This is exactly what it’s like in our house when David comes home from work.

I don’t even have any more to say really, just that yeah. This is what happens when homebodies get tipsy. Pour another glass or two and who knows what could happen? Might break out the┬ásponges and craft clay and get really crazy.

All future Christmas cards will be delivered in fake cake form. Trust me.

Moms 2 Moms

This is going to be long and sappy. You should probably close the page right now.

Since going on my leave I’ve been thinking about ways to fill my time, while also keeping in mind that I left work for a reason and shouldn’t sign up for too much. One of the things I never had time for while working was church commitments. I could sign up for Wednesday classes or bringing food on Sunday before service, but I had no way of guaranteeing I would be there any given week. I might make it the first two weeks, and then have a solid month where my boss scheduled me crazy hours and I just couldn’t manage. And that wasn’t fair to anyone there, so after a few valiant tries I sort of gave up on having much of a presence in the church outside of Sunday service and small group.

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Result of the doctor’s visit…

It was very uneventful, which was actually the biggest relief. I’m happy to once again be an uneventful patient. They did take some blood because I’ve been feeling faint, but anemia can take 3 months to recover from, and I did lose a lot of blood. Haven’t gotten a call back about that yet, hoping it’s good.

The doctor suggested 3 months minimum before getting pregnant again because of the anemia and just general letting my body get back to normal. She also said that it might be wise to wait longer to make sure we’re emotionally okay. I’m not sure I’ll ever be 100% okay and I hate to just tread water until I am, so I dunno. I do know we want more kids, and I do know we have a few things to sort out like our car and apartment change before that kind of decision can be made.

My follow-up appointment is tomorrow…

And I am freaking out.

For those not totally up to date with the conditions present in my first pregnancy, it fell into two camps. What was wrong with me and what was wrong with the baby. I had placental previa, which is when the placenta blocks the exit and prevents labor from happening. The baby had a chromosonal issue we can’t identify which resulted in some brain abnormalities, although he was otherwise healthy.

Now, neither of these conditions is hereditary or lifestyle based. They were flukes, completely unrelated to one another or me, and I was just lucky enough to pull both short straws at once. But emotions don’t have to make sense (and in my experience they rarely do) and I’m petrified of it happening again. Previa results when the egg implants too low, and my animal brain is telling me (screaming, actually) that the surgery I went through malformed my uterus and that it’s now the perfect magical shape to result in previa every single time.

I want to go to the doctor tomorrow and have her tell me everything is fine. I’m terrified to go tomorrow and have her tell me that I’m ruined forever and that my animal brain was right. I’m also terrified to go and find out that I’m still too anemic/deficient/weak and will have to be under close watch for even longer.