burnt toast life

wimpy white boy & the tiny warrior princess

It’s been 84 years…

We are going to conveniently ignore the fact that it’s been exactly 1,018 days since my last blog post.

And somehow that felt appropriate because the topic of my last entry was how stressed I felt trying to work full time PLUS parent three kids full time. That’s all been going on for the entire 33 months I’ve been absent — and it shows.

Now I’m on a brief work sabbatical also known as maternity leave. That doesn’t mean I have time to dig in and start blogging again — if anything, I’m way busier than I was in August 2018, the time of my last update — but with so much going on, I felt like I had to get down some thoughts and provide a centralized place for people requesting updates on the babies. I can’t keep track of who I’m telling what.

And obviously, I want to look back in 1,000 days and remind myself how miserable I was because life will be much better then. Right? Right.

Welcome to our renovation nightmare

Ok so quick, quick update on the last 3 years: We considered moving but decided to stay after losing out on our dream house (7 offers in 48 hours) and realizing the housing market is totally out of control. That led to embarking on an agonizing, drama-filled, six-figure renovation that included multiple shady contractors, skyrocketing costs of materials amid the pandemic, broken appliances, and lots of other bad news every day. Nightmare isn’t even the word. It’s a never-ending horror show.

Six months later and it’s still not finished. However, we’re finally starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I could go on for pages about this saga but at the moment I’d rather be talking about my other big news. The moral of this story? (Most) contractors suck, renovations are expensive, and if you want something done right you have to do it yourself.

Suffice it to say we are never, ever moving and it will all be beautiful when it’s done, thanks to the literal blood, sweat, and tears that we (and when I say we I mean Eric) put into this project. And even though we spent wayyyyyyyy too much money on it, technically we still have equity and aren’t forced to overpay for a crappy house like so many other buyers right now. Small blessings.

No embryo left behind

The reason I’ve been very unhelpful in the construction department, besides my complete lack of manual labor skills, is that I’ve been pregnant the entire time.

After going back and forth and agonizing over the last two embryos for years, I finally decided the time had come. I got the go-ahead from my OB to implant two embryos at once (“But will my uterus literally explode if I’ve had 3 c-sections already? No? Are you sure?”) even as my RE Dr. L tried her damndest to talk me out of it.

“They could split and you could get triplets. You could get QUADS,” she warned.

However, I’ve said all along that we abide by a “no embryo left behind” philosophy. I also reasoned that these were the worst quality embryos of the group. There was a decent chance that only one would stick. Or none would stick! It was a $5,000 gamble I was willing to take, especially since it nicely coincided with a generous work bonus.

And then both embryos stuck. And then we had twins.

The pregnancy was both eventful and non-eventful. There weren’t any major concerns until the third trimester other than cholestasis, which was an itchy nightmare, and extreme discomfort for my 5’1 frame carrying two growing humans. My back ached, my feet swelled, and apparently, I had a short temper with everyone (in my recollection, this part is exaggerated, but all my family members agree that ‘Amanda while pregnant with twins’ is super bitchy).

It’s gonna be May

Everything was uncomfortably yet smoothly sailing along fine as we passed the 30 week mark. But then I started having some concerning growth scans that showed Baby A, the girl, was experiencing IUGR (intrauterine growth restriction).

We already knew I’d be delivering early because of all my risk factors — twins, IVF, repeat c-section, cholestasis, advanced maternal age, etc., etc. But all along I had the goal in my head of making it to 37 weeks. The twins were due 6/24 — the day after Molly’s birthday, how full circle is that? — and if I got to 37 weeks, I would at least be in the correct month for their due date. Meanwhile, my OB said to prepare for delivery between 34 and 35 weeks even before the scans. She’s clearly psychic in that regard.

Finally, baby girl started having issues with cord flow and the perinatal doctors insisted the babies had to arrive no later than 36 weeks. They started using terms like “stillbirth” and scared the crap out of me. I called my OB to get her opinion on when to schedule the surgery. That’s when I found out she was leaving for a humanitarian trip to Africa in mid-May. My last day to schedule the surgery with her was Monday, May 17 – when I would be exactly 34+4 weeks. It felt like a sign from God that it was the right day.

And so it was. Surgery went great, recovery was a bit rough but manageable, and the babies were super cute. Lucas Russell was 5 lbs 6 oz, which happens to be Molly’s exact birth weight at 40+4. He clearly would have been my biggest baby if we had let him cook longer. Meredith Jane was 3 lbs 3 oz. But then they got whisked off to the NICU and they’ve been there ever since.

Today is the 12th day without my newborns.

Welcome to the NICU; no one wants to be here

It’s a surreal feeling that’s inspired me to compose so many NICU-related posts in my head ever since our journey began.

I want to write, “The 1 Question You Should Never Ask a NICU Parent” (Spoiler: It’s “When do you think they’re coming home?” I know this question is very well-intentioned and is one I would have been asking before I knew how it felt to hear it. But the constant update of, “we don’t know, we don’t know, we don’t know” is so emotionally draining.)

I’m also considering one titled “10 Surprising Benefits of the NICU.” Having highly trained professionals caring for my babies while I recovered my old, tired, 37-year-old body from major abdominal surgery was pretty nice. During my hospital stay, I could go visit and hold them whenever I wanted, but when I wanted to go to my room and shower, rest, and watch HGTV for an hour without interruption, that was also an option. The real guilt and hardship didn’t begin until I left the hospital empty-handed.

