:52 am

For my entire life I wanted a big family. I wanted at least four kids, maybe six! Then, it was hard to get the one. Now, he’s here and things are good. That crazy fever pitch NEED for a baby, just isn’t there anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I get that pang for an itty bitty sometimes. Once in a while I think about how nice it would be to nurse another, or feel kicks again. But, it’s kind of like a chocolate craving, it comes and goes, but never takes over. Actually, chocolate cravings are stronger. They do take over a few days a month…

 

My point is, I don’t have that all consuming NEED like I did before Lil G was born. I’d be perfectly pleased to have another… or not. Which is all fine and good, except it makes planning for the future and managing my RA harder. I’m not ready to rule out never trying again (although, there are days I’m ready for a hysterectomy, usually the same days that the chocolate craving takes over). I’m not even ruling out doing treatments again (although there was a time I would have not even considered it). But, not today. I’m not ready for deliberate procreation just yet.

 

The husband, on the other hand, wants another. From a practical “when they grow up” standpoint, so do I. From a “let’s have another baby this year” standpoint, though… not so much. Right now, we’ve agreed to give my new RA meds six months to work, or be discontinued, then take it from there.

 

This is such a strange position. I wonder if we had never experienced loss or infertility if I would still feel this way, or if it would be a mad dash for more?

 

Duh, Depression, Igit November 1, 2012

Guess what? This is not going to be another long list of woe and forelorn! I mean it WAS going to be, then I thought “Oh my, you’re boring! That’s all you’ve posted in ages and by the way *yawn*” So, I decided to look back and see just how long it’s been that I’ve been barely posting and when I do it’s mostly bitching. Hmm, well turns out that started right around the time I lost Nora. I’m gonna go ahead and guess that you guys were all quite aware that I am battling depression… I on the other hand, was not. I thought I was doing really well, just dealing with lots of hard shit* (I am dealing with hard shit, but not literally because that would mean I was pregnant and I’m not, anyhoo we’re talking figurative hard shit). But, now that I look back, I can see quite clearly “duh, depression!”

 

I suppose part of this revelation came from G. He asked the marriage counselor last week if he could stop coming and just send me alone. When she asked what the hell that was all about he whispered “I think she’s depressed.” At which point the counselor looked at me and I burst into tears and said “No I’m not, my life is just spiraling out of control, everything is upside down and I’m getting fatter and fatter and my health is shit and the kids are bad and why can’t I just sleep for like 4 days, then I’ll feel better and be able to get shit under control!” To which she replied “I think you’re depressed. Can you get anything off of your plate for a bit? I see you headed for a massive crash and burn.”

 

So, the next morning I decided to take it easy. Play with the babies, do some crochet work and mostly just chill. For real, not like my normal escapism, but really relax with the littles. I also started some baby steps towards getting the house and everything else back under control. It’s been a week and I’m feeling ever so much better. Not BETTER, but getting there. One of the baby steps I’m taking is finding things to get out of my house everyday. Obviously, if I’m feeling suffocated by stuff, there’s too much of it. Amazingly, getting just 20 misc. items out of the house made a HUGE difference. That’s good. (Iffin’s you want to do a little baby stepping with me, here’s the blog I’m following along to http://moneysavingmom.com/2012/05/4-weeks-to-a-more-organized-home-printable-checklist-and-daily-email-reminders.html)

 

Also, under the advice of the counselor I’m letting G do stuff around the house. As much as I can. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to deal with him touching my dishwasher or laundry, but… I am not letting it rankle me so much when he does things like put toys away (even in the wrong bins) or get Lil G ready for bed (even in out of season jammies, before his bath and giving him a second milk bottle). This is big for me, guys. Super duper big. It seems more stressful at first, but then it isn’t. It’s really weird. For real, I’m not one that lets people help me, this is gigantic.

 

Anyway, I just wanted to let you guys know I’ve finally seen the light and am working on not being so boring and whiny 🙂

 

* Hard Shit:

– Nieces in foster care, one is angry at the world the other ran away for two weeks (to be with her sexually abusive bio-dad) and is now in jeuvenille detention.

