Monday, July 27, 2009

All Hail Captain Overreaction

Okay, in my defense, since when have I ever seen blood and everything has been okay?

So...actually still pregnant. I know, right? I'm batting 1 for 5 at the moment, and I know I certainly can't count on number 5. I have an appointment with Dr. Bow Tie Guy a week from today to see what might be able to be done to improve the odds of an actual baby resulting from this. According to the epic blood test that I had a while back, I'm slightly low in two proteins that are essential, but Dr. BTG didn't think they were causing my problems. So....I guess we'll see.

We're keeping very quiet at the mo (except, of course for posting it publicly on this blog) as sis-in-law is also pregnant at the mo. I know that she was worried about telling me the news (I would have been to if I'd been in her shoes) and don't want to make it any more awkward for her should everything go pear shaped again. I want her to feel like she can talk to me and share her happiness, even if it DOES suck for me, cause she's awesome and we're family.

Thanks to all of you who commented on the last post; I know you've all been following my story for a while, as I've been following yours. It means a lot to me that you're all cheering me on.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

If my body belonged to someone else, I would be plotting revenge.

I would be trying to figure out how to break into her house. How to deface her blog. How to hurt her even a fraction as much as she'd hurt me.

Two words.

Chemical pregnancy.

I despise my body.

Friday, July 17, 2009

More Than a Feeling

Just to show that I'm not all doom and gloom...

Mr. DD is, at present, participating in the annual Pepper Show which he's been involved with for a number of years. Every night for some time now, after we get home, he kisses the Prawn goodnight and tells her that "daddy is going to play guitar", so I thought it was probably time she got to SEE him do it. Last night was the final dress rehearsal, so Prawn and I went along.

A two year old has about as much ability to sit still as a giraffe has to be inconspicuous, so my hopes for staying were not high. However, I was to be astonished.

The Prawn was enthralled. Enraptured. Utterly attentive. Completely and totally thrilled. AND HAPPY TO STAY IN HER SEAT FOR 45 MINUTES WITHOUT THE ASSISTANCE OF SESAME STREET.

She jigged. She bounced. She clapped and waved her arms. She totally moshed out to Boston. She shouted "YAY! ANOTHER ONE!" after every number. I cannot even begin to tell you how thrilled I was that she enjoyed herself so very much. My kid already likes live music! And she's only two!

I must admit to being filled with heady thoughts of summer festivals in the future, my little headbanger dancing like a wild monkey. :)

Tuesday, July 14, 2009


There are some moments when you worry about your mouth hanging open for so long, there's a good possibility of drooling on your own shirt. Today was one of those days.

Many moons ago, I waxed lyrical about the mother of mine and Mr. DD's goddaughter, who is practically a baby herself at 23 (this is not to say that there are not perfectly mature 23 year olds out there, but when I was 23, I thought that running naked across a soccer field at 3 am made me REALLY COOL, so maybe that just puts the whole issue to rest right there.) and one of those people who honestly just reacts to stimulus rather than thinking deeply into anything. This is not to say that she is a bad person. She is a young person who has had a very, very easy ride and will continue to do so.

I took the Prawn over to play with said goddaughter who is a little over half a year older than she is. While they were in a bedroom wrecking havoc, The Barmaid and I chatted about not particularly challenging issues, but finally we did come round to "so, you guys thinking of having another one?"

"Well," I said, "I actually WAS pregnant earlier this year, but I miscarried in March. I went to the hospital for a surgical option."

"Oh my god!" she said, leaning in conspiritorially, "Surgery is so WEIRD! I've had two abortions since I've been with *insert name of current boyfriend*!"

The thing is, I would have expected to become enraged or emotional at this idea that somehow having a surgical solution to a miscarriage and oh, HAVING A FUCKING ABORTION were in any way similar, but somehow, it really just washed right over me. It was rather like hearing a two year old say the word "cocksucker" because they figured out how to use the remote and had been watching "Die Hard" for the last few hours. I knew that it honestly didn't occur to her that this might be in some way an innapropriate comparison to make.

"Oh." I said. "Did you skip a pill or something?"

"No. We just weren't using anything."


I need a drink.