Showing posts with label new baby. Show all posts
Showing posts with label new baby. Show all posts

Out of the Blue

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

It's been almost a year since I really cried about not having another baby. It happened during BlogHer in New York. I was outside the American Girl store of all places. I went from perfectly fine to crying my eyes out in seconds. The same thing happened while I was watching Parenthood last night. When Julia told Joel she "wasn't done", I nodded along. Yes, I thought, I can relate to that feeling. But when Christina told Adam she was pregnant? I completely lost it.

I knew the decision wouldn't be easy. I even told Phil there were no guarantees I wouldn't hate him every so often though that's irrational and totally not fair since we made the decision together. But I wasn't angry with him last night; just really, really sad. Surprised too, because I thought I've moved on and learned to live with it. I guess I was wrong.

Music Soothes: Living With the Decision Not to Have Another Baby

Monday, March 1, 2010

*Giveaway info at the bottom of the post. Read it carefully! 

I love music. I get it from my dad. He's a big music buff used to have the reel to reel or record player going all the time, mostly with Motown. I love how, in an instant, a song can hit you in the gut and take you somewhere, even if it's to a place you don't want to be. Sade's new CD, Soldier of Love, and the Babyfather single has been on repeat in my iTunes lately. The lyrics made me cry a few days ago, reminding me of a sacrifice we made that still hurts every now and then.

I’m stunned
In a daze
He had the whole street set ablaze
It’s only love they say
Makes you feel this way

Our decision not to have another baby was several years in the making. We didn't make it lightly (who does?) and it's one I'm still struggling with. Sometimes, like on our trip to Orlando, I'm fine with it. Smug even. Watching other parents struggle to fold up their strollers to get them on the shuttles, the giant diaper bags, dodging strollers in the parks or getting hit in the back of the heels by one all gave me a sense of relief that those days are behind me. Three cheers for having a kid who can wipe his own butt, tie his shoes, carry his own jacket and stand in lines until almost midnight so we can ride Space Mountain two times in a row.

But other times, knowing we're not going to have another takes the wind right out of my sails. All the babies at Blissdom, the pregnant moms in my feed reader, the man at the park embracing his pregnant wife from behind, both with their hands on her stomach. Woosh!

She liked his eyes she wanted more
The baby gonna have your smile for sure
He saw a lovely girl
Smelling sweet and soapy like fresh air
She saw him looking acted like she didn’t care

I know Tyler would be an awesome big brother. At the end of his daycare days, he was one of the oldest kids there. The woman running the program would tell  me stories of Tyler trying to cheer up the younger kids when they were crying and offering to help with snack time. When Bossy and I were walking Chicago after BlogHer, I told her about the time last summer when I watched Tyler sit on the curb outside our house. He had his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands. He sat there for almost 10 minutes, scanning the street, hoping some other kid would walk by and they could play together. I cried telling Bossy that story. I told her I felt like I took something away from him and he had no say in it.

And Phil is such a great dad. I'm a typical Daddy's Little Girl. I have the type of relationship with my dad that often made my mom jealous. It was the blind adoration that did it. I feel the same way sometimes when Tyler will say, "I miss Dad" when I pick him up from school or the way he runs to greet Phil at the door when I can barely get a hello sometimes. I totally get where she was coming from. Even though there's no guarantee we'd have a girl, the thought of Phil and little girl together makes me all warm and gooshy on the inside. I know he'd love to have his own Daddy's Little Girl too.

Even to the angels it may sound like a lie
For you child
He was the troops and extra backup standing by
For you child
For you he’s the best he can be
For you child
For you he’s the best he can be
Oh child don’t you know
Your daddy love come with a lifetime guarantee

All of this has me so conflicted. Add the grief I get from my mom now and then and it's even harder. I'm not sure how much longer it will take for me to be at peace with the decision, or if I ever will. But, I can always listen to music. It really does soothe the soul.

What music is moving you lately?

The giveaway: I have another copy of Soldier of Love for you. I'm so glad Sade is back on the music scene. This is a great CD.

I'm hosting the giveaway on Twitter. DO NOT leave a comment here! Tweet this message or create your own but it has to have the hashtag for me to track.

RT to win a copy of Sade's CD Soldier of Love from @ADramaticMommy. #SadeCD

Winner chosen at random from all Tweets. You don't have to follow me, but I need to see the hashtag. Giveaway ends on Friday, March 5th at noon Pacific time. I'll announce the winner here and on Twitter. Good luck!

