Twenty-Four Hours.

Today, Saturday, marks the one week point.  It’s been one week since the bleeding of miscarriage began.  One week since I sat on the toilet, with Braden happily splashing in the tub to my left, looking down at the blood in disbelief.  Just one week since I began crying hysterically as more blood came.  One week since I fumbled the phone, almost dropping it into the toilet, to give my husband the worst news I have ever delivered to anyone.

One week since I laid my face on the floor next to the bathtub crying, begging out loud that this not be what I thought it was.  One week since I sobbed uncontrollably there, and Braden giggled in response because he thought I was laughing.

Last Friday night, I took this photo.

I was tired and emotional after watching a movie and thinking of an old hurt.

I attributed much of my emotional response then to pregnancy hormones.  You know how they are.

Almost exactly 24 hours after I took this photo, I started bleeding; miscarrying.

Twenty-four hours after that, I was waiting with high anxiety and nervous trepidation to visit my doctor the next morning for blood tests.

Twenty-four hours later yet, I was standing in my kitchen, having not received the test results yet, speaking to my (empty) uterus with fractured, clinging hope.

“Are you still in there?  Is it possible?  I love you.  Please fight; please hold on, little baby.”

That night, I fell asleep while I repeated the same thing over and over again in my head.

“God, please let my baby live.  God, please let my baby live.  God, please….”

The photo is sad irony. 

It is a perfect portrait of how I feel right now.

All I can hope for is for each new 24 hour passage to take me closer to whole again.

I’m scared.

A Whole Lotta Hodge Podge, Yo.

So, for today, you get a hodge-podge of totally random crap, just because it’s floating around in my head.  Aren’t you lucky!?

Why yes, yes you are.  (Just smile and nod in agreement.  Don’t disagree with the crazy lady.)

So, first off, when I did the post with the video of Braden and the Bubble Machine, several of you asked about the bubble machine.  IT IS AWESOME.  Just my humble opinion.  Braden has loved it from the very first time we used it, and, I will childishly admit that so have I.  I’m a sucker for a bubble – that’s why I call them tiny packages of happy – and a machine that spits them out non-stop is a machine Momma likes.

It’s from Summer Infant.  I first saw it from OneStepAhead, but you can buy it cheaper at Walmart.  (Those last 2 links go right to the product, btw.)  I picked ours up at a local Walmart, so no shipping and the base price was lower.  I made sure to tell you about both, though: for the cheapies (like me) and the Walmart Haters (like me, but who aren’t cheapies).

***

Next up, I wanted to mention that “Operation Potty Familiarize” has begun.  No, we aren’t exactly expecting Braden to be Potty Trained at 15 months.  What we do expect is that familiarizing him with it now will make things much easier in the future.  And?  He has peed a nice long pee in the potty twice this week.  YAY!

(And do you care? I dunno. But I like to talk about poop and pee, so there you have it.)

We have this Baby Björn potty:

given to us by my sister (the one he’s peed in twice), and we just bought this Graco potty:

for its many cool features (like cushioned seat, easy to clean collection bowl, and removeable ring for use on toilet) and b/c Veronica at Toddled Dredge said good things about it in her potty review.

***

For those of you who are following my Hashimotos Thyroiditis Escapades from me revealing my problems to the lab work and how my vagina fell off, and then on to finally hearing back on my tests… the latest news is that:

1) I still haven’t paid my lab bill of $387.  Better pay it.  We’re about to incur even MORE expenses…

2) I FINALLY heard back on an appointment with the Endocrinologist (after waiting for only a week and a half – yay for prompt medical attention!) and I have an appointment scheduled for January 28th.

I would like to mention that neither my doctor, nor any of the nurses, have decided to give a shit that I walked into that office and told them that I have been feeling very depressed lately.  I was told that I would not be receiving an anti-depressant to help with that since the underlying medical problem could be the cause.  Of course, they didn’t refer me to a therapist or counselor of any kind either.  Just have to wait over a month to even have an appointment to get that checked is all… sure hope you don’t kill yourself or anything in the meanwhile… Is that responsible patient care? Just wondering.

