Archive for April, 2010

A story involving blood and mucus

This is a story involving blood, mucus and shoving things up bodily orifices that should not have things shoved up them.

Hey, where did everyone go?

In other words, it’s the story of Olivia’s birth. Actually, she had already been born at this point. So it’s a story about 20 minutes after Olivia’s birth. There is also a placenta involved, but only momentarily.

So, I had just given birth to Olivia, and my placenta (that’s the placenta reference we discussed earlier. The word placenta will not be mentioned anymore this post, you may look at the screen again.) successfully also delivered (there were problems with that the first two times…later though because it would involve mentioning that word that I promised we wouldn’t mention). I’m staring at this slimy thing now attached to my breast and cooing over her when the midwife, Lauren, grabs my attention.

“We have a small problem.”

While she is telling me this, I notice that in her gloved hand is not only blood, mucus and other bodily fluids, there are four small white pills.

“That’s odd.”

I think to myself.

“Why would she put those in her hand when I have to take them? Now there’s blood, mucus and other bodily fluids all over them. That’s kind of gross. Actually, that’s really gross!”

While I’m thinking this, she continues to tell me the problem.

Lauren-“You’re bleeding, a lot. In order to stop the bleeding, I have to give you these pills…up your butt.”

Me-“Oh I can take those orally. I know they are covered in blood, mucus and other bodily fluids, but it is MY blood, mucus and bodily fluids. I don’t mind. Hey, no really, I can swallow those easy.”

Well, you can imagine, she didn’t take me up on my offer. Those suckers “Entered” where things should only “Exit”, the bleeding stopped and I didn’t die.

I also now only take medicine that doesn’t resemble small white circular pills, because seeing them brings back bad memories.


Is this thing on?

So, yeah, I noticed. It’s been a while. I didn’t write, I didn’t call. It wasn’t you, it was me. It’s been so long, I had to request a new password because I had forgotten mine.

I started another post to tell you all about what I’ve been doing (and not doing) and it was very depressing and angry, because that’s how things have been the past five months. I was going to tell you why and then decided against it. I can say that I have stayed away because it just would have been a bunch of whiney posts about how miserable I am, and that gets old. I would have written things that I would come to regret later.

So here we are, five months later. Things are not completely better.

The biggest thing right now that has me stressed out the most is that there is a baby inside of me, which, honestly, is completely uncool. Back in November I tweeted/FB’ed about contemplating a fourth. The first thought I had when the pregnancy test came back positive was “Three is a VERY good number.” I still believe that, and in 20 weeks, there will be a fourth. This thought has brought me to tears on numerous occasions the past three months. Until recently (well, after the first trimester BS), I was able to forget for a little while that I was pregnant. It is now obvious that I am pregnant to anyone out there, not to mention the pokes and prods I feel from the inside. There is no forgetting now. Everything I do I wonder how I am going to do this with four. How am I going to do this with a baby? I am completely done with dealing with a baby. I just don’t want to do it anymore. I’m tired of the diapers, the neediness, the crying because you want something and I HAVE NO CLUE just what that is! I don’t want to potty train another one. I don’t want to convince another one “You REALLY need to nap!”. If this one needs a binky (3 for 3 so far), I don’t want to have to go through taking it away. Bottles, baby food, blankets, umbilical cords I DON’T WANT TO DO IT AGAIN!

And do you know what else? This whole growing a baby inside of me, it’s not beautiful, it’s gross. There is a human inside of there. A real live person. Pregnant bellies, yeah, not attractive at all. I’ve been fortunate not to have a turkey timer belly button, and that is good, because that is really weird. It’s not cute, it’s not funny, it’s gross. Sorry, but this whole pregnancy bit is weird and gross. I. Don’t. Like. Being. Pregnant. Don’t try to convince me it’s not with your “Miracle of life” BS. There is a human inside of me fucking up my hormones, bouncing on my bladder and making it difficult to breathe. Uncool.

I’m sorry for all of those who are pissed at my “ungrateful” attitude. I know there are women out there who spend thousands of dollars in order to hear the pitter patter of little feet and here I am, finding myself pregnant after breathing the same air as my husband and, quite frankly, there are very few things I want less right now. All I can do is offer you hope that you will one day become pregnant, but don’t hate me because I am and don’t want to be.

Don’t tell me how lucky I should feel that I conceive so easily and how women would kill for that. YOU CAN HAVE IT!

Don’t tell me babies are a blessing. I will not suddenly realize how wonderful this “gift” is after hearing that. In fact, it’s possible it will be the last thing you say and then I’ll have to raise my “blessings” through prison bars. You wouldn’t want that now would you?

DO NOT tell me that I don’t really feel this way BECAUSE I DO! I’m not proud of it, but do not try to tell me how I feel. I AM ANGRY!

Last but not least, don’t bring God into it. Just don’t.

So that’s the bad news. The good news? It’s a boy. There’s that at least.

I promise not to be angry next post. Which may mean I won’t be posting again until William Patrick is potty trained.