Getting So Big

I can't believe Baby Bean will already be 6 months old next week. The little girl is getting so big and growing in leaps and bounds. Before my trip home a couple of weeks ago, I realized she would very soon be out of her infant carrier and would need a full size car seat. I also noticed that it was getting harder to squeeze her chubby little thighs through the leg holes of her Bu.mbo, so it was time for a high chair. This all came a couple weeks after going on a walk and seeing that Baby Bean was no longer content to lay back in her infant carrier in the stroller for our walks. She wanted to be sitting up and looking around at the world, not up at it.

While I am a little sad my baby is growing up so quickly, I am also very happy to watch her do so. Each day she seems to learn something new or to become interested in an object in a new way. I love watching her hit her milestones, and I love being proud of her.

Here are just a few pictures of my darling baby girl, showing off in all of her new Big Girl Gear.

Time for the Big Girl Stroller. No more of that infant car seat crap for me!

Jumping like a crazy lady in her jumparoo. She LOVES this thing.

Sitting up all on her own on mom's bed.

"When can dad put this in the car? Its really roomy."

We opted for a booster seat rather than a high chair to save on space now and in storage.

The only thing she doesn't like is that she can't get the toys in her mouth.

In other news, I got my IUD today. It was kind of emotional for me, as I feel like it was more of a necessary evil being forced upon me. I realize it is all my decision, but considering our situation, it was the best solution to our problem right now. My doctor is an absolute doll and I love her to pieces. She was very sweet the whole time and told me I could absolutely have it removed in 6 months. I asked about the potential of the IUD scooting up and implanting in the scar tissue from the rupture (which she could feel during my exam), and she said she thought we would be okay, but we're going to do an ultrasound at my follow-up in two weeks just to be safe. Then we'll do another ultrasound in the fall to check the progress of the scar, and again in 6 months before we remove the IUD to make sure the light is still green. I told her I had read my surgery notes and asked if she thought we would have a problem getting pregnant again when we are ready, knowing how extensive the surgery was, and she said not at all.

As far as the procedure went, it wasn't as bas as an IUI, but I still wouldn't sign up for it again if I didn't have to. I definitely didn't feel up to going back to work afterward due to the cramping and nausea, so I went home and took a two-hour nap with Baby Bean snuggled in my arms.

In some ways the IUD is a relief. I am now in a place where I can't worry about anything conception-related. No OPKs, no pregnancy scares, no pregnancy tests. For once my brain can let it all go. It doesn't have to worry about getting pregnant, not getting pregnant, or keeping a baby inside and growing for 9 months. I get a full-on break. I intend to completely enjoy my baby for the next 6 months, and think about nothing else but her and Hubs.

Two More

I love that I have been blogging for so long I can actually go back to pivotal moments in time and remember events as they actually happened, and not just how my brain has played telephone with them over the months and years. I further love that those moments cross with my current life and help put moments of anxiety at ease.

Back in January 2008 I posted about a friend of my dad's who has psychic abilities. I don't know if you believe in such things, but I do. In this particular post, I told about how my dad and I were talking on the phone one day after my IUI and I told him that I knew in my heart it had not worked, even though it was too early to tell for sure, but that I was okay. My dad told me that he had recently talked to his good friend and had asked what R saw for Hubs and me. R told my dad that our road to parenthood would be long and hard, that we would struggle, but that eventually we would have at least one little girl. As soon as my dad uttered those words, tears streamed down my face. I was speechless. I remember the moment very clearly. I was driving in my car, on my way back to work from my lunch break. It was a sunny day in August. I even know the exact intersection I was crossing when he told me.

In that moment, I knew that I could not give up. I told my dad that I hoped we were at the end of the rough road, and that R was right. Armed with that information, I was going to continue with the surgery and do what it took to get that baby girl. R was the third person with these abilities to tell me he saw us with at least one little girl. He was right. They were all right.

As you can imagine, when I went home last week, I asked my dad to please talk to R again and ask if he saw anymore. He said he would if he remembered. I begged him to please remember. When he asked why it was so important, my reply was simple, he saw Baby Bean long before she was even conceived.

I need to know before I get my IUD that once it comes out, we will get to do this at least one more time. I just need to put my mind at ease, to know that I can fully enjoy the next 6 or so months without worrying about the potential problems brewing (i.e., regrowth of endo).