Our adorable wimpy white boy

When we found out Lucas would be over 5 lbs and Meredith would be 3 lbs if she was lucky, a few people mentioned there was a chance he could come home with me while she would definitely be stuck in the NICU. So imagine my surprise when I discovered that not only was Lucas not coming home, but he was actually faring worse than his teeny tiny sister. It’s all because of a phenomenon known as “wimpy white boy.”

So many people have said this phrase to me both in the hospital and at home. It refers to the fact that Caucasian males tend to fare worse in the NICU regardless of their size or gestational age. So even though Lucas looks like he’s fine, he’s actually doing terribly at handling life on the outside. He’s a wimpy white boy.

His main issue is bradycardia events (“bradys”) where his heart rate drops and he has to be roused by the nurses. He was having so many he had to be put on a CPAP machine for a couple of days. The doctors also put him on caffeine to help prevent them, and as long as he doesn’t have any bradys today he will be taken off caffeine by end of day.

But he still has to be brady-free for a 7-day stretch post-caffeine, or 5 days regardless. So if he has an event on Sunday, the clock resets and we have to hit that 5 day stretch. Little man has only managed to make it 2 days without having an event so far.

He’s also being lazy about eating, which is typical for a preemie (and a wimpy white boy). He had some reflux issues but those seem to be getting under control. I’ve been diligent on trying breastfeeding whenever I’m there for his care times, but he just kind of latches and stares at me, like “What do you want me to do with this thing?” Then he falls asleep.

However, he’s freaking adorable. All the nurses are in love with him. How could you not appreciate that handsome face?

Little lady is a fighter

And then there’s Meredith.

She has that NICU baby look with virtually no fat on her body and the tiniest little hiney I’ve ever seen in my life. It took some time for me to feel comfortable changing her diapers because I felt like I would break her legs by accident. She’s just soooo small and fragile looking. But looks can be deceiving. What Meredith lacks in size, she makes up for in determination.

Baby girl has never been on oxygen and never had a brady. The first time I put her to breast she latched on and went for 15 minutes solid (she hasn’t been able to replicate that since; I think she’s still recovering from the Herculean effort it must have taken).

The only reason she is still in the NICU is that there’s a 4 lb minimum to leave (that’s for car seats) and she’s still only 3 lbs 5 oz after losing weight post-delivery and then working like hell to gain it back.

She also needs to work on eating but has been doing decent with the bottle and breast. She’s also very, very cute even with that slight alien look.

Baby steps, literally

I have so many reasons to complain about being trapped in the NICU but just as many to be grateful. I love that it’s 10 minutes from my house. If these babies had been born prior to January 2020 I’d be commuting 30 minutes each way which would have made life so much harder. Plus, I’m in some twin mom groups where the moms mention their closest NICU is an hour or more away and they can only go every other day. I just can’t imagine.

The staff at St. Luke’s is wonderful; I love all the nurses. I love the new building with the private NICU rooms rather than just being in one giant area. If there’s anywhere to be stuck, it’s here.

But progress is slow and I’m impatient. It doesn’t help that my 3 big kids need me at home while my 2 small ones need me at the hospital. No matter where I am, I feel like I should be somewhere else and like I’m letting someone down. We won’t even discuss my husband who has been trapped in the basement working alone for weeks now while I try being everything to everyone. Even my lack of attention/help for him makes me feel endlessly guilty, guilty, guilty.

Nurse Proper

As much as I love all the NICU nurses, I inevitably have my favorites, especially the one who insists on posing the twins and doing newborn photo shoots every time I’m there.

For a while one of my least favorites was a nurse I nicknamed Nurse Proper because she had a very precise way about her. It’s hard to explain… she says “beneath” instead of “under” and just has an extremely formal, competent manner. Of course, this makes me feel like a total schlub in her presence and even though I’ve become adept at NICU care and protocol in the 2 weeks we’ve been there, I always seem to mess up when she’s around. I guess she brings it out in me.

After the fourth night shift in a row with her assigned to my babies, she changed my whole perception. It was 10PM and I was about to go home and finally get some sleep. As usual, the older kids had put themselves to bed (remember, Eric is still stuck in the basement, probably painting something) and I was wondering if they’d really brushed their teeth.

But then Nurse Proper pulled up a chair, looked me right in the eye, and said, “Hey. How are you? I mean, how are you?”

I gave the usual response of “Fine! Great! Surviving!!” And then she said, “I want you to know you don’t have to do this if it’s killing you; it’s OK to take a night off, or not come here twice one of these days. We aren’t going to judge you if that’s what you think. We know you have other kids and a life at home.”

Deep down I knew I was feeling this — the obligation to always show up twice, once for day shift and once for night shift. This is both for the twins and for optics because God forbid I become known as the mother who never visits her babies. I still haven’t gone a day without visiting twice but at least she acknowledged and knew how I was feeling more than anyone else. Maybe Nurse Proper isn’t so bad after all.

Hello, my name is Bessie

I was terrified of not producing enough milk for twins. Ha. Haha. HA! I cannot believe the amount I’ve been getting.

