Still kickin!

I need to write more. Truly. There is so much going on, and I'm constantly thinking "I should write about this, or I'll forget it" and then it just never happens. So there's one thing I want to do different this year, blog again! I really sputtered into silence the last half of this year. It has been overwhelming, but these days I'm getting a little more time on my hands. And I don't want Dori to go entirely undocumented. :)

But for now I won't bug you too much with baby woes, suffice it to say that things go as well as can be expected with a 2.5 month old and a 2.5 year old. He's really pretty darn good with sleeping now, nursing is going swimmingly in spite of an ever-tightening tongue tie in need of clipping. (And there's a whole huge hassle in between the lines of that that I don't feel like rehashing)

Marriage has been rockier than ever, but we're working on it. Bullheadedness and "I have it HARDER!" has abounded and rebounded and just been fucking everywhere. We've been butting heads on the same issue for weeks, but I think tonight we finally made some progress, or at least found our next course of action. If you can't get in through the door, try the window, and if that's locked too try another window, kind of thing.

So what, you ask, may have helped still this marital squabble? Hopefully, some time to myself. Anthony has WoW, and I just don't jive that way these days. I can't take 3+ solid hours 3 days a week, and certainly not when he's doing the same thing at the same time! Which is fine with me. I'd really prefer something more productive and less Nand. Holy mother of god, less woman-hating mother effing NAND. He fears me, and for good reason. If I could kill him with MIND BULLETS he would be a bloody splatter.

Anyhow, I want to run. (Just had another epiphany, I want to HIKE. This is even better, although will not occur as frequently. I have been dying to camp and get outdoors, but at least, this I could do. YES.) But yes, I want to get back in shape. I meant to after Ray, and it didn't happen. Now I'm chasing two and I feel it, and holy crap guys, I'm 23. I should not be grunting and heaving and clutching furniture to pull my ass off the floor, especially when I just dropped 30 lbs in the last two months. (The first 20 disappeared in the first two weeks. Holy metabolism, batman) I'd like to do the occasional 5k or join some of my family at a half marathon. Maybe next year (2011) on that last.

I also am really enjoying my sewing machine, but finding time with both boys asleep is REALLY difficult. Like many babies this age, Dori is often awake until 10 or 11pm or later, and once he's finally down that means I need to sleep also. So we're going to move the sewing desk up to his (as yet unused) room. A few days a week, when Anthony gets home from work, I will either go for a run or spend an hour sewing, uninterrupted and away from small children. He gets his WoW time, which helps him relax and unwind and is something fun for him. And I get some fun stuff too. (Our previous arrangement was that on raid nights he would make dinner and do some other helpful things like dishes or straightening the living room. This started chafing though, I'm not keeping a damn chore chart here people. There are no WoW stars to earn. I refuse to ever tell him that he cannot play, because that is not my place. We are equals, I am not his fucking mother. I don't want to have authority over him, and I know he doesn't want to come home to more marching orders. Further, if he helps I want him to help because he actually wants to help ME or is just plain taking initiative to get shit done. Either is cool with me.)

It was a long tense night before we discussed this, and the solution (at least the start of it) didn't hit me till I was nursing Dori to sleep. While I still would like him to occasionally decide to skip a raid night because we have other craziness going on, I think alot of my issue was jealousy. "What entitles him to this activity irrevocably when I get diddly?" So there. Now I get something too.

We also talked about other stuff, but I prefer not to spread that around the internet so much. Time will tell how it may or may not improve.

Leaving tomorrow for Sacramento to see brother in law and his wife and kiddles. Bio-Dad-in-law will be there too, which is AWESOME. :) It'll be the first time he's with both his boys since they were kids, and the first time he'll have all his grandkids there too! Plus he's just plain fun to be around. I like spending enjoyable time with good family. Will be a much needed escape for us I think.

Well I think that's it for tonight. I'm done with survival mode. It's fine for a short period of time, but I need to LIVE. I've been harping on Anthony for choosing WoW while life passes us by, but I've been doing no better.

I really didn't mean to be all resolutiony tonight lol but I guess it just happens sometimes.

Dorian's birth

Well it will probably take a few days to get this finished, but I'm finally starting on Dori's birth story. :)

I don't even know where to begin? Things so smoothly moved along that it's hard to call any point a starting point. A week before I started labor I lost my mucus plug. I'd been downing red raspberry leaf tea and doing evening primrose oil nightly for a few weeks. I was gently getting to know my cervix during that time, and was so pleased when I started to feel changes down there. The mucus plug and then the bloody show the following night really excited me, not because it meant labor was terribly close but because I had never had signs like these with Ray.

I battled a few days between anxiety over when things would start, and how much I was doing (and not doing) to help things along. My body gave me gentle reminders, on days when I was not very active I would have the most show and practice labor, the following day if all was quiet and I tried taking walks and upping my activity things stayed quiet. After a few days fighting my brain and reminding myself that labor would come with NO HELP from me, I settled down and relaxed. If my body didn't seem to be getting "busy", I would take it as a day of rest and relax.

As the week progressed I continued having show, and noting my cervix feeling more and more open. He was still spinning, changing positions and figuring out where he wanted to be for the big show. I did pretty well not getting impatient, being thankful that every cm gained quietly was less time to spend on the hard stuff.

Oct 13th I had my 40 week midwife appointment. Everything was normal, I was still measuring quite small at 35cm. I refused a cervix check, being satisfied with my own findings for the time being. (Of course La Shel was not pushy at all, simply offered as a matter of course) After that my mom, Ray and I headed up to a baby supply store up in Vista that I knew had cloth diapers. I wanted to paw over some in real life so I had a better idea of what I was looking at online. On the drive home I had a couple contractions but nothing terribly noteworthy. Had some lunch at home and then I headed out for a nice long walk. Came home and had a good nap. The contractions continued that evening, and my mom and I went for another walk and enjoyed the halloween decorations going up all over the neighborhood.

Shanna called and asked that if anything was progressing at all she be notified, as she was planning on driving to Long Beach in the morning and had a strong feeling if she went she'd only have to turn right around and drive down to us. I slept fitfully that night, waking up to 2-3 painful contractions an hour. I got up for a bit at 3am as I was pretty uncomfortable in bed, and after a bit of milling about called Shanna wondering when she might prefer to leave to avoid traffic, and promising to keep her updated. I went back to bed, but again sleep was pretty crappy past the first hour. In the morning Anthony headed to work, and I went ahead and asked Shanna to come down and join us. I knew it wasn't moving fast, but I felt like it was moving.

We enjoyed a fairly quiet day, the contractions staying roughly 10 minutes apart for most of the day and nothing I could not easily breathe through. Could still talk and walk with them, although it was not preferred! I took a walk with Shanna in the afternoon, and then retreated upstairs for a shower and a nap as I was feeling a bit like a watched pot with all the family here and not too much action to report. Again I got about an hour of sleep before contractions returned. After dinner I went for another walk with my mom, and then we settled in for some TV and mostly girl talk. I continued having slightly more intense contractions and we went to bed well after midnight. Again, I got an hour or two of decent sleep before being in bed was just unbearable.

I came down and wandered in the dark a bit, as Shanna was asleep on the couch. After a while I woke her, wanting to clear out some of the bigger toys in preparation for the birth pool/air mattress being set up in the living room. Unsure of what to do with myself (I definitely wasn't ready to drag people out of bed and set the pool up) I headed up to shower again. I decided I may as well make a last attempt at sleep. I saw Anthony off to work after showering, and then laid down. This time I only lasted about an hour and a half laying down (switching sides after each contraction because it seemed to put an extra 10-15 mins in between them if I didn't stay in one position too long) before they just got too uncomfortable in bed. I would rub furiously at my lower back trying to give myself some counterpressure and moan a bit, not fun at all. So up I got.

Anthony had scheduled his leave to begin at the end of the workday on the 15th, and figuring he'd be out of work the next two weeks any way and there would be no other false alarms (if this ended up one), so I went ahead and called him home around 9am. He had joked about how he was so excited about this drive home, because he planned on speeding recklessly and using the "my wife is having a baby!" excuse on any cops if he got stopped. I pointed out that around here that may not go over so well, as we have alot of military and mexicans and what do we do but have babies? *laugh* And you know, I wanted my children to still have a father post-birth. He kept it to a meandering 100mph. (Or so he claims...)

I called La Shel after that and let her know things were progressing. I had a good contraction for her on the phone, in case there was any doubt left in me if this was "it" or not. We were planning on setting up the pool in the next hour or two and she asked that I call her back then, unless I felt I wanted them there sooner.

As we ticked down to about 5 minutes between contractions I hopped in the pool. (This being around 11am the morning of the 15th) I was still handling things rather well, they definitely got my attention but I was still alright on my own for the next hour, ooooooo'ing and ohhhhhh'ing and ahhhhh'ing my way through, swaying my hips or thrusting them. Each one seemed to have 5-6 short peaks rather than one big one, a bit of a pulsing sensation. I thought of laboring with Ray, just barely into active labor and having minute long pit contractions with about 15-20 seconds of lesser pain, but not NO pain in between, and being told that I just "have a fast contraction pattern". My ass! Here I was well into labor and still having a few minutes of peace between each one, able to relax, talk, laugh, and just feel pretty darn normal.

I checked myself at some point in the pool and felt Dori's head just beneath a gooshy layer of amniotic sac. It was very cool, and so encouraging. Around 12:30-1pm I had my mom call the midwives, as the time between contractions was shortening to 2-3 minutes and I was needing to clutch onto someone in the midst of them. Shanna, Anthony, my mom all took turns. I think this is around the time I asked that Ray be put to bed for his nap.