My dad sent me a text message on Friday afternoon while I was at work, it started out by saying he and my sister went to see R, and then said:

I asked what he saw for you and he said two more.

I cried. All I could do was cry for the next few minutes. I felt such relief and such joy. It felt as though a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. It was the green light I needed for the next 6+ months because truth be told, I never did get that positive OPK. I thought I would get it the day I posted about it because I went from zero hint of a line to a hint of a line. I tested for the next three days and never got more than a hint. Then I ran out of tests and couldn't sneak a new box past Hubs who was threatening to toss them all in the trash as it was. I quit testing on CD22.

I don't for one second believe that means we won't potentially have to walk the hard path again when we're ready, but at least it gives me the strength to bear the burden and gives me the stamina to keep going if the going gets rough.

Two more....

The First Time I Took A Break

Its time again for an infertility blog post from my previous blog. The one below details the first time I decided I had had enough.

Monday, June 25, 2007
Taking a Break
Current mood: relaxed Category: Life

This past week I have had a chance to realize that my life is so much happier when I'm not undergoing infertility treatments. Not only emotionally, but physically as well. This whole process has really been hard on my body, but even more on my hormones and emotions. Some days I go way over the edge being hormonal or even down right depressed. I've even gotten to the point where I don't see life worth living.

That last one really disturbs my husband. He told me I need to change my way of thinking and look at everything I DO have, as opposed to what I don't have. That I need to be happy about the things I do have.

This whole process has been so much worse than I ever anticipated. After having a talk this weekend, my husband and I decided that I need to take a break and get my emotions in check before we continue. Even that wasn't an easy decision.

My doctor thinks she has figured out what we need to do for the next round of treatments, and she is so optimistic about it. But at the same time this whole process is just brining me down. Then I'm afraid if we stop we will never have children. Then I realize even if we don't stop, we might still never have children. And not stopping could cost me so much more than I am willing to lose. But then I don't want to be 50 and regretting that I stopped because maybe I could have had children, but its too late at 50.

My husband tells me I need to make the best decision I can and keep telling myself I did the best I could with what I had. At this point, I would rather be happy. And in order for me to be happy, I need to take a break from this process. I need to not think about any of it.

So to my sweetie, thank you so very much for all of your patience and love. I am sincerely sorry for everything these past couple months. I am just so glad I have you by my side to help keep me sane. I promise that during our sabbaticle I will look at only the positive and good things in my life, and be more than happy about them. I love you more than the air I breathe. You mean more to me than everything in this world or the next. Thank you for being my rock.

Baby Bean In Flight

Baby Bean has successfully made her first flight. Thursday afternoon we boarded a plane to go home and visit my parents. All of my siblings were also there, and for less than 12 short hours, my parents had all of their kids and grandchildren under one roof. My little brother flew out to play military before the butt crack of dawn Friday morning. I was so glad I got to spend some time with him before he had to go.

The flight out of here wasn't as bad as I feared it would be. Baby Bean handled it like a champ. She was a bit fussy at takeoff until I gave her a bottle, a bit fussy afterward, and then fell asleep for the rest of the flight. It was awesome. The rest of the day, however was not so awesome. The poor child was overtired within an hour after getting to my parent's house, but she refused to sleep. It took me forever to get her to settle down enough to stop screaming and take a bit of a nap.

That night I left her in the care of my parents while I went to see the new Ha.rry Po.tter movie with my siblings. (It was awesome, can't wait to see it again with Hubs!) We went to the 10:00 showing and didn't get back until after 1:30 a.m. I didn't get to sleep until 3:00 Texas time, and then only got a few hours of intermittent sleep throughout the night. The rest of the weekend wasn't much better. By the time I got home on Sunday, I was overtired.

The next couple of days got better for Baby Bean as she got used to being at her grandparent's house as well as all of the new faces. By the time we went home on Sunday she was all smiles to everyone at the house. She was toted around a lot over the weekend, mostly by me, but every now and then someone else would be willing to take her for a bit so I could take a break. Her grandma loved holding her the most. She was showered in affection by her aunts, uncles, and cousins most of the weekend.

Friday afternoon one of my best friends came up to meet Baby Bean and go to lunch with us. I felt so bad because the Bean was tired by the time S got there, even though it wasn't her nap time. S got to say hello, hold her for a few minutes, and then I had to put Bean down for a nap under the watchful eye of her aunts while S and I went to lunch with her 2-year-old son. We had such a good time chatting face-to-face after months of only talking online. S, you look fantastic! It was so good to see you.