The nurses said the whole NICU fridge is nothing but my bottles and they’ve had to start freezing it. The twins started out on donor milk when they were first born but haven’t had to use it since their first three days of life. I am an absolute pumping machine and while it’s annoying, and feels bovine, at least this is one thing I know I’m doing for my babies that’s legitimately helping them grow and thrive.

I pump every 3 hours and typically get 8-9 ounces each time. That’s double what I used to get pumping at work for Molly and Liam when they were babies. I credit my diligence at sticking with the every 3 hour schedule (even in the middle of the night when the last thing I want to do is get out of bed) and my new Spectra breast pump, which makes my old Medela clunker look like a tool from the Stone Age. Plus I’m assuming my body knows it had twins and needs to produce twice as much to feed them.

I hope I can keep up supply once they come home. I could never be an exclusively pumping mom… it’s so much work without the reward I want, the bonding and the convenience of breastfeeding. These kids have got to get their latching skills down soon.

This too shall pass

I look back and laugh at how pissed I was when they wanted to keep Molly in the hospital two extra days after she was born. The horror! Obviously I overreacted at my extended stay. And even now, as stressful as being a NICU parent is, I am trying to maintain perspective.

The twins are premature but they are healthy. Plenty of parents wind up in the NICU because their babies have serious medical complications and must stay for months and months on end. My babies are just early and they need more time. Meanwhile, thanks to the state of the renovation, we need more time too. Their clothes are still in boxes, their bassinet is at my sister’s house, and their various accouterments are in the attic. In a couple weeks that should be a very different story.

The earliest they could possibly go home is 7 days from Lucas going off caffeine — one week from today. Incidentally, that’s about how long it should take Meredith to gain what she needs to gain. I’m thinking, realistically, they’ll be home in the early part of June and one day I can read this post and look back at what a small blip it was on our radar.

Hashtag blessed

Another thing I’m grateful for? Last night was the first time I even had to think about what was for dinner. So many friends and family members have been dropping off food and we’ve never eaten so well. I never had to worry about having a ride to the hospital even before I was cleared to drive; my mom and sister happily shuttled me back and forth no matter the hour and what else they had going on.

Others offered to take the big kids for playdates and distractions amid the chaos. We are surrounded by help and support constantly and for that, I cannot be more thankful.

My heart is torn in half right now. But every day is progress toward our goal: paint on the walls, babies in our home, and a relaxing summer.

Oh wait, just kidding, I’m going to have newborn twins. I don’t think “relaxing” will be part of my vocabulary for at least the next 20 years.

And that’s just how I like it.

It’s good to be back, friends. I can’t guarantee I’ll blog all the time (actually I can guarantee I WON’T blog all the time). But I can say I’ve missed this space a lot. Don’t be surprised for a random post here and there when all is calm on the home front. Thanks for still reading along one thousand days later.

currently

I promised myself I’d get around to posting something BEFORE the birth of the baby, which now is just three days away and who am I kidding, it’s not going to be some epic summer recap full of photos like I wanted it to be.

Just know that our summer was glorious.

It was truly everything I wanted it to be. Relaxed, fulfilling, joyful. Stressful yet satisfying. At this point I’m 90% positive you’re sick of hearing how much I love working from home but I don’t even care, I’m saying it one more time: IT IS SO GOOD. I had pool days on Tuesdays, I had afternoons free to do whatever with the kids, I had farm visits for my lunch break. I had 11AM snuggle time and exactly zero stressful commutes. It was trying at times (whining kids + deadlines = stress), but also worth it. Now that I’ve tasted this side of life I’m never going back.

I’d say my biggest complaint about the summer has been the physical demands of being 7 then 8 then freaking 9 months pregnant. Two days shy of 39 weeks and I’ve hit a wall. I’ve figured out that every day I’m able to complete one physically demanding task — anything from grocery shopping to carrying a box up to the attic to visiting a playground — and after that I’m useless. My to-do lists are laughable thanks to these limitations and now I’m totally out of time. Everyone has been making fun of the fact that I haven’t packed my hospital bag yet… well, I’m getting there. But that will be the only thing I do that day and so far it keeps getting bumped in favor of more exciting stuff.

But anyway. In an effort to keep this blog on track and actually produce some content, I’m going to try some writing prompts. Without further ado, here is my edition of “currently” for 8/21, aka Solar Eclipse Day, aka today.

Reading…
I’ve been reading A LOT in the last couple of weeks, mostly because that’s the only thing I can do that doesn’t cut into my “one thing per day” quota. Also, my neighbor is a teacher and home for the summer, plus she’s a book-a-phile like I am, so she runs to the library (since Lord knows I don’t have the energy for all that), picks up a big pile, and we swap back and forth. I read so many books this way I lost count, including one book in a matter of 24 hours when I was laid low on the couch recovering from the stomach bug. The kids watched movies while I tore through a novel. Probably the only thing good about the stomach bug is not having any guilt about “wasting” a perfectly good summer day literally not moving from one position except to flip a page.

If you want to know all the titles I’ve been reading lately, check out my Goodreads. But at this very moment in time I’m about 100 pages into Swimming Lessons, which is OK not great.