La Shel and Jamin arrived at 1:30pm, and things went pretty quick from there. I was pretty vocal with each contraction at this point. La Shel checked me in the pool and found I was a stretchy 7cm. Not sure of the station but lord knows the child was DOWN there. I was also getting a liiiittle bit pushy at this point. The midwives wanted me out of the pool for a bit to get fresh water put in and because they prefer moms not stay in the water too long (and had told me this before the birth although I can't remember when, but I'm sure they did) as things progressed a bit faster being mobile. So out I went and I was not too thrilled by it, but I had also thought I was a little further into transition and so moving things along a little sounded good too. I said I wanted to try sitting on the toilet so we slooowly made our way to the bathroom, me clutching onto Shanna's back and having 2-3 contractions just to get the ten steps there.

Anthony came into the bathroom briefly to see what was up, and Shanna tried to step away and let him have some time with me but I knew he was starting to get a little distressed by my noise and all the commotion. Just as she stepped out a contraction started I all but pushed him away and managed to say, "No, Shanna!" and made a grab for her. So she came back and Anthony took off to grab Ray, who was wakened by all the yelling I'm sure. (If he'd even slept at all, I don't know how long he was up there.) My "ohhhh"s and "ahhhh"s had become "AHHHHHH"s and "OHHHHHH"s, although I did manage to keep the tone lower (sometimes with suggestion from my support people) to avoid any screaming. I wanted off the toilet so we decided on the birth ball in the hall near the kitchen. It felt pretty good but it became pretty clear I was pushing with contractions here so La Shel asked that I move to the bed quick to get checked before I started pushing in earnest.

Again, this took a couple of contractions, but we made it and found I was complete! Only 20 minutes after the midwives arrived at 7cm. (Which I'd like to think would account for all the bellowing, thank you very much.) At some point in here Anthony had taken Ray for a walk up to the park. He'd tried bringing him downstairs and Ray wanted to come see me, but every time I started yelling he would get scared and hide his face in dads shoulder.

So I digress, they checked me and immediately grabbed an amnio hook and started talking about breaking my water. I closed my legs up quick, able only to say "nooooooo!". Jamin got down in front of me and explained quickly that the bag of water was really bulging and might be making the urge to push stronger at this point. She said also that I could push against the bag quite a while but it may slow down the baby coming. So I agreed and they broke it right away. (I love it, communication, respect of my wishes, it's wonderful stuff and really how hard was that? To explain it to me quickly? For all that I was in labor land I was still able to process her words, make a decision, and even remember it all.)

So the pushing begins! The pool had been emptied but was by no means full again. For a few minutes (entirely to appease my desire to get back in the pool and not in preparation for it actually becoming a reality) my mom continued filling the pool so I could get back in for the birth. I tried hands and knees but kept squatting back with every push, sitting on the babies head is not the best way to get him out! I was not terribly comfortable anyways. So I tried side-lying, and that's what we stuck with. They tried to keep me pushing slowly to avoid tearing too badly, but it was SO hard. I'm a pretty strong pusher anyhow and my body was taking no prisoners, I was pushing whether I wanted to or not and there was no half-assing it. I could either not push (very hard, lots of "blowing out the candle") or push like the dickens. So we went back and forth, go ahead and push, then wait hold it right there wait wait stretch stretch and then relax. Up until the last push or two that birthed him he turtled right back in there between contractions. I thought before hand that having that happen would really really discourage me but in the moment it was kind of a relief.

I was able to look down with a mirror and see his fuzzy head, and feel the squished up patch of skin that was emerging. Just a moment later (and wow, did pushing ever hurt. HOOOOLLLYYYYYY CRAP guys, that burning/stinging SUCKS) and his head was out, it was so cool feeling his shoulders pop down into the heads previous location, and I must say alot more comfortable. Another small push (same contraction) and his shoulders came easy, and La Shel told me to reach down and grab my baby. Some of the sweetest words I have ever heard in my life. So I reached down and grabbed him, although they had to slow me down because his legs were still in there! One last little "umph" and he slid out, and my mom leant a hand as I brought him to my chest. There really are no words for how amazing it was in that moment. I could live there in my head quite happily. :)

He gave a couple little squawks but really didn't cry much at all. The cord was once around his chest, which I know scared my poor Shanna a bit but it wasn't compressed or tight at all. There was ALOT of cord, and the placenta came flying out hot on Dorian's heels. A smaller chunk had seperated from it, and that took a little bit of pushing/coughing to come out, but out it came. The next 20-30 mins I just lay there holding onto my boy. Just a few minutes after the birth Anthony returned from the park with Ray, their timing could not have been more perfect.

(For those wondering Anthony and I both knew and accepted that while he was comfortable with our birth plans, he was not keen on being present as he gets pretty distressed. He ended up being around for almost the whole labor, and he was so supportive and loving and relaxed it was just fantastic. The whole environment was 100% better for him, not just me.)

So at 2:25pm, weighing in at 8lbs 8oz and 21 3/4" long. After 2 days of gentle labor at home, roughly 6-8 hours of that being active labor, and one hour of crazy omg transition/pushing, I gave birth to my baby boy right here in my living room, on an air mattress. As some of you may recall I ended up with two tentatived due dates, one Oct 5th, by a 16 week dating ultrasound and fundal measurement that seemed supportive of that date, and Oct 12th, by last menstrual period. Towards the end of the pregnancy I decided for my sanity to go by the later date of the 12th. Well Dorian was born without a speck of vernix, loooooong fingernails, and very pruny hands and feet. La Shel marked him down as gestating 41 weeks 3 days, which I agree with. I do bake them long, but it was nice not feeling like the days were just dragging on and on, counting and worrying as I got later and later. He came right at the perfect time, when he was ready, with no coaxing at all. :)

My Apology to the Universe

I had one of those awesome awkward moments tonight, when I completely and utterly embarassed myself. Thank you mama, for inadvertently pointing out how hard I fell on my face not so very long ago. (And I mean that honestly, it was something I'd not thought of in a long while or how much I've changed since then.) Barb was witness to my uncomfortable side-stepping and back-tracking as I awkwardly tried to make myself look like a little less of a dumbass, it probably didn't work so well. Lol.

Anyways, enough with being cryptic. At dinner tonight when I mentioned an old friend of mine (and I've mentioned her on here numerous times I'm sad to say, my neighbor in Spain that had her baby a week after we had Ray) that, looking back, I'm surprised stayed friends with us. We were all reasonably close, as couples go, had quite a bit in common as we all liked to play World of Warcraft, weren't really big on the local social scene (lots of bar-hopping), ended up having our first children around the same time. But man, in secret we were so harsh on them. We talked alot of shit, that I'm really not proud of. Compared ourselves to them frequently over all kinds of things, and getting pregnant just made it worse.

I see now that we were starting at such opposite ends of the spectrum just to begin with. On top of being, DUH, totally different people in different circumstances, everything was different from the start. We got pregnant on purpose. They went off birth control, but were surprised. I was super thrilled, she was unsure how to feel at the start, in spite of being my elder by a few years. I had a breezy, chipper first trimester that involved an obscene amount of food consumption and sleep, she could barely keep food down and didn't want to leave the house. And it just went downhill from there. Once I got over my initial fears of learning about birth I started devouring all the information I could get my hands on. She reluctantly borrowed Dr Sears The Birth Book from me much later in the pregnancy, but did end up reading it and feeling a bit better about what was to come.

I never really thought before tonight about how much she's taught me about myself, and oh it has not been pretty. I never really embraced our differences, I stuck my nose up privately and consulted my Bad Mother measuring stick. It really strikes hard when I consider how I held her up to my Bad Birth measuring stick. Her birth was my first chance to use it, and I did. I see now even before I realized I was at all unhappy with my own birth, I was sneering at hers. Back then, by george she'd had it EASY. She'd been induced (gah, "just like me!" again!) and had quickly progressed. By quickly I mean it didn't take two days. She'd gone in for a normal appointment on an empty stomach, was found to have low fluid and rushed off to be induced. After laboring (and starving) all day, she got the same half-assed epidural I did the week before, and before they even had time to fix it (as they had for me) she was pushing. Or rather, the nurse was pushing with her, on the top of her belly. Her little girl was born vaginally but still had a bit of fluid in her lungs. Something happened postpartum with bleeding or the placenta, I'm not sure, but the poor woman was so weak she could scarcely hold her baby until they got home. Little girl spent days hacking up fluid with an IV splinted in her arm.

Before tonight I'd not thought about her birth in, well, a very long time. I wonder now that I ever saw that as easy or better for ANYone. I wonder what awful, callous things I said to her when I was lost in my own confusion and hurt in the following months. I know some of the awful things I thought of her, as I shared them on here and with other friends/family. (Not so much about her birth, I think, but her parenting in general got sized up frequently as we really had no other new parents in our circle of friends to splash our judgement upon)

Please don't take it wrong here, I cannot blame the shitty friendship I offered her on my birth experience, as I know we were doing it long before Ray came into our lives. I'm starting to think it's no wonder they preferred to hang around on base (rather than go explore Spain) with people like us offering our companionship.

To take this in a slightly different direction now, I'm getting a handle on my pride. I don't think I fully understood how darned full of myself I was. (And AM, as long as I'm attempting honesty here) I thought, before my first ICAN meeting a few months ago, that I was doing pretty darn good on my path to recovering emotionally from the birth. At the beginning of this year I had a wake up call on my attitude that lead to me being able to be happy for another woman for her birth. To empathize with her over things not going as she'd planned, even though for ME it would seem like an ideal birth, I could understand that for her it wasn't. That HER experience of it was what mattered, and not my very biased judgement of it.