Sunday afternoon we headed back to the airport and were preparing to board the flight when an announcement came over the PA saying it had been delayed two hours. I was so upset. I had chosen that flight because takeoff coincided with Baby Bean's feeding and then got back home in time for her last feeding of the day and then bed time. I ended up having to feed her an hour late, and then giving her her first taste of water upon take off. That didn't go over so well. She ended up screaming for the first 20 minutes of the flight before she fell asleep. An hour and a half before landing, someone woke her up by slamming an overhead bin, and she spent the next 45 minutes screaming bloody murder. She also decided it was time for a poopy diaper, which didn't help matters at all. I got her calmed down about 5 minutes before her Landing Bottle, and then thank sweet merciful heaven, we landed and it was all done. Hubs met us at the baggage claim, happy to see his little girl, and took us home.

All-in-all, I think we both handled the trip very well, although I think she missed her daddy. I am glad that it is behind me though and that I can be done stressing out about it. I am quite bumped and bruised from the adventure, but it was worth it to take her home to meet the last of my side of the family and get some great pictures as well as videos. It was a very memorable trip.

Baby Bean sitting up all on her own in grandma's front room.

How Did I Miss THAT?

I got my charts from my previous doctor last night and immediately sought out my surgery results at the first possible chance after getting home. I was shocked to find two diagnosis that I don't remember discussing with my doctor in any of my post-op appointments. Under surgery diagnosis are the following:

• PCOS
• Endometriosis
• Uterine Septum
• Dialated Appendix

I don't remember him telling me I had PCOS. I remember him telling me my ovaries were slightly enlarged, but not getting the diagnosis of PCOS. WTF?! I am pretty sure I would have remembered that. Hubs says he remembers the doctor saying something about it the morning after my surgery when the doctor came to tell me what he had found, but I don't. I don't recall talking about it in any of my follow-up appointments either. My head was absolutely spinning.

The surgery notes are extensive and over three pages long. I don't recall discussing parts of it with my doctor, although I am sure we did. I hate that my memory of it all is so fuzzy, but I completely understand why. I was going through a lot at the time.

According to the notes from my doctor the endo was extensive. It sounds like it was all over the dang place. I was lead to believe it was only moderate. I can't believe how many places and where the notes say he found it and how much he removed. It is amazing the surgery worked at all. In reviewing the charts, I just don't see how a simple IUD is going to prevent me from landing back in the infertile chair in 6 months. I don't see how I will be able to get off without another lap.

After looking through those notes I realize Baby Bean is a bigger miracle than I thought before. She has always been a miracle to me. Some days it still feels sureal that I was pregnant with her and that she is here. I look at her with amazement and awe. I am so blessed.

I am freaking myself out right now. There is just so much going on. I am under such a huge amount of stress I just don't know how I can take it. I am so torn. I wanted those charts, but now I wonder if I should have left things alone. I already have too much on my plate as it is. But the bottom line is, I simply wasn't expecting what I found. I had hoped that I remembered things being worse than they were. I also asked for them a couple of weeks ago when my stress levels weren't so high and my feet were planted firmly on the ground.

Have I mentioned lately how wonderful dogs are? I'm sitting here stressing, on the verge of tears, and my little Sadie Dog came over to offer love and support. Those gentle brown eyes seem to say, "Its okay mom. I love you." as she lays her head on my lap for a few affectionate pats that require me to let go of some of this stress to return the love she so fully deserves.

I am okay.

Imma Loon

Crazy, neurotic me got what I wanted and needed today. My positive OPK. Its a day late, but I knew after testing last night that today would be the day because I got the faintest hint of pink. Yeah, I was pretty stoked. I can now go into the next six months feeling okay about things. I got the confirmation I needed to put my mind at ease. Thank God.

Last time I was at my doctor's office I requested a copy of my records from my previous OB. The ones that chronicled our journey from the first day I set foot in the infertility clinic to the month before I moved to Texas. I got the call today that they are ready to be picked up. $44. It will be worth it.