Watching…
It’s amazing how little TV I watch, especially since cutting cable over a year ago. I watch Game of Thrones and that’s really it. However, I do anticipate wanting to watch more stuff once I’m up at all hours breastfeeding because I don’t know if I’ll have the mental capacity for books like I do now. I’m actually dreading my hospital visit because my sister told me there are literally NO good channels; they don’t even have HGTV! It’s a little sad how disappointed I am about that.

BUT, I do have Netflix and Amazon Prime. So any suggestions you have for someone who is unapologetically ruthless and picky in regards to television, I would love to hear them.

Listening…
To silence. Can I get an Amen for kids who nap at the same time? It is one of my favorite things.

Drinking…
Water + flavor drops out of my new Atlin cup! It’s supposed to be a Yeti knockoff and so far I’m loving it. I can’t believe how long it keeps my drink cold… I’m talking insulated enough to keep ice cubes intact for 12+ hours. Plus, I got it on Amazon for $11, as opposed to like $40 or whatever for the almighty Yeti. #winning

Eating…
Nothing. Shockingly. I am already thinking about dinner, when I’m making some sort of very healthy concoction of crescent rolls and chicken that resembles chicken pot pie.

Wearing…
Last night’s pajamas. At 3 in the afternoon. Not ashamed.

Loving…
My job! And not just the work from home aspect, though that’s clearly the main appeal. The exciting news of the hour is that they asked me to go full-time following my maternity leave. This was after I said I didn’t really need maternity leave since I’d be home, but they kind of insisted. Which, I’ll admit was sort of an awkward phone call with HR but thankfully it all worked out in the end.

So basically I admitted that I can’t afford six weeks off with no pay. They agreed to let me work when I wanted, logging hours as I wanted, but no pressure throughout the month of September, then start up full-time hours at the beginning of October. Which is like, absolutely perfect and everything I ever wanted.

I even get to set my own schedule, so I’ll be working 7-3 and still off in the afternoons. AND I found a mother’s helper. It’s just… it couldn’t be better. Everyone from my boss to HR to my whole team is so friendly and chill and accommodating, and now I have the added bonus of making a full-time salary to boot. I could not possibly be more satisfied with how it all worked out.

Anticipating…
Uh, I dunno, how about HAVING A FREAKING BABY ON FRIDAY?

Hoping…
Really hoping everything goes well with my c-section. This is my first planned section, so I have way too much time to Google complications and stuff. I may or may not have asked my OB/GYN how she “knows when to stop cutting so she doesn’t slice the baby.”

Wondering…
If I’m the only one who isn’t 6,000% jazzed about a solar eclipse. I’m just not that excited. There, I said it.

Trying…
To motivate myself to pack a hospital bag.

Worrying…
About surgery and recovery, plus Liam dealing with not being the baby anymore. I think he’s really going to have a hard time adjusting and I’m just dreading that part.

Planning…
I’m pretty proud of how much I got done in anticipation of Molly starting preschool ten days after the baby is born. I finished her back to school shopping, got her an outfit… she’s ready to go, and she’s so excited about it.

Contemplating…
A nap. But I really shouldn’t.

OK, time to go maybe take that nap and/or read some more! Have I mentioned how much I love coordinated nap times for the kids?

We had such a great summer.

We had such a great summer.

room for all of us

I’ll never forget a conversation I overheard once. Someone asked a mom if she was going to have more children and she replied that she would like to, but had decided against it simply because she didn’t have any more bedrooms in her house.

That’s insane.

Now that I’m pregnant with my third, I can’t tell you how many people ask me where the child will sleep. Our house was advertised as a 2-bedroom and we went to look at it anyway. I’m glad we did because it actually had 3 bedrooms (though not technically since that third “room” didn’t have a closet). As it stands, with Eric working from home full time and being the sort of person who needs an office/man cave/escape from screaming toddlers, we have two bedrooms – one master and one combo kid bedroom and playroom.

There is nowhere for this new baby to go. And yet… I know she’ll be just fine.

(Also, to answer the question, she’ll sleep in our room in a bassinet next to our bed as both my other newborns did. Then after some months go by… I don’t know, we’ll figure it out then).

I shared a room with my sister growing up. I don’t remember loving or hating it – that’s just how things were. My brother had a bedroom the size of a shoebox and I think I was just happy to have a space I could actually twirl around in, even if it was shared. There’s also something comforting about sharing a bedroom – especially at an age when you kind of think monsters might still exist.

I also remember how weird it was moving when I was 16 – we went from a 1,600 square foot cape cod with one bathroom to a 3,500 square foot McMansion. It was exciting, but lonely. For those first few months I definitely saw my family less and while that was appealing to the snarky teen in me… looking back, it really wasn’t that great. I missed my old house because I’m hostile to change and also because I missed the closeness. I’m sure the adults thought it was cramped and small but I never did.

In 2016, average American home size was up to 2,687 square feet – a huge increase from the 1973 average, which was 1,660 square feet. Also, unsurprisingly, the number of occupants per home has dwindled from 3.0 to 2.5 (yes, I researched all of this because I was curious. Huge nerd alert). I didn’t bother looking up older statistics but I’m fairly certain our great-great-grandparents shared rooms and even beds all the time – with entire families jammed into small spaces and not even complaining about it. Where did we get the idea that we need so much space to exist?