Then I went to ICAN. And look at me! Look at how well I'm recovering! Look at how at peace I am! I could barely get through a cliffs notes version of Rays story without breaking down. Insert screeching tire sounds here! What was all this emotion still hanging around about? My pride plodded on though, oh it was just being able to talk about it openly. Yes that was it. I'm not still harboring bitterness and negativity, right? His birth brought me to where I am today! I LIKE it here!

Last month I went to the BOLD Red Tent Event (which is fantastic, mind you). I didn't share. I heard stories similar to mine, and not. I laughed, I cried, I fought with myself about whether or not I would share. I knew it would probably be a good idea. I didn't do it. After it was over, I talked to a few ladies I knew, and jokingly said that maybe I'd share at the October event, when I had a story worth sharing.

Worth sharing.

I'm crying even typing it out. Because my god, even with all the negativity, it IS worth sharing, right? But quietly, at that event, my measuring stick came back out, and it was held against myself. I even got into a bit of a spat on facebook recently over this very thing, and didn't even realize it was the very same thing, because I was applying it to myself. We hear so often in birth culture about women educating themselves as though it will cure all birth ills in our society, and that has come around to bite me. Because I felt (and still feel, I suppose) that I really did. Sure, I didn't know everything, but I thought I'd read a whole damn lot. Enough to know that what I agreed to was a Bad Idea. How could I possibly share when I'm still so ashamed of the choices I made?

I talked about it again with Shanna recently, and she told me that maybe I need to forgive myself already. This honestly surprised me, and I see now that it shouldn't have. Another of my ICAN friends mentioned how she believes she needed her first birth to go the way it did so that she could let go the choke hold on control and running the show that she had. I just realized...that's me too. I don't really blame the hospital staff/doctors, for the most part they were very nice, and did the best they could within the scope of what they know to do. It's ME that I hold a flame over. Because I knew SO much, right? But then I wonder if I'd really, truly known better, maybe I wouldn't have made all the same decisions I did.

Can I ever let it go? How do I walk the line between acknowledging the part I played in his birth, and chalking up alot of mistakes to naivete? Where does self-awareness end and overblown pride begin? *laughs* Can those two co-exist at all? Does it make me feel better somehow to grasp at that little dangling string of control, to say that I really had a say in all that went on? To pretend that I was truly given a choice at every turn? Is this some kind of fucked up coping mechanism?

How do I forgive myself? I really, really don't know where to begin. But I'd like to.

Edit: Aha! Entitlement. I think that's alot of what it came down to. I felt that somehow, because I knew more, I was entitled to better. Not to be confused with just being deserving of better to begin with, because we ALL are. Analogy time. One woman spends months and months researching a product she wants to buy. She finally settles on a store online, buys it, and everything goes to hell. The company ships the wrong item, loses her order invoice and won't take a return or refund her money. Another woman buys the same item, minus the research, and has the same issues in receiving it. Because she didn't do all that self-educating, is she more deserving of being screwed over, lied to, or otherwise taken advantage of?

No.

And yes, there are many reasons, GOOD reasons, I agreed to do things the way I did. And I know this, I'm just working on accepting it. Off to bed with me. :)

On the Road Again

Well, not really the road. More like a figurative road or path. I need to get back to blogging.

I'm a mess. I really am. I don't even know where to start, because there are like ten different places I could start at. I'm lonely. I'm exhausted. I'm frustrated. I want help, but I feel like it has to be an emergency to ask for it. I need a day off. I need to not be the one responsible for a few hours. I need some freaking help. I need attention. Companionship. To feel like I can just be with someone else, an adult, for a few hours, without hassling them.

I need time to pass so I can stop waiting for all these things. All these things I have no control over. Anthony is due home in a few weeks, so they say. We keep looking forward to it, all but counting the days (he's too busy, I can't count anymore) until this mythical day. And yet...it's scarcely three weeks off. And he still has no itinerary for the flight home. How much can I believe in this date? (Not much, being the military. I won't believe he's going to be here until I can see him) In the meantime everything gets post-poned. Things I want to do and see, because I just can't.

More things put off for the baby. Not that I begrudge him that. But there are so many things I WANT to do, I NEED to do, and I can't do them until something ELSE happens. And I have no control over that something else either.

I guess that's where I'm floundering. I don't want to be in control of everything. But I'd like to have some say in SOMEthing. I know alot of this is unfixable. I don't know if this is even a cry for help because there's only so much people around here can do for me. Is it me? Am I too afraid to ask? Are they too afraid to offer? When I hear myself asking for their time, I hear desperation. Because I AM desperate. For just a few minutes of time. After being the friend that no one put the effort into for so many years, it's very hard for me to go back on my commitment to NOT be the only one calling and suggesting we hang out and whatnot. What's wrong with me that I always have to be the one to make the effort? (A little less true these days, as I've mentioned I just don't feed into those relationships anymore. If you're not going to make the effort to strike up a conversation or call me sometimes with hopes of spending time together, then I'm not entirely interested.)

Now please don't take me wrong. I'm not trying to place blame anywhere but on me. I have had alot of trouble asking, because I feel like I should be able to give in return, and I don't know if I can right now. Whether it's money or what have you. I can't even see myself doing a kidswap because, well, I don't know anyone local with kids and it scares the hell out of me. I don't know why. It shouldn't, because I'm about to have two to look out for anyway. But then maybe that scares the hell out of me too.

Because even when Anthony does come home, will the fabled help arrive? How many fights will we have because he's expecting a break and family time and I'm expecting...what? HELP. Time to get away. To go see a movie, or get my hair done, or just walk around a store without chasing a toddler (who does NOT want to stand still and look) or listening to said toddler scream and whine because he hates being trapped in a stroller? Time with friends? Will they suddenly make time for me once I don't have to take the tag-along with me everywhere?

One of my biggest fears...is that he won't BE home. That it will be Texas all over again. He was working so many hours that it felt like he lived on the ship and came home a few nights a week, for a few hours, to visit. I don't know if I can handle six months of that, and then right when Dori is going mobile, he's gone again. Another summer alone. Another summer of things I can't go and do because chasing two around a water park alone sounds like the total opposite of a good time.

How many times will the cycle repeat? I'm scared to death of what will happen to us and our family, what little intimacy remains, what little friendship, over the next year and a half. I'm weeping even writing that but it's true. The navy is taking us for all we're worth, and I'm not just talking money. My god I would give back the bonus in a heartbeat if we could undo the re-enlistment. I would shoulder back under all that debt we paid off with it. I would give back the two cars and spend more time on the old one, yes the old ratty sentra with no AC, if I could have the next four years of our lives (starting 2011) back. If one more idiot rants at me about how we should stick it out ELEVEN more years (after the next five) for a shitty retirement that we can't even live on I will punch them. In the throat. (This includes you, Mr "We're very well off thanks to retiring, bought a house, I ONLY WORK HERE BAGGING GROCERIES AT AGE 70 FOR MY HEALTH". You can stuff it.)

This is the military divorce rate. It's not cheating spouses and work stress. Those things play part, but they are not at the root of it. It's dragging families halfway across the world every year or three, dumping them in a new place with no friends, family, or outside support, and then sundering that family even further by removing the service member frequently, for long periods of time. And then we're SHOCKED that there are so many broken families in the military? We were not meant to raise children this way. The amount of stress it puts on a family is absolutely staggering. And it's all a slow buildup over time. A pecking, a nudge, a piling on of straws. And you know what happens when you carry too much straw.

(Quick aside: Our marriage is as well as can be expected. We don't have any major issues between us, just an understandable lack of intimacy given our circumstances the past year +. We're nowhere near divorce or any such thing. Truly. We just need some well-earned time together as a family to knit ourselves back together again. Thank god he has a ton of leave saved up.)

Ok, I've had a good cry, calmed down a bit. Feeling pretty drained from writing this out. There's more, but I don't have the strength to type it just now.

Linkses

A couple links to some excellent posts made recently on the subject (more or less) of the crabs in a bucket trend seen on many "mommy boards". Jill (of Keyboard Revolutionary) is frustrated by the complaint of many moms that they feel inadequate when faced with the opinions/decisions of others. Joy (of House Fairy) fleshes out another angle that will get you thinking, that perhaps it's because girls don't brag.

Great reads, I hope you enjoy. :)

Hooray

It's been an interesting week around here. I finally made it to my first ICAN meeting, which was just fantastic. It's still flipping and spinning in my head, as I examine this and that. Things I need to work on, things I need to let lie, ways I need to prepare for Dori coming, and so on. I think I'm back to being ok with Anthony not being there, and agreeing that it's probably best all around that he's out. Plus Ray will be with him (hopefully) so I'll have him out of my hair and I won't need to worry that the sitter might not know to do X or Y. I like the idea of having Ray at the birth, but realistically it's a terrible idea. Not that I think he'd be upset by it, indeed I've never seen him upset by me being hurt or crying, but more the fact that I know he'd get clingy with me. The more I pull away, the more he clings, and I would go NUTS. I already have trouble some days when he's being good but just pawing all over me, like he can't stand to be within two feet of me for whatever reason and NOT touch me, and it gives me this gut-deep reaction of OMG GET AWAY NOW. I got it with Anthony too when I was pregnant with Ray, I was so physically overwhelmed and emotionally spent that being kissed on the mouth was unbearable. Like I was trapped and couldn't escape and oh god let me be free. Kissing anywhere else was fine, but it's SUCH a strong reaction that there's really not much I can do with it except say "I love you, but I need you to do something else".