I want to know what the first doctor had to say for her actions. Why she left us on chlomid for so long, and especially after the doctor she worked under told me that he had asked her if she had any of her patients on it for more than 3 months and she promised him she did not. We had been on it for 6 by that time, and she was going to leave me on it for 6 more. No joke. That was why I changed doctors. The look on his face when I told him I had been on it for 6 told me all I needed to know. She had no clue what she was doing. He was mad and so was I. I'm pretty sure she got a talking to the following Monday. I'm sure he also told her I was no longer her patient. If you don't already know, being on chlomid for more than 3 months starts to DECREASE your chances of getting pg. You have a lifetime maxiumum of 3 months for that stuff.

That explains why she was always so apologetic when my cycles were completely abnormal. That explains why SHE was almost in tears the month her treatments gave me 24 follies. TWENTY FOUR! Yes, I was hurting that cycle and did for the next two months.

I also want my surgery notes. The doctor who performed the surgery (which was the one I switched to) might have given them to me at my follow-up appointment, but I don't remember. I'm pretty sure all he gave me was pictures from my lap. I want to know exactly what he found and where. I want to know exactly how many holes were drilled in each ovary. I want to know about the septum that was removed. I still trust him and his treatments. I just don't remember all of the details, and I want to. I just want to know.

I'm not stressing about any of this. I just want to get a better picture of what I am up against. My current doctor told me she couldn't tell how fast the endo would come back, but that it would. I want the last doctor's notes to see if he put what he thought in them. I don't remember how extensive he said it was, outside of telling me it was moderate. I want to know how much time I have.

I am really interested to see my charts. I'm willing the last hour and a half of work away so I can skip out and go get them. This ought to be interesting....

Perspective

After my last post, and after I've had some time to think about things and gain some perspective on life, I have come to the realization that I have it pretty dang good.

If the worst of my problems is not getting a positive OPK in a month in which we're not even trying, a scuffed up car bumper, and the anxiety of going on a plane ride with a 5-month-old all by myself**, then I've got a really good life.

Yeah I'm broker than broke. Yes I am nervously awaiting my first air conditioning bill of the summer. But at least I make enough money to pay the behemoth AC bill and keep my house comfortable for my little one. My little family doesn't have to go without very much, and that includes the dogs. They still get their dental chews, flea meds, and annual vaccination's. So what if I can't afford to take Sades to dog school tomorrow like I planned. I can do it later when things aren't so tight. Right now she has a dog dish full of food, a bed to call all her own, and a family who loves her.

At least I had the money to buy the plane ticket so I could go home and be with my family. So what if Baby Bean gets fussy? So what if she is disruptive on the flight? Getting the whole family together like this weekend is so rare. We all live in different states, so this is a big deal. On top of which, some of my family hasn't even met the baby yet. I can handle a couple hours of stress getting through security on my own with my little one. And anyone who wants to give me grief on the plane if she gets fussy can just stick it. I'm going home to be with the people I love most.

I am ashamed that I have sat here and boo-hooed to all of you about my supposed problems. I have read blogs and talked to people who have it a hell of a lot worse than me. I have gained a lot of perspective in the last 14 hours. I have a great life. I am very blessed. Its time to own that.

**I have failed to mention previously that I am taking Baby Bean on her first ever plane ride outside of the package. Mostly because the trip is not as social as I made it sound. It is not under pleasant circumstances. It is for a reason that I have a hard time talking about to anyone. There are only a few people in my non-family life who know why I'm going. Hubs is also not accompanying me on this trip, which really stresses me out. I won't have my comfort and my help with the baby. I've never flown with an infant before, so I am braced for the ride of my life. The bottom line is that something pleasant will come out of it, and that is the remainder of my siblings and nieces will get to meet the baby, and I will get to spend a few precious days with all of my family.

Here We Go Again

I'm pretty sure I've already been here once before. Yep, I have. It says so here. That post pretty much starts out with the exact same feelings I'm going through right now. Last time it was after my surgery, this time its after my baby. Here I am, on CD 18 and have yet to see a positive OPK. I know I usually ovulate on CD 19, but I thought that there would be at least a hint of a line indicating a pending positive tomorrow. Nothing. Not even a smidgen of pink in the positive area.

I am really freaking out because I am 18 days away from getting my IUD. I wanted to prove to myself that I wouldn't have to go through all of this stressing about ovulation crap before testing would be completely unnecessary for the next 6 months. I need that positive test to put my mind at ease before I embark on momentary, forced infertility. If I don't get it, all I am going to do is freak out for the next 6 months, wondering if I waited too long to do the IUD, wondering if I should have stayed on the ring, wondering if I am going to have to go through all of this crap again in 6 month's time, wondering if the endo has come back full force.