– Mom moved out of state. My mom. The only person G would let babysit. My best friend. My mommy**. Moved.

– Big C is such a challenge. I love him, but Whole E. Hell that kid tests my patience.

– Someone gave Lil G the memo that he is two now and terribleness has commenced 🙂

– My psycho-MIL is amping up again.

– RA can suck my ballz.

– Where my money? I need, I need cash.

 

** Yes, I am a grown ass woman that calls her mother “Mommy,” deal with it.

 

Festering Black Hole of Negativity September 26, 2012

Ya’ll, I’m sorry that you only get to hear the bitching and whining (mostly) and that I’ve been a piss poor commenter lately. Where have I heard that before? Oh, right, my every single post for the last year! Good fucking grief.

 

I don’t know what I was thinking taking on nanny’ing and a small business and being home full time. I must have been out of my damned mind. I mean, for real. I feel pulled in every which direction, am frazzled and bitchy by 5pm every day (am I maybe tired from staying up all night? you, voice, can feel free to shut the fuck up!) and never feel like anything gets done. I make a list, I blow it off. Am.Lazy.

 

But, I’m not. I don’t feel like I get a break, ever. So, I guess, all of my dicking around and blowing off my list is my way of getting a break? But it doesn’t work. Sometimes I think life would be so much easier if I just got a job. But, I’d miss my little man too much. Plus, the whole point of staying home was to raise him up right and that job isn’t nearly done.

 

So, you want a little bullety synopsis of what’s up?

  • Nanny life: My sister, the ever game player, has been telling her kids that they’re going to daycare. She has not told me this. She did recently ask me to reduce my rate because the boys were in school now. I had to remind her that 1) I didn’t raise the rate this summer or last when I had Big C all day, so why would losing Lil C for a couple of hours a day warrant a rate change? and 2) I now have to drive to get the boys everyday which costs gas money and is an added expense due to their going back to school, also 3) the new school schedule completely fucked the babies nap schedule so I now get 0 time without at least one baby. To which she immediately began going on about how broke she is and how my husband makes more than she does. What the fuck does that have to do with anything? I wish that I was in the position to be able to watch the kids for free, but I’m not. That money is our grocery/household money. It feeds and diapers HER kids. So frustrating.
  • Also, Big C recently told me that his mother told him that I tried to “take him away from her” and that’s why they have to keep secrets from me. Oh my fucking god! There’s a big ass can of worms. For the record… I did see an attorney to determine how to best handle custody and substance abuse issues. A long time ago. When it was clearly an issue. I told her then that I didn’t want her kids, I wanted HER to want her kids. I told him “Your mom was not well back then and I took measures to be sure you’d be with family and not separated from your brother, no matter what. I’m very disappointed that she would bring that up to you.” If it gets brought up again, there’s no guarantee I won’t tell him the whole fucking truth.
  • As if that wasn’t enough, his ADHD/ODD is out of control. Probably partially due to the fact that his “dad” is talking about getting married. Partially due to the fact that his mom is playing crazy mind games. And, a lot to do with new school year/new school stresses. I have said umpteen trillion times that I’d take him to some kind of sport/class to help with discipline and with getting him into someone else’s hair. My mom has offered to pay for such activity. He has not been enrolled. He also has yet to see a behavioral therapist because “a girl a work has similar issues with her kid and a therapist didn’t help them.” So, why bother doing what’s best for your kid, right? I mean kid”S” because his bullshit stresses the other kids, too.
  • You know what else? My MIL is a bitch. Not new news, I know. This psycho actually called my husband and offered him $1k out of nowhere today. Because money is the key to making up for being a family wrecking bitch? Oh, wait, no, that’s a sincere apology, and actually feeling remorse for being such an evil, nasty, mean spirited, ignorant, crazy bitch. #NeverGonnaHappen.
  • But, here’s something that did happen… for some unknown reason my husband felt the need to tell this insane person that he wasn’t “allowed” to talk to her anymore because the therapist and I said so. Un-motherfucking-believable. Grow a pair of goddamned balls. No mention of his decisions. No mention of the umpteen million times I’ve said “you are a grown up and can make your own decisions, but, my son will not have a relationship with her unless she agrees to family counseling.” Which, personally, I think is pretty damned reasonable. No, he just throws me under the bus, again.
  • The counseling is a bit mixed. She’s spending a lot of time on teaching biblical marriage principles. Which, OK, fine. I mean the top thing she keeps talking about is “protection” and he threw me to fucking wolves just this week, so I’m starting to think this is a waste of money and time. Use the “talking stick” and you’ll never fight again… follow the bible and your marriage will be awesome. Whatever… Seriously, here’s how the issues stack up. His w/ me: I sometimes let the baby play with things he probably shouldn’t, I don’t keep the house as clean as we’d both like and I don’t like giving blow jobs all of the time. Mine w/ him: He doesn’t stand up for our family in a mature way with people who are attacking us, he treats me like the help, he hovers over me second guessing my every decision related to the baby, he spends WAY too much money and I’m left to pick up the pieces and the list goes on. There has been “some” improvement since counseling started, but none in the most major of issues.
  • My kid won’t pull down his pants and piss in the potty. Even for chocolate. Oh, he’ll go if he’s nude, but cover up that bird and he pisses every where.
  • I’m broke. Not BROKE, but “broke.”
  • My RA is crazy. Which is probably the catalyst for the depression and bitching. I actually found something that helps. But… it makes me sleepy for days. And, G bitches whenever I take it. Also, I don’t like the way it makes me feel (well, I like the longer term feeling, but the immediate feeling is to intense for me). So, I is screwed.
  • The icing: G asks me the other day “are we going to have another baby or what?” No, I’m not kidding.
 