I think I'll end up relying on my mom alot. (Hear that mom, be ready!) Of course things may be different in labor, but that's just how I'm feeling now. I definitely need/want Shanna around, but our relationship is different. I'm usually quite snuggly with my girlfriends, and she and I really aren't. We're totally comfortable touching each other but when it's not "necessary" (neck massage for a headache and the like) we don't do it much. I think it's her more than anything, she's not into cuddling and projects this "2 ft of personal space required, please!" vibe that I pick up on subconsciously. I dunno. I probably won't care in the moment who the hell is counter-pressuring my back as long as it's BEING DONE, OK. Any neck-clinging may be reserved for mom though. :) I think Shanna will be helping most energy wise, helping keep the tone in the room right, making sure nothing negative is affecting me, keeping up the block between Anthony and I, and so on.

Again, we'll see. It'll be interesting to find out how things will unfold. I'm not really set on how it'll go because I really don't know. I was very clingy when I labored with Ray (before the epidural but after labor got HARD) but I was also stuck in bed and hammered with insanely close/long contractions. Basically scared out of my mind and fighting it tooth and nail. So as I expect labor to be alot different when not drug-induced and hindered by machinery, so I expect that my reaction will likely be quite different.

I do know that right after the birth I'd like things kind of quiet and mellow, at least after the initial HOORAY! Lol. I don't want people in my face or pawing at Dorian. Pictures/movie are both fine, as long as there's not a bunch of flash and talking is kept to a minimum. Now is not the time to chat about who he looks like and what we'll be eating for dinner. Now IS the time to be making sure Anthony is on his way, if he's not arrived already. I would like him to receive the same respect when he meets Dori, give him space. At this point perhaps we could be left alone for a bit, he'll do the bonding deal better when other friends/family aren't around. Wait on pictures until after this. (OK get ONE picture lol, then shoo for a few minutes) He does love you mama, but for whatever reason incessant pics when he's having daddy/son time bug him. (He gets pissy with me too sometimes)

I dunno. I'm rambling now. Obviously none of this is set in stone, just me thinking out loud. Putting it down so I remember to bring it up with my midwives and see what they usually do directly post-birth.

Well I'm off to watch a show (Nurse Jackie) and then to bed!

Open Letter to Kirby: How not to sell a vacuum.

Yesterday I was bamboozled into sitting through a demo for Kirby vacuums. This, dear friends at Kirby, is the first thing you did wrong. I'll start at the beginning.

At roughly 3pm yesterday I was greeted by a knock on the door. Very surprising, given that I know no-one in the neighborhood and was expecting no packages. I was greeted by a young bubbly college student, and she chatted with me most pleasantly for a few minutes before she got down to business. She talked very quickly, but mentioned that a few of my neighbors were getting carpet cleaning done, and so I was being offered one free room, it would only take an hour! I had been offered something similar a few months before but turned it down out of hand because I wanted a NAP. My mind went to the vomit stains that I'd failed to remove from the living room, and so I agreed.

I knew, being free, that this was some kind of sales ploy, but at this point I really thought that this was for a steam cleaning service. Like, "Here, we'll do one room for you and then offer the other rooms super cheap" or whatever. And that would have been fine, truly. She promised to return in 10-15minutes, thanking me profusely.

Mistake #1 Kirby, not being upfront with your customer. Already you've started off your sales pitch with misconceptions and lies. I worked briefly as a Cutco representative (knives) and we were not allowed to cold-call people or go door to door. We could only call someone referred to us by a customer, that had agreed to being called/receiving a demo. This GREATLY increases your chance of sales and hey, then you're being honest to start. (I only stuck with Cutco for a week mind, and they did use some of the same tactics used later in the demo, but I think they started off with better footing.)

So I scramble to get all the toys off the floor in preparation for my "cleaning". Now two young men show up, carrying massive boxes. The vacuum. Of course. They try to eaaaase me into the demo, mentioning how he would have to vacuum the floor before the shampooing. Meanwhile my two year old is waking up, and we can all hear him making noise on the monitor. I'm still kind of in this "they're only here to clean" mentality since they haven't really come out with it yet. I tell them I have to get my son, and that he'd get in the way of the cleaning so I would keep him upstairs a bit so they can work. Looking a little panicked E (the salesman, the other guy left) asked that I at least poke my head down sometime so he could show me how the vacuum works. (I'm thinking, perhaps, that you push it around on the floor and it sucks up dirt? Just maybe?)

15 minutes later I return. He's covered about a square yard of carpet. Laid out on the other side of the room are 100 little white/black circles of paper with bits of dust and dirt on them. It all became clear to me in this moment: it's a vacuum sale. Damnit.

Let's take a moment here...I have a Dyson. It's less than a year old. It's one of those new fancy Ball vacuums you may have seen advertised, though it's the small version. It still cost me $400. It's a fantastic little vacuum, and I use it almost daily. LOVE it. During all this it was sitting in plain sight, with two days of dirt in the canister. QUITE a bit of dirt and hair, I might add. From this room. My last vacuuming (at the point of the demo) was the day before. I gotta say...I was really unimpressed with the amount of dirt he got up. Furthermore? Thanks a million for aggravating my dust allergies by leaving all these stupid things all over the place. And now my 2 year old is running through them and rolling around in them. GREEEEAAAAAT.

And he continues to lay them out all over the floor, while I literally, physically, FIGHT with Ray to keep him out of it. GET A CLUE. I saw the amazingness an hour ago, pick it the fuck UP already. Even after asking if we could stack them off to the side he still didn't get it.

After this we sit down and he does his little demo's, my vacuum vs his. He takes mine partially apart, after saying that all vacuums are built the same and that the motors ALL only come from two companies, he obviously has no clue how my dyson works. Further, my Dyson's motor is in the ball, I find it a little hard to believe that it's the exact same kind of motor in all the bissel's and hoover's and that I paid $400 for packaging alone. (Speaking of, isn't Dyson a foreign company?)

Anyhow, I think that selling a product with negativity is kind of a bad plan. You bamboozled your way into my home, I have things to do that are time sensitive, and I'm having to fight my own toddler in his own home to keep him from upsetting your dirt pile. Which, again I say, made its point AN HOUR AGO. CLEAN IT UP.

I know when the last time I vacuumed was. I know how well it gets up baking soda. I know my own product, so just show me YOURS. I'm not an imbecile.

I had a pretty valid reason for disliking the Kirby and it flustered him a bit. I don't want a bag. Certainly not one that lasts 6-8 months. I like my canister because I have a toddler and I'm forever vacuuming up FOOD. I really don't care that your super bag (which costs MONEY) will hide the smell of rotting food in there. I really don't want that in my house. GROSS. They cut me a pretty good deal (if you can every call a price reduction on a $3000 vacuum that cleans marginally better than mine a good deal) but when it came down to it, I don't like the bag. I don't want a gazillion attachments filling my closet. I don't want to carry that metal beast up and down the stairs. Also? You took over two hours to clean one tiny spot of floor. I know this wasn't the vacuums fault, but now I have this feeling that doing even one room with this thing is going to be a long, drawn-out chore.

Yes, I could probably scrape together the monthly payment. But really? I just plain don't want that thing. And he guilted me for it, calling "the boss" 8000 times so they could go down the list of allowable price cuts to offer me. (It's like playing Deal or No Deal! LOL) I know how this works. This thing is not worth $2900 and we all know it, because if it was no salesman would agree to a $1000 price cut. And then "he'll pay your down payment out of pocket!". Oh, so now it's personal. E acted offended, like I had personally kicked his friend, his boss, in the nuts, by refusing this generous offer.

Some of this comes back around to knowing your demographic. This is military housing. We are not rolling in dough. AND, it's MILITARY HOUSING. As long as I don't completely and utterly decimate this cheap ass carpet, they're not gonna care when I move out what kind of vacuum I used on it. I pointed this out to E, that maybe if I owned my own house and really cared about the life of the carpet, then having a higher quality vacuum might matter more to me. But I already, for all intensive purposes, have a move-out date a few years down the road. And I know that they'll likely just replace this carpet regardless when we do so. My allergies are well enough in hand thanks to MY vacuum.

Then, after he finally finished the shampooing (quietly, pouting, because I would not be getting him 1/2 sales for his CRUISE IN WYOMING) he took over half an hour just putting all the pieces back in the box. (LOL WYOMING AND A CRUISE WTF?!)

Don't get me wrong, he was a really nice guy, was great with Ray if a little clueless on the dirt circle pickup. I'm really not blaming him personally, because he's just selling them as he was trained to do.

And what it comes down to, is becoming an annoyance. They try to be so freaking annoying that you will sign on the dotted line just to get them OUT OF YOUR HOUSE. Whether this is the original intent or not I hear the same story time and time again so I know it's not this one guys personal technique. You are teaching them this. Which is also a huge turn off for me. Sorry, ask my husband how good I am at saying no to buying things! I will go to a store for one thing I really want, walk around with it in my hot little hands for ten minutes, then decide I really don't need to spend money on it and put it back. It's really not hard for me.

Sorry Kirby, your vacuum just doesn't do it for me. Work on your sales tactics. I just lost all respect for a 95 year old company.

Really?

Am I just being overly emotional here? I had a good evening with Ray and was feeling a little emo, and posted this to facebook (yes yes, I know when I post it publicly I need to swallow whatever comes):

I miss him on the hard days, where nothing goes right and Ray and I just can't seem to make it work. But it's the good days, where we stroll the mall in the evening air and Ray stays close, charming passerby...when it hurts.

I wasn't really trying to wax poetic here, just keep it short and sweet since facebook does have a character limit and nobody wants to read 98234987 character status updates. A close family friend, a kid who I used to babysit and is now 18 but still horribly naive, comments: ok, very poetic, I'll give you that.

He is forever posting walls of text like this:

I won't lie. I am torn between 2 forces: power and love. I want to be able to protect those whom I love with acquired power, but at the cost of losing that love? Or do I want to love, at the cost of not having that power to protect them? How will I ever achieve either if I cannot conquer the darkness inside me? And how will I conquer my fear of losing both the power and love altogether? May His light guide my way...