Maybe I started testing too late. I had some pretty bad pains on CD 15 that led me to believe I was ovulating then and there. They went away after that day. Perhaps having my baby kicked things back into gear. They do for lots of people who went through this same thing. But if I did ovulate that day, I won't know because I don't get a second chance to start testing earlier next month.

Yes, I am an obsessive worrier. I can't help it. It's in my genes. I was born with it, passed down from generation to generation. I need to learn how to let it go, I know. I am trying so hard. I keep telling myself that if all I ever get is Baby Bean, then it is okay. Its better than okay. I am better off than I was 18 months ago. I obtained the unobtainable. At least I have her. I am so blessed. So why do I torture myself? What is this need to obsess when there is nothing I can or should do about any of it until at least next year. Why can't I just let it go and leave it alone? Because I know the pain all too well.

The sad realization that I'm coming to is that no one can help me fight this battle. I have to overcome it myself. I just don't know how to fight this dragon. Every time I think I've won, she gets back up, fully refreshed and ready to fight as thought I'd never hurt her.

Its time to go appreciate what I have.

Baby Milestones

All right, enough freaky/depressed posts for a while. Its time for something fun.

This week Baby Bean learned how to roll over from her tummy to her back! She can now officially roll a complete 360. This little surprise was discovered Wednesday when Hubs put her down on her belly and ran to a different room to grab something. When he came back the little squirt had rolled from one side of the room to the other and stopped next to the dog bed. We both laughed. That night I was playing on the floor with her and she actually rolled over right in front of my eyes. I praised her so much I am sure she thought I was ridiculous. It is only a matter of time before the little darling will be crawling.

Another thing she is doing is learning to sit up on her own for long periods of time. She still topples to one side or the other after a few minutes, but it won't be long before she can pull herself into a seated position on her own and remain there. She also loves to stand, and she does this for a few minutes at a time as well. Tonight I stood her on the floor and helped her walk to her daddy.

We started her on solids about a week and a half ago, but it didn't go very well because we tried to introduce them at her bedtime feeding. All it did was make her angry, and she would refuse to eat after about three bites. So this week we tried feeding them to her during lunch time. Success! She makes the funniest faces with each spoonful I give her. Hubs and I laugh so hard. She opens her mouth and accepts every bite, but then she looks at me like I am the worst person in the world for putting something so foul in her mouth. I've tasted the rice cereal, and I don't think it tastes any worse than formula, but apparently she does. Perhaps it is a texture thing.

Our favorite thing that she has recently learned how to do well is giggle. The best part about this was my parents were on the phone with me one night when Hubs had her giggling up a storm. We were all laughing so hard. It is so adorable. I would do anything to make her giggle. It just couldn't be any cuter.

She is reaching so many milestones in the past few weeks. Hubs and I are so in love with our baby girl. I tell her every day that she was worth everything I had to go through to get her, and I would do it all again in a heartbeat.

Friday: It was so hard to go to work this morning. I went into her room to lay out her clothes for the day and she was awake and playing in her crib. She saw me, so I went over and stroked her back and head and told her I loved her. I got the biggest smiles. It took all I had to leave her and come to work.

And the Fun Continues...

Apparently it just isn't my week. Maybe it won't be my month. But something sure as hell hates me lately.

I came home from work at lunch today like I always do to feed the baby and spend some time with her. I stopped off on my way to get lunch for Hubs and I and then took what turned out to be the long way home. By the time I got home, I had 15 minutes to feed the baby and then head back to work. By then my fries had gotten to the cold, disgusting point, so I tossed them in the garbage, kissed Hubs and the baby, and headed back to work.

I was happily driving along when I came to an intersection. Straight across from me another driver was threatening to turn left. She moved into the intersection a bit and my heart skipped. If she pulled out there was no way I could stop in time.... She pulled out. Time slowed down as I slammed on the breaks, listened to my squealing tires, and waited for the moment of collusion. Not if, but when. *SLAM!*

I pulled through the intersection and immediately called Hubs, shaking, trying not to cry. He didn't answer, so I dialled 911. I got out of my car and went around front to assess the damage. I couldn't believe how minimal it was. My bumper wasn't dented at all, but pretty badly scuffed up. I walked back to the intersection, heart pounding, shaking like a leaf as the 911 operator picked up. When I got to the intersection I could not find the other driver at all.