There are a lot of things I don’t like about my house – and actually, the lack of a playroom is one of them, because despite my minimalist daydreams, the toys are slowly but surely taking over every available inch of space. But one thing I do love is how I don’t even need a baby monitor because my kids’ room is a few feet from my own door and I can practically hear them breathing at night.

I remember freaking out over having the nursery ready for Molly, and knowing I was being ridiculous but still being so concerned about it. When I was pregnant with Liam, I did take the time to get ready and at least attempted to incorporate boy things but I was a lot more chill. This baby? Hmmm, the newborn clothes have been untouched for almost three years and are probably mouse eaten, the bassinet is completely disassembled, and all the other “baby stuff” is just sitting in a heap in the attic. It’s not that I don’t care about her or that I’m not excited… it’s that now for the third go-round, I know what matters.

I’ve become fond of saying babies need two things – boobies and warm hugs. Our sweet little girl won’t be able to see very well, but she’ll be able to feel all the love that’s waiting to welcome her. She definitely won’t notice that she doesn’t have her own room. At least… not for a few years.

That’s been on my mind lately. I stumbled upon the cutest toddler bunk beds that I definitely want to get for Liam & Molly once the baby is big enough to move into the big kid room. Coincidentally, it was one year ago today that I moved Molly into her big girl bed and Liam into the crib, so she wasn’t quite two… that’s exactly how old Liam will be when I need to move the baby in with them. I can’t imagine him being ready but then again it’s hard to overestimate the maturity difference between 1.5 and 2. I guess I forgot.

I hope everyone had a lovely Mother’s Day! Ours was low-key and spent with extended family… just how I like it. I wanted to go to the zoo with the kids but it was a weird weather day so we’re saving our fun family outing for another time. As I said on Facebook, coming home to a cleaned house Friday night was honestly the best gift I could have received. I keep telling Eric I’d rather have experience gifts than physical items (the experience of not house cleaning…?) and he came through for me, big time.

It’s going to sound cheesy but Mother’s Day is supposed to be about celebrating moms but all I can ever think about is how I’m just so happy to BE a mom at all. Everyone talks about giving mom a break but I don’t want a break… not even on Mother’s Day. I just want allllll the motherhood. Even the crappy parts. I know that’s super weird.

Have a lovely week, even if your house is small!

 

…and a happy new year

It’s been forever. I’m blaming technology.

Or should I say, lack thereof. I had to turn in my work laptop which was functioning as my personal laptop for the past two years. No computer = no blog posts. Eric has been valiantly trying to resurrect my old, dead HP but it’s probably a lost cause. Meanwhile, at my new job I’m on the list to get a laptop but I’m not first in line, meaning I’ll have a few months of using this sad excuse for my lack of consistent posting.

When we last left off… it was forever ago. In the interim between then and now, Christmas happened, New Year’s happened, I started my new job and things are moving right along. I have to say it’s pretty weird to once again be a functioning member of the workforce. While technically no time lapsed between my last day worked at Rodale my first day with Altitude (besides the holidays), I had been laid off six weeks prior and let’s just say things had become verrrrrry lax in December. It was really great for things like coming in late due to oil change appointments and leaving early basically every day after taking two hour lunches, but now that I’m once again expected to be in the office and working 40 hours per week, it’s a real shock to the system.

The funny thing is I don’t even miss getting paid to do “nothing.” Having no tasks and no future with the company made me bored and irritated, and as hard as it is adjusting to busyness, it feels good to once again feel like I’m contributing something. Like, if I’m going to haul my ass out of bed at 6AM, shower, dress, drop my kids off, and drive 40 minutes, it might as well be for something of value to someone. I’m very pleased so far with my new company and everyone has been over-the-top welcoming and kind. Really, my only complaint is that I need a laptop so I can blog.

On the baby front, I have my first ultrasound tomorrow. Eep! I truly have no symptoms, besides random waves of nausea that last for no longer than 15 minutes at a time. I am positively dreading telling my new employer that I’m preggo and I don’t know why. I think they will react well – besides asking the obvious question, “Are you intending to come back, or do you have an untapped trust fund which would allow you to put three kids in daycare?”

The truth is I don’t know and I didn’t plan that far ahead. It’s weird for me because I’m a planner, and a control freak, and not planning is the antithesis of everything I stand for. I guess in my mind having this baby (and the others) is way too important and since the problem had no solution, I pushed forward despite it being a crazy idea. At first I stayed calm and believed a solution would just appear. Now as things progress, I’m starting to panic a little. I still have a lot of time… but we all know time flies when you’re having fun.

My sister is having her baby in July and as of then (if not before) she will not be watching my brood anymore. I called earlier this week to price out daycare and promptly threw up in my mouth. Whyyyyy is it so expensive, whyyyyy? I think at this point, the ideal situation would be to find someone reputable who operated an in-home daycare that was accepting more children. Or, to send them to my daycare of choice (which in the grand scheme of daycares, isn’t even that expensive, but still way more than what I’ve been paying all this time) on a part-time basis and somehow finagle our schedules to only have them in 25 hours per week (which would save us something like $300/month). A final option would be to find someone to come to the house, but I can’t imagine a person like that would be cheaper than daycare. I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.

As for what happens post-September… I’m not even going to think about that right now. One day at a freaking time. In other news, if you know Mary Poppins or anyone similar, please let me know. I’m in the market.