WTF? I managed to quell my snark and not thank him for approving me missing my husband. I just...don't even know what to make of it except that for whatever reason it pisses me the hell off. Just had to share my ire because on top of no husband, there seems to be no one online to chat with and I'm lonely. *sigh* Did I mention that they yanked facebook on his ship? (Not his ship's decision, as they'd allowed it, but whoever is above that pulled the plug. WTF. So now we can't share pics at all unless he's in port. Sucks.)

To go, or not to go.

Parent movie morning this week is of course, Harry Potter. Hallelujah! Maybe. It's at 10am, and a much reduced price. Lights are kept dimmed, and the movie is played at a slightly lower volume. Kids can run around, and there are diaper changing facilities in the theater.

Ray is...a handful. He doesn't sit still for long. He opens doors, grabs peoples cell phones. He plays LOUD, lots of yelling. I will probably spend the whole time running after him because as I mentioned, he's a door opener. He might sit still for a few minutes, he does like popcorn. I dunno. I guess I should at least give it a shot. Who knows, he may surprise me. And I sure don't have people coming out of the woodwork wanting to help me out or watch Ray a few hours. *sigh* Yeah I know, woe is me. Just been worn out and totally emo lately.

And Anthony (at some point here) will be in Dubai. I am so goddamn jealous, it looks like about the coolest place on earth. >.<

It's disturbing.

This has really been making the rounds in the bloggin natural birth community, and now I can't resist adding my two cents in. Mostly just links for you, to what others have said, women who have experienced far more than I on the subject.

"Pit to Distress" is causing quite a stir. It started with Jill of Keyboard Revolutionary, bringing up her own findings online about the term "pit to distress", which refers to the practice of upping the pitocin on a laboring woman to at worst, force a crash c-section, and at "best", steamroll her into an unsafely fast labor and/or other interventions without worry for her safety or that of her baby. She continued her thoughts here.

Nursing Birth writes about her firsthand experiences as an L&D nurse with physicians who practice this. The other Jill, of Unnecessarean weighs in, twice even, with more interesting information.

As I'm sure many others are, this is really making me double back and consider the induction of my son. This is the best definition I can find of tachysystole. By the sounds of it, it's hyperstimulation of the uterus before it causes major issues for the baby. I'm kind of considering it the warning sign, to sloooow down the pitocin. Perhaps my mom could weigh in here, because she probably remembers the time frame a little better than I do, but as I recall after they broke my water and cranked the pitocin I hit this point. For hours. After they were already "worried" about hyperstimming my uterus since I contracted so quickly. (As I remember it, I was having contractions that lasted 45 seconds to a minute, with about 15 seconds in between) Granted, Ray tolerated it well. Thank god. But from what I'm reading above...I was not. If I HAD been tolerating it well, then sure, it could have just been part of my contraction pattern and reasonable to continue the pit at that level.

But I wasn't. I was crying through every contraction, panicking when they came on and begging "No no no no no". I don't have a good grasp of the time here, obviously, which is why I ask my mom. I do remember that even in between contractions, there was still pain. I've still not had an answer, from any professional, about if that is normal or "ok" or not. To me it seems like it's likely a bad thing.

Now, given what I know of the hospital I was in and it's staff, I would have to claim ignorance and naivete on their part. It's a teaching hospital, and they seemed clueless on so many fronts. I don't know how much this may have contributed to the c-section, beyond helping me along on my path to "needing" an epidural. (Which one nurse, when I mentioned going natural, laughed in my face and told me their epidural rate was 99% and that only women who were irrationally afraid of the needle said no) Could there have been an element of wanting to prove to me that I too, couldn't do it?

I don't know. I guess this doesn't change anything, but it makes me wonder even more. What the hell were they doing? Were they really that clueless, that they were playing around with the life of my son? I never knew I was giving them permission to needlessly play around with his life, and for what? It wasn't a busy hospital. Their paycheck was not dependent on my birth methods and how many interventions were used. I was only one of three women that birthed in as many days there. And that was "busy" for them. One was a scheduled c-section, the other came in well into labor and had pushed her son out in a few short hours. Most times when I went in with preterm contractions, I was the only one there. Doubting that they were overworked and horribly exhausted by it, beyond the usual military BS and long hours.

I'll probably add to this later in the day if I can think of something to say beyond shocked rambling.

BABEH

Ultrasound completed. Placenta is good, and properly positioned. :) The tech said that if your bladder is really, really full, it can push the cervix up closer to the placenta and give you some false worry. Interesting, that, seeing as how at the time my bladder was torturously full, with me moaning in pain. Fucking idiots. So maybe being bitchy that your "patient" didn't have a bladder full enough didn't get you much anywhere. Perhaps showing her who's boss by not letting her pee (when she knows it's not necessary at that point to have a full bladder, and apparently detrimental) really didn't help you in the long run.

Anyhow. Minor rant aside. The ultrasound was really nice. Ray was decent, did start losing it towards the end but it could have been worse. The Dr (totally forgot his name, I suck) was really nice and chatty. I also found out (thank you, civilian world!) it's really not necessary to bear down with the ultrasound tool as though you're trying to reach my spine, just to get a picture.

(Don't get me wrong, I know there are kind, caring medical professionals in the military. I have met quite a few. The CNM's at Miramar were very nice. I know military or civilian, when you get a bustling hospital that's likely understaffed you're gonna run into some shit.)

Anyhow, really, I'm done whining now. LOL. It was fun to see Dorian again, he looks so much like Ray. He's really shaping up to be a cutie. :) True to family form, he impressed the tech with how active he was. My belly was rolling all over the whole time. Also true to family form, he refused to roll over to his other side, no amount of flipping me over, poking and jiggling would convince him. He's head down. Estimated 2lbs right now (yes, I know this can be off, but basically he's measuring right on his dates, the amended ones), and his darn feet are already 2" long. LOL I should just donate those tiny socks already. No child of mine will fit them I think. EVER.

Here's a link to the album on facebook (it's the public link, so no account required). If you haven't added me yet, feel free. :)

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=91650&id=754444809&l=d5cdc25e2d

Woowowowoowwwoooo

Good day today. Aside from Navy fed calling me at 6:30am. I mean honestly people you have my HOME ADDRESS. Is it that far a jump to just wait till, say, noon your time to have your automated crap call me? SHEESH. I suspect Ray slept a bit crappy last night, as I heard him moving around at that time, but I managed to get him back to sleep and we snoozed till, oh, 9 or 10? I think 10.

Got the DMV form for my license. Appt next week to get that done, and still no sign of the folder with all my Important Stuff. Ugh. I know it's here, best friend was sitting right next to me, where I sit now, as I showed it to her, and now it's just poof. Gone. Very not cool.

Also picked up a copy of my glucose screen results. Woo. And made the appt for my ultrasound (to check the placenta) tomorrow. Decided to forgo being treated like shit a third time at the military hospital. Once you've been treated like a human being by medical professionals it's hard to go back. :S

Dorian's room is going swimmingly. Got both coats of the light blue on the walls, and it looks fantastic if I do say so myself. (And I do) Looking forward to starting in on the darker blue here very soon.

Ugh, I'm worn out wracking my brain over that damn folder. ARGH.

Well

Ok, I'm done. Done being pregnant. Sign me the form to get the baby out. Lol. I am soooo less than thrilled with the contractions! Why did they have to come earlier? I mean, I guess it could be good, maybe I'll get to real labor a leeeeetle earlier, but there's still like, 3 months till then. Curses. After fighting through grocery shopping (comissary on payday, yes it was almost suicide) the darn things are about non-stop. They don't hurt but christ it's uncomfortable, makes it hard to move/bend, and wears me the hell out. I should NOT be this tired after sleeping till 9:30am! I really want to tidy up the floor in here (Ray asploded everything) but just can't bring myself to do it because I know it'll make more contractions. Ugh.

Maybe it's time to chill in front of the TV.

I was good today and got the insurance paperwork sent off. Yay, go me! I hate paperwork. I also sat in line for a while (thankfully in line IN the car so Ray was able to jump around a bit) and got my base sticker. And it's good for three years. :O Was NOT expecting that! Both cars have new registration, which means they also expire at the same time. Makes that easy.

It was so weird driving my car again after these last months in Anthony's. Weird but nice.

I'm getting excited about the birth. :) And not because I'm uncomfortable lol, for all that I bitch I'm really NOT ready to handle a newborn just this second, and it'd be nice for Anthony to see the belly a bit when he gets home. We've had a rash of rather inspiring home VBACs and home VBA2Cs and some in the hospital and just, wow! So much triumph, so much victory, so many women getting the true fruit of their labor. (Har har har) It's restored a bit of my mojo, me thinks. Also, pondering the whole "late" deal with Ray, and wondering how much his tilted head had to do with that. Maybe this one will come a bit earlier. We'll see.

For now, gonna relax on the couch since the contractions are getting more bothersome and I don't want Dori to come THIS early by any stretch.

oisajfoiwjfe

I know there are a million old wives tales about getting your labor started, but does anyone know of anything besides sex that is tried and has worked for you. If I don't go into labor on my own by my due date I am scheduled for another C-Section. I am trying to VBAC. (DD was breach)

What works? Walking, Syrup of Ipicac etc.......

Honestly, I could just scream everytime I read shit like this.

Firstly, the "due date". I hate the due date so much because it's SO misleading. UGH. And then to schedule a section right on the date when her previous was for a breech baby? Whaaaat? I can KIND OF understand when the c-section is, say, on a big baby that got held up during pushing and was "past due". I don't agree with it, but I get it. But the senseless hacking away at our abdomens has gotta stop. For serious.

Uh, sure, k.