Brain Dump, You’re Welcome! August 24, 2012

Filed under: Baby G,Completely and Entirely Unrelated to IF,Marriage — arminta @ 2:52 am

Oh, hi. Yeah, I didn’t forget that I have a blog. I promise. Things has just been, well, cray-cray ‘round here. By cray-cray of course, I mean the normal amount of crazy + I’m lazy Smile

 

Well, not as much LAZY as getting my arse whipped by this damned RA. Finally on new med’s (I’d like to take a minute to thank my insurance for take 11 weeks to approve my new medicine, ya’ll rock… at sucking!), and Dr. Rheumy promises that one day I’ll wake up “all better” just like how morning sickness goes away all at once. Except for the people for whom it doesn’t work. Four weeks until we find out which camp I’m in. Although, I have been feeling a little better this week. I even cleaned my bedroom.

 

Also, I wasn’t pregnant, just sick. Also, mono symptoms can apparently come and go for months and feel exactly like the first trimester of pregnancy. Also, I still have mono. So, that’s been like six months now. Yay! Compromised immune systems are awesome!

 

I should be baking right now, because giant ass cakes don’t bake themselves. But, see previous re: RA & mono… I don’t feel like doing shit.

 

Pretty jazzed about the big #2 bash! Will post pictures, promise. Maybe even before Christmas.

 

Saw a marriage counselor today. Am unsure what kind of voo-doo she pulled on me, but, have signed up for 8 more sessions. Maybe things will get better? If not, at least I’ll know I did everything in my power to fix this thing. The ship is sinking ya’ll. But, the right things were said coming out of there, so maybe… Except she’s UBER Christian. Which I think was G’s plan when he picked her. But, when I told her where I was with god and why I was there, she said “He understands you’re mad at him, tell him that when you pray. Keep praying, just tell him how mad you are, if that’s what you feel.” OK, except, I’m more inclined to believe we are more of a game of Sims left alone too long than anything. But, OK. Oh, yeah, get sucked into that black hole, we play the Sims, but we are Sims, and our Sims play Sims. Am I the only ancient asshole out here that remembers the Sims? Anyhizzle… she had my back re: La Diabla, so that was good.

 

 

OK, will write more later. Must sleep.