"911, what's your emergency?"
"I think I've just been in a hit and run accident."

The operator instructed me to pull my car off the road into the parking lot adjacent to it and she would send the police. Just then the other driver came walking over the hill. She was a young, 18-year-old girl. I pulled into the parking lot next to her car and surveyed the damage to her back bumper. It fared as well as my front, just badly scuffed. After I got off the call we both asked each other about 100 times if the other was okay. I couldn't help it, I was so relieved we were both okay that I hugged the girl tightly to me and told her everything was okay and that it would be okay.

The cops showed up and helped us exchange information. They told me that because Texas is a no fault state that if we reported the accident it would go on BOTH of our reports, even though the accident was 100% not my fault. (Let's pretend we're surprised here. Nope, can't do it.) Long story short, we opted not to file the report and I told her I would not file with her insurance so her rates wouldn't go up. She offered to pay 100% of the damages, and I told her that was fine. I will probably call her tomorrow just to make sure she is okay. I felt so bad for her because she is so young.

On top of getting my heart going, I got a nice little sun burn from standing outside in the 100 degree heat while we were exchanging info and talking to the police. By the time I got back to work my lunch was nasty and I smelled of dirty, burning flesh.

To round out the evening Baby Bean was a pill and wanted nothing to do with me tonight. In retrospect that could be because I smelled bad. All I wanted to was play with my bean, make her smile and giggle, and all she wanted to do was be fussy. It broke my heart.

When I put her to bed, Hubs had left the drawer under her crib partially pulled out. When I went to put the side of her crib down I thought it wouldn't go down because there were a couple of shoe boxes there and ended up kicking the drawer with my foot. When Hubs asked what happened and I told him, he opted not to apologize for not pushing the drawer back in, but rather chastise me for kicking anything in the dark.

I am so ready for this week to be over. Hell, this month. I don't know how much more my nerves and heart can take.

It's All Just a Nightmare... Right?

Update: The cat has been downgraded from a mountain lion to a bob cat. Still scary as hell! See picture at bottom.

After this evening, I think I have asked Hubs about a million times if I am in a coma or having a really bad dream because the way my day played out cannot seriously be real life.

10:00 a.m. - My eyes started going buggy about this time. I figured it was because it is time to go to the optometrist for a new prescription. I am pretty sure that looking back now it was the onset of the massive migraine I was about to sport in a few hour's time.

5:15 pm. - I got home sporting a massive migraine that was making me ill. Baby Bean was fussy because she had decided to delay her afternoon nap until shortly before I got home. I sent Hubs out for dinner shortly after feeding her, set the baby in her in bouncer and bounced her to sleep while I lay on the couch with my eyes shielded from the light with my hand.

6:20 p.m. - Hubs gets home with dinner. I ate. I felt better. So I was stupid and decided I would go on a walk around 7:45.

7:45 p.m. - Hello, my name is Stupid. I packed Baby Bean in her stroller, leashed Sadie, told Mags to come (she doesn't need a leash), and walked out the door... without Hubs... super stupid. Half way into the walk my head was pounding, feeling like it was going to implode, but Stupid kept walking.

Remember when I got my speeding ticket last month? Well, I'm still pretty shaken about that, since I still don't feel I did anything wrong. So whenever I see a cop, my heart pounds. I was about to cross the street when I saw a cop car coming my way. I thought, "Sh*t! They are going to see Mags isn't on a leash and give me a ticket." They drove past, we walked across the street into the median. The cop car turned around and headed back in my direction. "Sh*t! I'm getting a ticket!" They drove past. My head was pounding. I crossed the street the rest of the way and kept going.

Let me digress for a second here. Before heading on my walk, I wanted to stop and turn around at that street. I had a really bad feeling about walking all of the way to the town square. So what did I do? I kept walking to the town square. I was walking down the sidewalk toward the square when what do I see? Two cops walking toward me. "Sh*t! Sh*t! Sh*t!" Mags still isn't on a leash. They walk up to me, say hello, and keep on walking. I crouched down and put Mags on a leash (I was smart enough to bring the leash splitter). I kept walking and ANOTHER cop car pulls up. "Oh come on!"