***

While responding in e-mail to comments left on the Screamie McGee post on Monday, I found myself sharing a gem with a couple of folks (MP and Bill), and I decided I’d pass it on to all of you, because it made me chuckle.  So, it follows:

[As per Braden's screaming lately:]

John and I have decided that we are partly to blame.  Braden sees us yell when we get mad.

Me to dog: “NO! NO! BAD DOG! GO GET IN YOUR BED! LIE DOWN! STAY!

John to TV: “NO, NO NO… YOU IDIOTS! BLITZ! OOOOHHHH, THAT WAS A HORRIBLE CALL! I HOPE YOU DIE!”

Me to John: “STOP YELLING AT THE TV, DAMNIT!”

Both of us to Braden: “STOP SCREAMING, THAT’S SO ANNOYING!!!!!!!!!”

It’s like, uh, spanking your kids for hitting? Heh.

So, part of our battle plan [to rid us of The Shriek] is a kinder and gentler John & Lotus.  No more yelling to solve our problems.

Damnit @ kids making us be better people!

***

Are you clicking all the links?  Don’t make me record your ISP and find out where you live, only to hunt you down and obsessively watch you through the window of your home, while clenching a hunting knife between my teeth.

Cause, I will SO totally use it to cut through your cable line.  So there.

Now, go vote for me in some of those categories on the right sidebar.  Not because I’m threatening you or anything, but because you honestly think I’m funny, like my parenting tidbits, dig my photography, and find me to be a hot mommy.  Even though I have a muffin-top and backfat.

The Doldrums

So, the past few days have been… okay.  Ups and downs.  A high desire to just sleep.  I’ve only threatened John’s life a handful of times, and I swear, I have been limiting my thoughts of poking him in the eye with my thumb to a minimum of 5 a day.  In all fairness, every time I tell him, “I’m going to slap you,”  he responds with, “I’ll punch you in the face.”  So, you know, I’m obviously not the only one with anger issues around here.  Also, there is still no desire for business.  Please pray for John’s continued sanity.

As part of my desire to be a better mother, I’ve really been working on my “closet problem” with Braden.  Although I haven’t been able to stop myself from putting him in there frequently, at least I’ve limited the amount of time he had to stay there.  Two hours at a time is really kind of me, right?

Additionally, The Mexican has still been spared the fate of the microwave, although I do have to admit that I’ve recently been considering putting him in the crock pot instead, anyway.  Less mess, and who knows?  He might be nice and tender… I’ve been so lazy about preparing meals lately….

Oh, yeah.  The jerks still haven’t called me with the results from my thyroid labwork. But guess what came in the mail today?  THE BILL.  The MF’ing bill.  Including a test for Thyroid Antibodies, WHICH I DIDN’T NEED.  See, I have ALREADY been diagnosed with Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis.  That means that antibodies have already been detected.  And there’s this thing about your body where ANTIBODIES DON’T JUST DISAPPEAR.    I am livid about having this bill in my hand already when I have been given no results, and I am livid about the cost. 

THREE HUNDRED EIGHTY SEVEN DOLLARS. 

Did you choke?  Cause when I saw that, my vagina literally just fell off my body.  Hey, I haven’t been using it lately anyway, so, no big deal, right? But come ON!  And, of course, the test I didn’t need was the most expensive one.

So, you know… I’m just a tiny, litte bit PISSED OFF.

The weather is not helping my mood.  Today = Grey.  The clouds are grey, the sky is grey, THE WORLD IS FREAKING GREY.  But no snow!  No, not here!  If it has to be so dreary and bleary and cold and crappy, it would be nice if we could have a gee golly winter wonderland out there.  At least then it would look SHINY as well as WHITE, instead of GREY.

Seriously.  I hate this.  Outside, it looks like if you tasted it, you’d have that bitter aspirin taste in your mouth.

Today, outside tastes yucky.  And that makes me sad.