The kids are doing well for the most part. Liam has a cold this week and in typical male fashion is just being super dramatic about it. He just wants to be held and rocked while he moans and complains, which is fine by me to some extent. He’s now walking if not running full time, still getting into everything, and starting to dabble in speaking by mimicking our tones and inflections when he babbles. If we’re in the car and I say, “Liam?” he’ll always respond with,“Mmm?” It’s super cute.

Molly went from absolutely dead-set against potty training to 90% trained in a matter of 4 days. That’s just proof that I needed to be patient and wait until she was ready. Sometimes she wakes up dry, sometimes not, but as for during the day she rarely has accidents and was VERY excited to pick out a new potty seat to go on the big potty last weekend.

Other than that, not much, just trying to survive the bitter cold temps and constantly broken down furnace. I am tackling a Whole30 this month despite being in my first trimester, which I know is pretty ambitious. The Whole30 is completely safe to do while pregnant and I’m eating plenty, don’t worry. My main goal is to feel better, function better, sleep better, and also put off how long it takes me to show so I can delay telling my employer for as long as possible. Which I realize is totally ridiculous since I swear I already have a bump. Dammit.

Ok, wish me luck on that U/S tomorrow! The thing I want most (besides seeing a good strong heartbeat) is to finally be taken off the PIO injections. She’s had me doing oral + injections for 2 weeks as an overlap so I didn’t have a sudden drop in progesterone, but I am anxiously awaiting the day I can stop injections in my poor, sore, lumpy back.

Pray for me, friends.

A girl went in for a routine medical procedure. One week later? You won’t BELIEVE what happened next.

Sorry not sorry for the headline. I am so horrified yet fascinated by clickbait that I had to try it out for myself.

You may be wondering how this morning went.

I had a dream I was taking a pregnancy test. As I always do, I peed, then set the test next to me on the sink face down until I was mentally ready to face the results. That moment stretched on and on. Finally, I stood, and just as I was about to turn it over…

My alarm went off.

Then I remembered I got to do it for real, today.

So I went through all that same steps in actual life, only this time I stood at the sink and looked at myself in the mirror. I was shaky and nervous. I want this, I don’t want this. I do want this. Of course I want this.

I flipped the test over.

It was positive.

That’s right, we are four for four on embryo transfers, though to be fair only 5 of the 6 embryos we attempted to implant stuck. I’m so glad to report that lucky number six was one of the sticky ones.

Today was significant because I looked back over my timeline and realized that I always do the HPT on 6dp5dt. (For the non-infertility vets: that’s home pregnancy test on six days past five day transfer). So I knew I had to take the test today for luck or superstition or just because I was sick of waiting.

I have a blood test Thursday, but then I’m not sure what happens after that because I assume the office is closed on Christmas Eve, so I won’t get to know about doubling betas and all that good stuff. We’ve been faithfully doing the injections but my progesterone levels were low last week so I had to increase my dosage from 1mL to 1.5mL daily. As far as symptoms… same as last time. Some cramping/tugging/pulling sensations all weekend that could have been the literal feeling of implantation or my overactive imagination. Interestingly, I’ve been getting up in the middle of the night to pee these past few nights, which is something I never do unless I’m pregnant or hungover. Again, could be my subconscious waking me up, or the anxiety over what the answer would be.

I’ve spent the last few days doing fun things like Googling pregnancy complications from multiple c-sections, and queries such as “How many c-sections are you allowed to have, anyway?” (As one woman on a message board enthusiastically reported, the answer is 9 or more, at least for her, which made me cringe). I’m not too thrilled about having another but I don’t have a choice in the matter. Also, funny how I’m worrying about this when I’m only about 5 minutes pregnant. Anything could happen between now and then, even if I have been avoiding gluten so well.

I became obsessed with the idea of the embryo implanting in the c-section scar, which is a very scary thing that can happen but doesn’t happen often. Not that there’s anything I can do to prevent it anyway, and worrying gets me nowhere. Still, I worry. And lately it’s been worry over the very real problem of my kids needing their mother and what if I die and on and on… you should get inside my head sometimes. It’s quite a place.

Next up… I don’t even know. Blood test I guess, then go from there. Eric was not at all surprised I was pregnant but I kind of was. We are due for a negative and I figured this one would be it. (Not that it works like that. Obviously).

You know the drill… prayers are appreciated as we wait and hope for this little one to burrow deep and grow. I will do my very best to keep you posted on happenings. If all goes well, by the end of August 2017 we will have three kids under 4. Phew.

I hope you all have a beautiful Christmas!

I’m pregnant. AHHHHHH!

40 weeks today, and now we have a plan

I made it to 40 weeks, woo hoo! Baby boy just has to stay in there 4 more days for me to get the good maternity leave. The closer we get to the 24th, the more I believe it’s actually possible.

I had my last OB appointment this morning and I’m still 1cm dilated, now 70% effaced. At my appointment we discussed all my options. Over the past few days I’ve spent a good amount of time on Google (bad idea) and read horror stories about being induced along with horror stories about waiting. All of it is very confusing and stressful and really the only consensus seems to be that going into labor naturally is best for mother and baby, which I do believe, but also cannot control.