Now for the freakiest freaky part. I was walking the dogs down around the town square along the green belt. I casually look over a bridge to the other side of a small creek and saw A FREAKING MOUNTAIN LION! I am NOT kidding. I looked once. No, I must be seeing things. I looked again. It was there! I have never in my life seen a mountain lion up that close except for at the zoo. My heart started pounding, and I told my dogs to walk faster. We rounded the circle, and I called Hubs to ask if I was in a coma. Was all of this seriously happening? I had to call him because I was on the verge of a full on panic attack and had to stop it before I couldn't function enough to put one foot in front of the other.

Hubs talked to me on the phone until he could come meet me on the trail, and then he brought me home, safe and sound, to deal with my migraine in peace.

Can I just say I am sick and tired of panic attacks? Tornadoes, cops, mountain lions. Enough already! Please give my poor heart a break!

Cat downgrade: This is actually what I saw. A bob cat. Nonethelss, I don't want my dogs tangling with this guy, especially around my baby. They are apparently known to still take down deer. My dogs are no match.

Happy Independance Day!

My doctor called me back Thursday night after she had had a chance to look over the ultrasound. She told me everything looks great, is healing the way she would expect, and we can continue with our plan of placing the IUD next month. :) I have to admit that I do have some trepidation and fear over doing any form of birth control. I am working on getting past that though and working on just focusing 100% on Baby Bean, Hubs, and our dogs. Day by day I am learning to quit stressing about the things I can't control and to enjoy the here and now. I am so blessed to have moved from the infertile statistic to the once an infertile statistic, even if only to have one baby.


Even more exciting is that I came to the realization that I started my pregnancy a few pounds heavier than I thought (that's not the exciting part) and discovered this weekend that I am not only back to my prepregnancy weight, but I am a pound lighter and all of my old clothes fit again! I still want to lose another 10, or what is known as my Infertile 10. I was so excited to find that I am back into my old pants that I packed up the last of my maternity clothes and my fat pants until I need them again. I still can't believe I am back in my favorite pair of jeans. :D

Today was Baby Bean's first 4th of July. After making a donut run this morning Hubs and I remembered that the town was hosting a children's parade. We decided to pack Baby Bean into her stroller and set off to see if we could find it. We have one of those convertible strollers that holds the infant car seat until the baby is big enough to ride in the big stroller without it. Well, today we tried Baby Bean in the big stroller sans car seat. The little doll is definitely big enough. Part of me was excited to push her around facing forward so she could get the new view on life, but part of me was so sad that she has moved up and another day of her babyhood is gone. She didn't seem to care about the new view versus the old view, so I think I will go back to pushing her in her car seat for a while still. I like being able to see her and talk to her when we go on our walks, and there will be plenty of time for her to face forward once she no longer fits in her car seat. We found the parade, but she didn't seem to care, on top of which it was pretty lame. They just had a fire truck and then a string full of parents and children walking down the street, so we stuck around for a minute and then went back home to get out of the heat.

Well, it is time for a certain bean to eat, so I am off for now. Ta ta!

Its Lookin' Good

I had my "Weirdness" ultrasound today to see if the funny stuff they found on my ultrasound last month had cleared up. If you missed that post, I went to the doctor because I was having some pretty intense pain on my right side that felt like a cyst. My doctor ordered an ultrasound just to make sure everything was okay. The scan showed no cyst, which meant the pain was c-section related, but it found a weirdness that my doctor could only attribute to something left over from Baby Bean's placenta, even though she didn't think that was what it was. After the scan, she told me I needed to wait until my next cycle to determine if it cleared out on its own, otherwise I was in for a scraping.

It was also at this appointment that I asked her if there was any other form of birth control I could be on other than the ring or a pill because I hate who I am when I am on those things. She told me I could do an IUD, but after the scan told me we needed to wait until we were sure the anomaly inutero was gone first.

My doctor wasn't around today, but the technician told me she would give me a call with my results later tonight. The tech had no idea why I was there or what she was looking for, so I asked her if she saw anything abnormal. She told me I had what looked like a fibroid as well as a cyst on the left ovary, but that everything else looked normal. I asked if the fibroid could be the scar tissue from the uterine rupture and she got a smile on her face that almost looked like she was relieved and said she was almost certain that is what she was seeing. PHEW!!! Like I need another reason to worry about my reproductive abilities.

So it looks like weirdness is gone, which means no scraping (thank heaven!), and I can brace myself for an IUD next month, as long as the cyst doesn't prevent