Went to the beach tonight for an hour or so. Had a small debacle involving Ray locking himself in the car, with the keys. I'd put him in there to climb around while the others finished packing up and getting dressed, carefully holding the keys IN my hand because he was suddenly all over that lock button. Things were taking a while so I sat for a moment in the drivers seat and got some tunes rolling. (As in, keys in the ignition) As I'm doing this the driver side door is open. Ray is more interested in playing behind the wheel so I get up to switch to the passenger seat, closing the door behind me. Well, somehow in those thirty seconds he'd locked it without me noticing. (The locks in the Sentra are quiet, and in MY car you can't lock the doors when any are open. Apparently this is not the case with the sentra!)

Enter half an hour of begging Ray to play with the locks more. We get a cop/meter maid to call us a tow truck to pop the door open. After a while waiting he wanders off, another cop pulls up to check on us. He too attempts to convince Ray to play with the locks to no avail. Asks if we checked all four doors, and I tell him I had. (Here is where I admit that I didn't, I checked the front two but you hit the lock button, they all lock, you know?) He walks over and opens the back passenger door. Ray had been playing back there for a while through all of this and must have manually unlocked it without us noticing. MAN what a relief, especially with money running tight at the end of the month. (We HAVE money, but it's set aside to pay the midwives, I'd rather not touch it unless it's freaking DIRE)

So we averted a big bill, but he still took down my name and info, and Ray's name. :( Said they would keep an eye out for any recurrences and if it happened more CPS would be notified. I know it won't come to that but man, way to add insult to injury. And I was being so damn careful with the keys too. ARGH. (Somehow through all this I did manage to stay calm, although I about lost it after he left and things were resolved, partially from relief and partially embarassment, and getting my name "in the system" in any way. Ugh.)

Just got done watching Dragonball Evolution. First off, I'm sooooooooo glad I did not pay for that in any way. *cough* Secondly, as expected it was pretty awful. I was hoping that even if they fucked with the story, they would at least get the characters halfway right...and I was sorely disappointed. Granted I'm not as big a Dragonball buff so much as a Dragonball Z buff, but I know enough to know that that shit was OFF.

Also, I know it was low budget but the badness was just BAD. It felt like a badly dubbed kung fu movie. Not that kung-fu movies inherently have such terrible scripts (I know there must be good ones out there when viewed in their native tongue) but somehow it still had that awkwardness of dialogue, like they couldn't quite fit the lines in as they were meant and so they took some liberties and it just sounds awful. But it's an american film!

I hate that it's high-school era. It really watched like a bad fanfic come to life. Ow. I think I definitely need to dig out some real DBZ to cleanse my mind of it.

Weoijfwaoifjwaofj

So nice to know our children are getting good "lessons" from cartoons. Just saw the last few minutes of a show on Cartoon Network (6teen) and was greeted with this gem of an episode.

Two of the guys (main characters) had taken two girls out for the afternoon together. They went shopping, bought things for the girls, while arguing with one another because one of the guys was apparently going against his usual style by being "nice". Shelling out cash for the girl, being extra polite, and dazzling her with talk she was interested in, namely golden retriever puppies. (There was no puppy present or involved, apparently this is just universal get-the-panties-off talk for 16 year olds) Towards the end of the date the one (not-nice) guy bought a round of capuccino's for all four of them, which met with extravagant compliments from his date on his generosity. So he asks if he can be her boyfriend, and she turns him down, and she and the other girl explain they were enjoying being friends, and went on with the usual bullshit about how the guys were TOO nice and they liked their men to be dark and treat them like crap, so they could "fix" them. The guys, stunned, walk off to converse for a moment, both SO SHOCKED and APPALLED that they had been USED and that all the politeness had failed to help them "score"! They remarked that it was "too bad the girls have no money" and walked out, leaving the bill for the girls.

Totally mature guys. On every fucking level. I don't even know where to begin this steaming heap of shit gives me such a headache.

Ugh

I think my heart just fell into my feet. At my last ultrasound they found my placenta is "low-lying", and within a few centimeters of my cervix. If the placenta actually covers the cervix it's called placenta previa and leads to a whole list of fun things. Mostly, a c-section.

At any rate, I'll have another ultrasound in a few weeks to make sure it's moved up (which it usually does). But out of curiousity I was reading up on previa and found that one thing that can increase your chances of previa (or even low-lying placenta) is, you guessed it, a c-section. It made me feel sick reading that. That having one really CAN increase your risk for another, and not just in that "the doctors will MAKE you!" kind of way. I mean, I knew that was true. But to have it affecting me personally like this...ouch.

Taking care of tons of this and that today. Would be getting more done but Ray started off the day by puking three times. He seemed to be feeling better the last hour or so, and just went down for a nap. Here's hoping that was the last of it! I could really use a few errands this afternoon when he wakes up.

I suck!

I know I know, I suck at this. I'd like to at least say that I've been busy, but mostly there's no excuse. I've had plenty of time the past few months to update this, and I just haven't felt like it.

We just got back from seeing my family for a few weeks. It was so nice to get a bit of relaxing in. We spent the first week sick as dogs, then my grandma came, then we had a few days to cram in stuff around town and then it was State Track meet in Myrtle Beach (for my "little" brother) and flying back home again.

I will not be flying with Ray again in the near future. For one thing, I will not be flying ALONE with him, and for another, he will never again be a lap child. Two in August! Ack! But yeah, he was pretty horrible on the plane, through little fault of his own. He's a squirmy active boy that prefers running and jumping and playing to, well, anything. And he really has trouble sleeping unless he's on his tummy. He's been like this since birth, so I can't really blame him for it. But it did make for a really miserable 14 hours (total, there and back) of my life. Thank god he's so darned cute that the folks sitting next to me never really complained. Because woo doggy, I was ready to just fall apart or jump out the window. Having a quickly disappearing lap probably did little to help.

Speaking of my growing gut, Dorian is doing fantastic. He's nearly as active as his brother, and we hit a milestone yesterday. First time he's spent hours and hours with a random body part jammed into my ribs. Owwwwww. Must have found the deep groove worn into that spot by his brother. Seriously uncool. For the most part though, I'm really enjoying this pregnancy. All my walking about in SC seemed to get my endurance up a bit and fast forward some of the adjustment period to being larger. I've also been eating so much better this time. I won't blame it all on just being a pig last time, I really was just RAVENOUS, and I'm not this pregnancy. Which is good. I've still only gained roughly 15lbs. I'm planning on heading to a nearby park (big nature trail kind of park) quite soon to get some walking in. It's still quite cool here, and most days not even sunny. I think Sunny Southern California is a big fat tourism gag at this point.

Ray is...a child. He's really not a baby anymore. Every day more of the baby recedes and disappears to make room for the child. I love watching him use his imagination to play out various scenarios. The other night my roomie tripped on a toy of his, exclaiming loudly and limping a few steps after. He then spent ten minutes miming her, kicking a toy, falling to the floor while yelling as though in pain. (Obviously a much over-acted version of her reaction!) We couldn't help but laugh. We can barely get him to eat "kid food" these days, he wants what the adults are eating. Usually he'll go up the stairs with one hand on the wall, but a few weeks ago he looked up to find my hand on the banister and now he stretches himself up to use that instead. While playing with a few (slightly) older boys the other day he would give orders and generally boss them around. If they did something well, he would clap and loudly cheer "Yaaaaaaaaaaay!". He's quite the bossy pants but he tries to be nice about it at times. Lol.

Anthony is doing well. Work work working. We're a little past the halfway point in the deployment. Three months to go! I'm so unbelievably happy that he'll be home well before Dorian emerges. I want to give Anthony some time to better adjust to me being pregnant. He left before he could even feel him move or hear a heartbeat. He's seen ultrasound pics, and belly pics, and of course heard me talk ad nauseam about it, but I can't help feeling that even with all that it might not feel really REAL without a little time home to adjust, seeing me lugging a giant belly around so it really sinks in. It'll be a big enough adjustment just coming home without having a new person already there awaiting you! Yes, I know military families do it all the time, and we would manage if need be, but it's not our first choice by any stretch.

Well I could just go on and on but I don't want this one post to be too terribly tl;dr! May update again later tonight or tomorrow.

Sorry!

I seem to have neglected this blog a little, and I apologize. We've been floating on through life, and until the last few days there was really nothing of import happening. But now we have news!

We found out a few days ago at the ultrasound that we're expecting a baby boy! And it seems almost overnight since then he's grown a huge amount. For the first time yesterday he was up knocking my ribs around, MUCH to my delight. *cringe* It's the beginning of the end, folks. Here's a couple pics that we got, including some 3d shots since I was kind enough to agree to let them practice on me with their new fancy machine.

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=91650&id=754444809&l=d5cdc25e2d

That same day I got news from Anthony that he should be home closer to mid-early sept, rather than mid-late october. This makes me soooooooooooo happy on so many levels. Precisely the kind of timing we were hoping for when we planned this kiddo, so I would have some help through the hardest stages at the end of pregnancy and Anthony would be here for the big arrival. (At least in the area, hehe) Everyone cross your fingers, pray, do some hoodoo or sacrifice a virgin goat in your backyard in the hopes that they don't change the plan on us too drastically. :)

So that's our good news. Time to send out another email and update the Fam.

Annoying!

Ugh, way to kick a girl when she's down. So I got the smog inspection (passed, duh) today for a mere $50. *gag* Found out I can register in the same office with the military and only pay $122. Plus no DMV hassle.

And then I discovered I somehow have no freaking clue where my current registration is. Magically not in my glove box, which is like, where these things are kept. And now searching around the house I'm finding I have an entire folder of important paperwork (or two) with like, birth certificates (including Rays', which took EIGHT MONTHS to get) and the Title for Anthony's car and the loan paperwork for mine and OMFG. I know it can't be far because I dug out Rays SSC the other day. But who knows if my registration is in there. And if it isn't, then I have to mail in a request to TXDOT for a new copy of expired registration just so I can switch it over here. Honestly, is it that hard to walk your ass outside and look at the plates and sticker? What else could be on there that's so important?