Here’s my catch-22:

1) Being induced decreases chances of a successful VBAC
2) Going past 40 weeks decreases chances of a successful VBAC

Basically I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t. A few reasons I was leaning towards induction at 41 weeks:

1) My preferred doctor will be in the hospital all day Friday and will be able to keep a close eye on me
2) I had a few placental issues last time – the abruption and possibly IUGR (which would explain her low birth weight). If he stays in, could these things happen again?
3) I’d like to meet him
4) I made plans for 12/6 that can’t be changed. I know that’s insane/probably selfish but it didn’t even occur to me I’d still be pregnant!

Yeah so for these reasons I did go ahead and schedule the induction for next Friday, 11/27. Of course my sincere hope is that I go into labor naturally before then, but if I don’t, that will be the day. Part of me feels very guilty for not going crunchy/natural and waiting until the absolute end of the end week 42, but another part of me is relieved to have an end date.

By this day next week, I’ll be holding my son in my arms.

Incredible.

fat, broke, and toothless… but the curtains are fabulous

Nesting… it’s no joke.

As of today I am 39 weeks pregnant. Seven days until baby boy is due to make his grand appearance. It goes without saying that I’ve been vacuuming daily, keeping the sink empty at all times, and wandering around the house aimlessly, Swiffer duster in hand, ready to attack any and all dust particles that dare to cross my path. Yesterday, however, I took it one step further.

I’ve had major beef with the curtain industry for years. I think curtains are a huge racket and have been Pinterest-ing my little butt off, trying to come up with cost-effective curtain hacks whenever I can.

When it comes down to it, curtains are simply rectangles of fabric – nothing more, nothing less. Sometimes they have fancy details like grommets but most of the time they don’t. So why do curtain panels cost so damn much?

Venture into your average Bed, Bath, & Beyond and you’re likely to find a wealth of options when it comes to curtains. But if you’re looking for floor to ceiling panels, you can expect to pay around $40 – per panel! And that’s an average. I’ve seen panels for upwards of $80 each. And no, they’re not woven with gold thread and mermaid hair. I just don’t get it.

Even Target – dear, beloved Target – has very few options under $20/panel. The $14.99 options are really chintzy and ugly. So yeah. I’ve been on this curtain mission, because unfortunately, in my absolutely-illogical-39 weeks pregnant-and-nesting-frenzy, I decided I needed to replace all the curtains in my home. Immediately.

Since Molly and baby boy are sharing a room, I already knew I’d need to replace those curtains since they are pink and lacy. But back when I was slightly more sane a few weeks ago, I figured I had some time, because it’s not like he’s going to get home from the hospital and turn up his little newborn nose at pink lace. We still haven’t even set up the crib, for heaven’s sake. The actual room share is still months away. Still, I had been halfheartedly looking for new curtain options because like I said, I refuse to be made a fool of by the big, bad, curtain industry. So every time I shopped I checked clearance racks and my personal favorite curtain hack treasure trove – shower curtains.

Molly's frilly pink curtains

Molly’s frilly pink curtains

Yes, seriously, shower curtains! Those pink lace curtains I hung up for Molly weren’t actually curtains… they were shower curtains purchased from BBB after an exhaustive search. At $30/each they were still more than I wanted to spend, but yes I did justify splurging just a little at the time. And since they are so wide, I only needed two rather than four.

To hang shower curtains as window curtains, you’ll just need a few packs of cafe clips (found anywhere they sell curtains). They come in packs of 7, which is slightly annoying because I feel like four on each side could work well but three on one side and four on the other just doesn’t cut it. For two windows, I ended up using 3 packs (21 total clips, five per window with one extra), and it turned out just how I wanted.

Hunting the aisles of Target on Thursday afternoon I found them – two green shower curtains, on clearance for $7.48 each. All I did was cut them in half and voila – four curtain panels for $3.74 each. You just can’t beat that! I actually spent more on the cafe clips to hang them than I did on the curtains themselves.

I love the shower curtain trick because they usually have awesome patterns, and like I said, they are very wide and one curtain will easily transform into two panels. If you want to get fancy, you can go to a craft store and purchase iron-on hem tape to hide the cut edge, OR, if you’re in a rush like I was, you can just tuck the cut edge behind and vow to do a proper hemming later. Whatevs.

Here’s how they turned out:

green curtains

Next up… master bedroom. We had green curtains which I decided just didn’t match the gray walls. I actually found *real* and affordable curtains at Christmas Tree Shops months ago and just hadn’t gotten around to hanging them yet. So these curtains were essentially “free” (the same way anything you buy and put away and find again later is free). Christmas Tree Shops is hit or miss… they always have good prices, but the quality is not always great. All of the sheers you see in the photos are from there – $6.99 each. Yes, great. The gray panels I used in the bedroom were $7.99 each and very nice and heavy, light blocking even. Upon closer inspection of the packaging I realized why… they were originally $40/panel at Kohls, so apparently CTS must have bought them to resell. Score!

I will admit that these were the easiest to hang and the ones that look the best because they didn’t need to be altered or anything. But finding deals is basically a full-time job, and I just ain’t got time for that.