Thanks to Big Honcho Media for the review and giveaway copies. The affiliate link is to Amazon.

X's and Y's

Friday, May 29, 2009

I haven't talked here about having another baby too often, but it's been a topic of conversation for a few years. Whenever Phil and I have talk about it, the discussion disintegrated into a mini argument. We'd go around in circles not really getting anywhere. The baby talk has brought up a lot of issues. Some are things that have always been speed bumps in our marriage that flare up every few years but there have also been a few new things that have developed since I've started getting serious about the blog.

It's been frustrating for both us of not being on the same page.
In the end I think we both raised the white flag and agreed to permanently disagree. Phil got a vasectomy three weeks ago. I called Deb the morning of the surgery and tried not to cry. Since then I've had good days and bad. I mentally go over the pros and cons and Phil and I still talk about the "what if's" and the "maybe's."

I don't know if this was the right decision for us and I may never know. I know we needed to get out of the limbo we've been in. This has been hanging over our heads since we bought our house (probably before). It's hard to be present in and love the life you do have when you're constantly wondering about the life you could have.

Smooth-ie Operator

Friday, May 30, 2008

If you've been here before, you know I hate my body. And you know one of the items on my To Do If I'm Going to Have Another Baby list is lose weight. At least 10 pounds. If you haven't been here before, Welcome! And you can catch up here and here.

If I had the money I'd go to LA Weightloss or maybe Weight Watchers. But I don't so I'm still fat and have no one to blame but me.

Well, last week, I finally decided to take action with my weight instead of whining and then stuffing my face. Since last Monday, I've been making smoothies in the morning as my brunch, then really cracking down on snacking (hey, that rhymes!) during the day.

I'm trying to copy the new Breakfast Meals at Jamba Juice. Theirs are super thick and need to be eaten with a spoon. So far I haven't been able to match their consistency but mine are still tasty.

My hope was that the smoothie would keep me full all day and I would only need something small to keep me until an early dinner. I wasn't smart enough to weigh or measure myself before starting (duh!) but it's probably a good thing because Memorial Day weekend was a complete bust. Hubby made ribs and potatoes with bacon and cheese... SO good!

Anyway, this past Sunday, I had hubby break out the measuring tape and I
stepped on the scale for the first time in ages:
Weight: 147

Waist: 30"

Hips: 37"

Ugh! I can say this isn't the heaviest I've ever been but that doesn't make me feel any better. I went to Jamba yesterday and got one of their 16 ounce meals instead of making my own since I happened to be in the area.
I asked about the consistency problem and their advice was to pulse, not blend so I tried it today.

In my smoothies are bananas, strawberries*, peanut butter, soy milk, yogurt (but not today because DS ate the last container yesterday), flax seed oil (because I don't eat seafood), my daily multi vitamin and granola.

I have a blender, but use my Magic Bullet because it's faster and the cleanup is easier, but might switch to the blender for a true pulse setting.

I started out great, thinking I had all the liquid to solids ratios correct. It was looking thick and spoon worthy until I added some fresh strawberries that weren't going to make it through the weekend.

Then I figured "what the heck" and threw in another banana and some blueberries that were starting to look like rabbit poop (I won't eat blueberries unless they are blended).

I use the biggest plastic mug we have, which when filled to the brim holds just shy of 24 ounces. I've done better this week, especially with the snacking, but still have a ways to go.

I'll weigh in on Sunday to see if there has been any change. If not, I'll have to come up with Plan B because dammit I'm hungry!

Anyone else on a weight loss journey? What's worked for you? Or better, what hasn't?

*Note: I cut up strawberries and bananas that are starting to turn and freeze them so they don't go to waste. If I don't have any left I'll use fresh fruit and the "backup" bag of mixed frozen tropical fruit from Costco. I also don't measure anything, sorry! No kickbacks from any of the companies shown, though if the folks at Jamba are lurking I'm more than happy to take the 21 Day Breakfast Challenge! ;^)

Finally- The Baby Post

Thursday, May 8, 2008

I'm still not really ready to talk about my baby issues, but a friend brought it up today so it seems timely. We had lunch at Pizza Port in Solana Beach* (pic from the web).