Just remembered that in the meantime I guess I can be driving Anthony's car instead. BLARGH. Having to lift my ever-growing ass in and out of those nigh ground-level bucket seats really excites me. But at least I'll be legal. Boo I say!

Off to go pout and apparently, write up a request to TXDOT for a new copy of expired registration. Most useless waste of $3 EVER.

Blargh!

Goddamnit. I have to get registration for my car. In the next, uh, two days. Fucking cali is about to double their registration fees. (I hate you california, so much) Since it's expired I can't renew it in Texas without going in person. UGH. And the stupid sticker has a dark blue back so it's nearly impossible to read from inside the car, hence it's expiration in march without my noticing. Not cool.

And of course this happens right when the roomie is gone for the week. So I get to drag cranky pants with me all over creation. I guess first on the list is the smog inspection. Oy Vey. It's a 3 yr old car, doesn't it pass automatically? Ugh.

Not much else going on here. We just fought and won a small war against ants. Yuck. And I've got a trip planned to see my folks at the end of the month. (And assorted other friends in that area!)

Went to see Star Trek last night, which the baby approved of. All she did was kick about the whole time. :) And no, the "she" is not official. I just hate saying "it" or "the baby" all the damn time. We'll know on the 21st of this month, hopefully!

Also got the initial down payment done with the midwife, and signed the contracts. If anyone would like to contribute to the "We're going to be fucking poor for the next 4-5 months" fund, please let me know. ;) We still owe $3k that needs to be paid by, like, september something. I have no clue what my due date really is anymore so calculating 36 weeks is difficult.

Speaking of, we apparently conceived about a week earlier than we thought. On the last ultrasound she measured almost exactly a week large. Then at my last (and very first) appointment with the midwife she felt my uterus and said it felt pretty big, that it's definitely not just a big baby but we're further than we thought.

The nice part? This puts my biologically "due", the 40 week mark, on Oct 5th. But she's leaving my due date as Oct 13. And they're already comfortable going to 43 weeks. So really, there's no rush whatsoever and I can go as long as it takes. I don't think I'll need anywhere near that long, but just the fact that no one will be putting a timer on me, or setting dates for inductions or repeat cesareans is what I needed more than anything this pregnancy. It's such a huge weight off my mind like you would not even believe.

So, on to stressing about other things. ;)

Baby news!

Little more specific update here, on the babby!

We still don't know boy or girl, we MAY be finding out monday, it depends on the ultrasound tech we get and how willing they are to peek for us. Everyone hope and pray we get someone who's game!

Baby is growing and kicking good. We've seen her on one ultrasound so far a few weeks ago. I think I'm already keeping a better handle on my weight this time. With Ray I gained over 50lbs. Yes, 10lbs was baby but recall that outside of being pregnant it's basically impossible for me to gain weight regardless of diet and lack of exercise. (They prefer you gain 25-30 at worst) I was just plain RAVENOUS with him. I ate all day and most nights I had to get up for a piece of cheese or crackers. I tried to just moderate things, yes eat the junk but eat good stuff too. So I'd end up with fruit/cottage cheese for breakfast, a monster salad for lunch with tuna and olives and such, and then whatever for dinner. In between having my chocolate milk and soda (not more than one a day) and ramen and a big bowl of ice cream and on and on. Then the last month or two I was just so miserable that I said screw it, I'm going to be fat a few more months and enjoy it and indulged in the reeses and twizzlers and everything.

I've had a few people ponder whether I had mild GD or some form of insulin intolerance, and I suppose I may have, but the more I think back and really remember what I ate, the vast quantities, the quality of it...I just never eat like that. Don't get me wrong, I love food, I can pack it away, but it was ludicrous. And I know part of it really was just ravenous hunger, and add to it leading up to the pregnancy (which happened faster than we'd ever imagined) I was actually malnourished and a smoker. I lived on ramen, hot pockets and pasta. Played World of Warcraft over 40 hours a week. (Which I still don't regret, it beat the hell out of being a party girl/becoming an alcoholic and blowing all our money on that. And I've made some good, lasting friendships.)

So yeah, it was a massive diet change. This time I went into the pregnancy a bit healthier. More active, still eating tons better than I used to. I did smoke, but I cut back/quit easily in the process of becoming pregnant. Had my last one the morning I bought the pee stick and promptly tossed the rest. The morning sickness was not as bad this time (and it was pretty darn mild with Ray) and I'm not as crazy hungry. I'm fine with three solids and a small snack or two. My meals aren't huge, and while I do still indulge a little I'm aware of it. I'm watching it, and limiting myself. I really haven't gained, and what I have is more than likely due to muscle from climbing the stairs. (My first time living with stairs, ever. My ass went KAPOW in the first two weeks here. It's hot.) By this time with Ray I'd gained 8-10 lbs. I've gained about 3. A little boob, a little thigh/butt, and some belly. I popped out of my pants immediately, and I'm quickly retiring shirts. But half that is not tons of mass, it's just that everything is already stretched out. I have a cute little belly!

So yes, we're doing well! The new house is fabulous. Little bit of issue with the neighbors but we're trying to counteract the bad vibe with good. Give them the benefit of the doubt and send love over there. If nothing else, it sure can't hurt. Keeps us calmer, and good for our karma. ;)

Well then

It's been a little while since I've updated. Things are happening at a steady pace I suppose.

Switched midwife care for a few reasons. She had family obligations come up, and for us not having our insurance cover her was clearly going to be more of a problem than we bargained for. Yes, the navy gave us clearance to move early, but gave us no extra money for it. No gas money for the drive out, nothing to set up utilities or finish off old bills at the old place, and no way to cover first months rent since we arrived here too late for this months BAH to go straight to them. (Err, March's BAH) So yeah, it's been a little tight.

Anthony is doing well, they're working him hard. He got a promotion of sorts, he's work-center supervisor about eight months sooner than we thought he would be. He expressed some nerves about it but I know he'll do great. He's a good leader, a great teacher, and I think he's perfect for the job.

He may end up staying a month longer than we planned, almost assuredly missing the birth. Which sucks, but what can you do?

Oh, and we found new midwives (thanks to Barb - the first - for the referral!) and I think things will work out nicely with them. I just switched over my insurance today and greatly look forward to starting my care for real! AT LAST!

Ray is doing fantastic, and growing by leaps and bounds in every way. He's a Spongebob FIEND. It's one of the words we hear most throughout the day. "Spob-bob" this and "Bobbitz/bobbick" that. (That last being Patrick, somehow.) He's actually got quite a list of words, I started compiling it just for fun and it really shocked me after a few days of building it!

no
stop it
grape (geep)
please
bite
Caca (the dog)
callia (the dog)
ok
spongebob
patrick (bobberz/bobbitz/bobbick)
go
eyes
nose
dad/dy
mom
fish
shoes
this
that
you're welcome
thank you
ball
yuck
sit
uhoh
pretty
baby
butt
starbuck
what are you doing?
juice
good one
(oh) wow
dog/doggy

He yells at the dog ALOT. Lol. He's turning into QUITE the bossy pants. But we suspect it's helping divert some of the frustrations of his age, and she takes it pretty well. Lol. Poor thing. Morning noon and night we hear "Caca, no! Caca, stop it! Go! Go!" and so on. And a few mornings back he heard a different dog barking outside and yelled "Doggy stop! Doggy no!". Impressive that he can even differentiate the barks!

Don't do Tmobile in California dudes. Save yourself the headache. I think I'm switching to Cricket in the morning and I'm quite excited. Looks like it's EXACTLY what I need and while they don't have much coverage nationwide yet they have it here and in Charleston (where my folks are) so that's all I'm really worried about. Can you beat unlimited talk/text/long distance for $45/month? I think not! I'll be distributing the new number as quickly as I can, please feel free to email me if you get missed or if you've never had it and would like to text/chat, hit me up! Addie is dbz_dee at hotmail dot com. I've had the same address since I was 14 so don't expect it to change real soon.

He lives!

Anthony made it to Bahrain safe and sound. Yay! A little sleepy but none the worse for wear. The crew was split between two different commercial flights (there's only 80 guys on their ship) and one went through London and the other through Frankfurt. Anthony was thankfully on the Germany one because alot of the London flight lost their luggage. Hopes and prayers that they recover it because a whole sea bag of uniforms is not cheap and some of these guys have families they're supporting as well. Not to mention personal items, laptops, and lord knows what else.

Still more ups and downs here. Got the deposit from the land-hag (yay), but it was very little and the summary of deducted items was beyond infuriating. I won't go into all the drama, but one of the things she charged for was the repair of a hole above the AC unit. Her grandaughter fixed the hole...with that expanding/hardening foam. That you can buy at Lowe's for a few bucks. 1. I could have freaking done THAT myself and 2. She took off FORTY DOLLARS for it. FORTY. FOR FOAM.

Took a few hours and a hot shower and plenty of tears to cool off. While I'd love to threaten her with the full brunt of Navy Legal at my back to reconsider the amount...we really need the money. Asap. And I refuse to get all behind on bills again. (Granted then and now it was not because we were living extravagantly or being foolish with the money, it's just feast or famine with the military.)

It's famine today but we're waiting for BAH (Basic Allowance for Housing) to start up for this area, and we should be getting back pay on that for this past month. Plus we're waiting on Dis-Location Allowance (DLA) from the move. That's my midwife/catch up on bills/relax money.