We haven't seen each other in awhile so we had much catching up to do. She asked if I was able to convince DH to have another baby. So, I told her the latest update which is this:

DH is indifferent as to whether we have another child. "If we do, fine. If not fine." Huh? I'm not talking about adopting a puppy from the shelter!

We had a conversation recently about our mortgage. I said something to the effect of "we had to choose between a house and another baby and it was the right time for us to buy."

DH: "We can talk about having another baby."

Me: "No, we can't because talking about it makes me think there's a chance it will happen and I know it can't."

DH: "If you want to have another baby then let's figure out a way (so far, so good). I don't want you to be all angry and resentful 10 years from now." (Not so good)

Me: "I'm going to be angry and resentful but it's my issue. Besides, having another baby just so I'm not upset is not a good reason to add to our family."

DH: "It most definitely is a good reason."

And I kind of dropped it. Seriously, what kind of reasoning is that? So I won't be angry?

If I have another baby, there will be no going back to work until she/he is at least two. Which means DH is the breadwinner and then he gets to resent me for the extra pressure it puts on him. It's like we're at the OK Corral, fingers twitching waiting for the other to back down. And that stinks.

When we decided to try for DS, hubby surprised me when I broke out the condoms because we had talked about trying but I didn't think he was seriously ready. He looked so disappointed that I might have changed my mind and it was really touching and sweet.

That moment, when I tossed the Trojan over my shoulder and we made love in front of the fire in a cabin in Hawaii, was the most special, romantic moment of my life because of the idea that we could possibly be creating a whole new person
right now. It was mind blowing.

But I'm now on the clock. He gave me six months. If I'm not pregnant within six months then discussions are over, the deal is off the table. No romantic meeting of the minds this time.

It seems I'm damned if I do, damned if I don't. Either I "force" him into having another baby he seems not to want or I take one for the team and wonder how long it will take me to get over (if at all) deciding not to.

The real kicker is that me losing my job makes this the perfect and worst time to do it. With DS, I was commuting an hour each way starting in my 7th month. I was on bedrest for all of month nine. Not having a job would make this pregnancy a full 180 degrees different. Maybe I'd like it this time. Maybe I wouldn't be so ass draggin' fall asleep in my car on my lunch break tired.

On the other hand, the child will need clothes (unless it's a boy, I have tons of clothes). We'd need a new crib, a stroller a place to move the computer and all the junk in the closet so baby would have a real nursery. And with one income, mortgage, HOA dues, car loan, student loan, credit card payment, dental work, food, utilities and gas + baby = no can do.

There are other issues too: the fibroids and my weight.

First, the flab. I'm not fat. I know this in my head, but don't feel it in my heart. I'm 5'5" and hang on, be right back..... 147. Pretty normal I guess. But I hate my body. I don't like what I see in the mirror. I gross me out. Thus the efforts to exercise more. I told myself I can't think about getting pregnant until I lose 10-15 pounds.

Then the fibroids. I didn't know I had them until my first check up. The doctor was doing the pelvic exam and said, "hmm... what's this?" I kid you not. My overactive imagination goes into hyperdrive and I'm picturing all sorts of scary things and I wanted to cry.

He asks if anyone has mentioned that I might have fibroids and I'm floored because how is it that I can be almost 30 and had the same doctors for several years at a time and this, when I'm pregnant, is the first I'm hearing of it?

Long story short, I have two in there (maybe three). One is lemon size the other golf ball. My doctor painted a gloom and doom picture of my carrying to term (I will not have another male OBGyn) and said he wouldn't feel out of the woods until I hit 22 weeks. Then 26. Then 30.

I was stressed for much of the pregnancy and DH got his command to send him home early in case we miscarried (He was activated after 9/11, sent to Hawaii to fill posts vacated by those sent to Iraq. He was supposed to be gone for a year but came home when I was almost 6 months).

The fibroids weren't too much of a factor in the pregnancy, but I have no idea what's going on down there now. DH wants me to have them removed. I say "stay out of my uterus."

So, to recap: figure out how to afford a new baby, lose 10-15 pounds and make sure the tumors I have haven't grown or multiplied. In six months. I think I know how this story ends. And it sucks.

*I'm originally from Chicago so pizza is a serious issue for me. I haven't had a truly good piece of pizza since I moved here when I was 9. Until this place. I won't order from a chain restaurant ever again. Period. (Birthday parties for kids don't count. I refuse to see these slices go half eaten)

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