Speaking of, I love my midwife! She rocks. :) Just had to add that. (She's over on my sidebar, the wonderful Navelgazing Midwife)

The up and the down.

Here I am showing off my new shirt with my boy. What better fashion accessory could I hope for?

(And hey, that's me in the background too, being held by MY mommy!)











10 Weeks and 4 days in this one. Popping out of pants left and right and losing a few shirts as well. Boobs are up to a C so the fact that the belly is out beyond the knockers says something! It's hard to believe I'm scarcely a week from the second trimester. This week, getting Tricare set up and lots of blood drawn and such if possible. Everyone pray the navy catches up our pay soon!









Anthony got a new hat to take overseas with him and keep the heat off. (And the sun off his poor balding head!)



Yum.

Living the military life kinda sucks right now. The next six months started early this morning. He's safe and sound back in Texas for now, waiting to leave with the rest of his crew. Thoughts and prayers for their safe journey please! And for some understanding for our little dude, when we got home alone he looked around the house calling "Daddy? Daddy?". Broke my heart. :(

Dreaming of you

Oh boy, the pregnancy dreams. Gotta love em.

Last week I dreamed I went into labor, it was all fairly painless, and I birthed the baby easily. Didn't even tear! It went so well I was all "get me pregnant again right now, that was SO easy!". It was the feeling you get when you happen across a crazy bargain, like "well as long as we're here and it's cheap let's GET FIVE OK". LOL.

Then last night I had another one. I gave birth to her super early, like 20 weeks. (For those that don't know the youngest baby to have survived, given todays medical advances, was born around 24 weeks) She was born in the caul (a ziploc baggie O_O) and well, being so young and tiny she wasn't cute. Miraculously, she was already pushing 3lbs and breathing easily on her own, no NICU stay required. She was small enough to fit in one hand and we just swaddled her up and took her home. Weird as it was (and in reality, uh terrifying and impossible) it started the "I don't wanna wake up" feeling because I wanted to keep her. Hate those dreams. Oh, that birth was a little more difficult, not terribly so but I was in "the zone" for a solid two hours.

So yeah. Today at Target I was all "DAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW" over the girl clothes. They had a wittle pink newborn sleeper with crocodiles and giraffes and pink elephants. I was all HOLY SMOKES girl clothes without FLOWERS or BUTTERFLIES?! Zoo animals are not allowed for girl clothes GOSH. (I'm so going back for them.)

I'm proud to announce that I unpacked THREE large boxes in our bedroom tonight. The house is slowly coming together. (Well, really effing quickly compared to the last place we lived, lol.) The kitchen is all but done and if I could just convince Anthony to rearrange the living room we'd be set. I told him before the furniture even CAME I didn't want it set up this way but since I wasn't here for the movers he did it anyway. ARGH. It's such a nice big open space and I hate having the couch right in the midst of it. I hate having to walk all the way around the couch too. It just doesn't flow and doesn't jive with the big, open playroom feeling I was going for. Thankfully there's nothing too heavy in there so if need be Shanna and I can do it once he leaves.

Which is entirely too soon. :( We're going out to a BAR tomorrow night though, it should be fun. Lord knows what I'm going to do for 3-4 hours when I can't drink or smoke. Sigh. But hopefully it'll be fun. (Did I mention it's a two hour drive home afterwards? But he's been DYING to take me to it since he was out here last year.)

So anyways, that's us. We're having tons of fun. :)

On the fly

Inquiring minds want to know, where did Stassja go?! (Hurr hurr I made a rhyme!)

We have moved! We are safe and sound in our new home in San Diego, the drive was pretty and the move went pretty smooth. Probably our smoothest so far. (Once we get our pay working right, our only thing that's not gone 100% to plan)

Pregnancy is going good. Met my wonderful midwife and her apprentice and I think we're a great match! Looking forward to being officially in her care within a few weeks. (See above pay that needs to be worked out)

Nausea has lessened aside from a few short bouts a day, and I'm not overly tired, just a little. Having a little bit of clothing trouble because my maternity clothes are mostly summer wear and it's a little cooler here (especially where we live within the city) than I can handle in shorts or capris. And the pants I have are for when I'm HUGE, not good for now. So I'm kinda stuck with one to two pairs that fit and praying it heats up soon.

I will catch you guys up some more when I feel up to it, I'm staying busy around the house and around town and trying to get things settled in here. I don't want a ton of boxes lying around this time since I know we'll be here a while!

tonight ROCKS

Yes my pretties, tonight does ROCK. And I'm TOTALLY not high on paint fumes. I was also absolutely not painting doorways and covering baby pen marks on the walls or painting over the whole strip of cabinet that Ray pulled off to disguise it...at 11pm on a friday. Nooooooo, that was not me! I didn't think the paint smell was that bad but now I'm feeling kind of loopy and holy shit you should see how many typos I'm fixing here. (You'll never see one of those fun typo-ridden drunk type posts from me, the spelling nazi overcomes even alcohol and paint fumes and reigns supreme, stomping on the backspace as needed!)

We had a pizza and coke night with MJ (my cousin) and her family. Leon (her hubs), Natalie (their 2yr old) and Julian, their sweet little 1 month old. Humorously enough, they're driving out to California tomorrow to see her parents (my aunt and uncle) and we're driving out, to nearly the same area, next week! So yeah, we just chilled watching TV and let the babbies play. They were both very good together, despite being a little grabby with each others sippy cups.

Also fun? RIGHT when they drove up Ray was on the back of the love seat attacking the blinds. (And I kid not, he ATTACKS them) I start walking over to pull them up, saying that I didn't want him to break them when I hear "CRACK" and the whole bottom part busts in half. (You know, the cheap vinyl shades you see in every house) I know it won't be that much to fix them but it's just one more stupid thing. UGH. I'm sooooo tempted to tape them together and see if it'll slide. LOL. As it is one of the living room light fixtures has a busted bulb in it. I tried unscrewing the thing and the whole glass part just busted off. Thankfully it's covered so you can't even see it until you get up there and unscrew it. HAH. I feel kinda bad leaving it for the next tenant but honestly...it's all I can do not to burn this place to the ground. Stupid overpriced hell hole.

Tomorrow is outdoor day. We gotta get the dryer to the curb (or something, meant to stop by the city hall today and ask what we do with it but forgot. Damn) and Anthony has to mow the lawn. THAT should be buckets of lawls because his lazy ass has not mowed the back even ONCE since he got here. He bitches to the guys at work that it was all long (front and back) when he got here (although admittedly, at least I did mow half the back and it was obscene even then) and I have to point out that at least my excuse is that I was alone with a one year old and suddenly have a grass allergy! (Yes, I broke out into hives all over my neck and shoulders. It was fantastic) He's just laaaaaazy. Aaaaaand I have to sweep all the nasty ucky buggies and grass out of the garage. Stupid roaches go in there just to die. *shakes fist*

Ok, I think I'm about typed out. Later bitchez!

That crazy boob nazi

I hate the term boob nazi, btw. I'm of the opinion boobs should be FREED, although I'm not too keen on all the "sex sells" business. Because it's usually women being used as a slice of hotness to sell, rarely men.

Anywho, I didn't write this, but thought it was good! (I also think there's more to the nursing in public controversy and I'll try to find a link to the opinion I most agree with)

Society is so sexualized that they have forgotten what nature intended
our breasts for in the first place. They throw hissy fits over
breastfeeding in public and expect us to feed our babies in dirty,
stinky bathrooms. So I ask you to judge for yourself, which breasts are
truly offensive here? And I understand some of you won't think ANY of
them are offensive. But I am making a point by showing how ridiculous
it is that society looks upon scantily clad women in sexy ads as ok,
even GREAT, but providing important nourishment and nutrients to your
child in public by breastfeeding is offensive, distasteful, disgusting,
whatever. Give me your feedback. :)


Wait... well, this is a bad example. Let's try again...

Hmmm... just a minute. Surely i can find better ones than these...

Eh... still not racy enough. I'll check one more time.

That's better. LOOK AT THAT! I see about an inch of boob! Totally disgusting.

Ugh! Look at that indecency!! She must be from some third-world country to be exposed like that!!

Now that's just... There's no words to describe how inappropriate that is. Something needs to be done!!



Now
this takes the cake!! How dare they actually put such a disgusting
image on the cover of a magazine where teenage boys might see it. This
simply must be disposed of ASAP via a shredder, before teenage boys
learn what boobs are really for!!


This just makes me want to vomit!

...but why stop at breastfeeding women? There are boobs
everywhere. Beware! If you thought the above photos were offensive, you
WILL DEFINITELY be offended by the photos below.




Not this one though. This was in plain view on newsstands and in mailboxes in 19 countries worldwide!

Not this one either. This one actually won an award!

Oh, and i guess this ones fine too, since everyone knows you can't sell jeans without someone being topless.

or beer, for that matter!

or sunglasses...

or movie tickets...

or CDs...

...you
know what? Maybe I'm crazy, but i think that someone mixed up some
photos here. The first batch are offensive, but the second batch are
just fine and dandy???

people who live in glass bras:


shouldn't throw stones:








Which message is healthier?

Breastfeeding which is medically approved to give HUMANS the best start in life. . . or


Images that promote STD's, unattainable beauty standards, sexual promiscuity, plastic surgery, and just plain TRUE indecency?

Which would you rather your daughter live up to?

Ifyou think women have the right to breastfeed their children no matter
where they are, please re-post this. The least you can do is help some
children get the best nutrition they can get. Breastfed babies have
lower instances of obesity, asthma, allergies, certain childhood
diseases, learning disabilities, and other health problems. For each
woman who feels like she shouldn't be breastfeeding right where she is,
there is an innocent baby who is losing out. Don't be responsible for
any child's health problems. support breastfed babies and their right
to eat in public like the rest of us.