Bedroom:

gray curtains

One more room to reinvent… the living room. The curtains I had hanging there were raw silk Pottery Barn panels that I’m sure cost someone, somewhere a fortune and that I found at a gigantic flea market a few years ago. When I bought them, we had a tan couch. Now our couches are green and our curtains are a slightly different shade of green and HOW CAN I BE EXPECTED TO LIVE IN THAT KIND OF WORLD WITH A BABY COMING?! (Nesting. Nesting is a real, bizarre thing).

Ok, so here I improvised and I’m not sure I’m in love with the results, but it is better than the green clashing situation I had going prior. I bought a tablecloth from Target over the summer and absolutely love the pattern, but it was way too big for our table and it was annoying that the sides basically dragged on the floor. I put it away with the intention of one day maybe turning it into curtains because, as I said, anytime I have large yardage of any kind of fabric that’s where my mind goes. I pulled my little trick of cutting it in half and hanging the two panels with cafe hooks, but the problem with the tablecloth is that it’s not as wide as the shower curtains, so the panels are a little flimsy (especially for such a large window). Oh, well. Again, I only spent $14.99 on one tablecloth, and since I bought it over the summer, this living room curtain makeover was “free.” (minus the growing cost of cafe clips).

Here it is:

living room curtains

The kitchen curtains got to stay. The dining room curtains also got to stay simply because the dining room is impassable these days and is basically being used as a storage area (unassembled crib included). The bathroom has NO CURTAINS, which yes, causes me daily grief. But you’d be surprised how much energy it took to change just the three rooms I’ve mentioned. I had PTO to use, which is why I had off yesterday, and of course made a giant list of things to do and accomplished fewer than half of them. “Get down on hands and knees and scrub kitchen floor” along with “repaint all the trim” got bumped. Possibly to January.

What else? This is super gross/embarrassing, but hey, I’ll share anyway. Wednesday afternoon I was sitting there at work, minding my own business and snacking on a Starburst (as one does) when all of the sudden I heard a CRACK! and out popped my tooth. My tooth!

Ok, so it was a crown but still… EW! I genuinely had no idea what to do in that moment. I quickly went outside and called my dentist who agreed to take a look that afternoon to see if he could save it. But here’s the messed up part – I went there, broken crown cradled in a napkin, and he strode into the room and declared it couldn’t be fixed even before looking in my mouth or taking an x-ray. It’s like, wtf buddy, why did you get my hopes up and make me rush over if you knew it couldn’t be repaired from the get-go?

He recommended me to an oral surgeon who was kind enough to see me the next day (Thursday). I had already planned on embarking on ‘mission: new curtains’ since I had scheduled a half day at work, but instead chose to go for the consult to see if Mr. Oral Surgeon could do the extraction/repair/new implant before baby boy made his debut. Coordinating that kind of thing with a newborn and a toddler just sounded less than appealing, you know? So instead of going shopping after work like I wanted, I hightailed it over to the surgeon and was once again disappointed. All I did was sit my ass in the chair and he came in all, “Well, we would like to wait to do the extraction until after you give birth because then we can use stronger drugs.” Ok, so… what the hell?? Again, he knew I was 9 months pregnant when I scheduled the consult, so if he was just going to tell me I had to wait, why make me come in for the appointment? I mean, obviously the answer is $$$$. Clearly he doesn’t realize/care that I’d rather be spending my hard-earned cash on new curtains than on pointless dentist visits.

So here I sit… fat, broke, and toothless. I mean, basically. It’s the molar all the way in the back, so it’s not like anyone can see it. I was also informed that implants are upwards of $5,000, so I’ll have to figure out if that’s worth it after all. Probably not.

Adult problems are fun, aren’t they?

Now it’s Saturday and I don’t have much on the agenda besides cleaning (more) and awaiting the arrival of this child. I got checked on Friday and I’m still 1cm dilated, 50% effaced. Thursday night I was having horrific contractions that I was convinced were the real deal, but then of course they weren’t.

Maybe I’ll make it to the 24th? One can only hope… I do need that money. I have new curtains and new teeth to buy.

Here’s Molly, getting in some practice:

the best big sister EVER

the best big sister EVER

oh, hello, november…

YOU GUYS.

I’m having a baby this month.

This month!

My poor, poor second child. My nesting instincts are… intact, but like 1,000 times less agressive than they were with Molly. In my defense, mostly everything is set up already. The changing table, the bassinett, the random stuff. I know what to expect when I bring him home. I’m ready(ish).

I have been vacuuming a lot. But I wouldn’t say that’s abnormal for me.

We put his dresser in place but I’ve yet to put away his clothes. I have two batches of hand-me-downs – one from my sister, and one from Eric’s sister. Since I know Eric’s sister wants hers back, I need to sit down with a fabric marker and label all of the clothes from my sister so I can sort them out later (cause ain’t no way I’ll remember which outfits came from which person). A daunting task, to be sure. Hence my procrastination.

The other thing I need to do is pack my bag for the hospital. This task I remember putting off with Molly, mostly because it felt like once I did it, she would come (this idea turned out to be inaccurate). It’s just sort of annoying because many of the items, like my toothbrush, pillow, and favorite yoga pants, can’t be packed right now anyway because I’ll need them for the next couple weeks. But still, I guess I can throw in some nursing tanks and nipple cream. Gah, I seriously haven’t thought about needing those things in so long! I think I’m partially in denial. But still, I feel a lot better prepared this time around. At least I’m not TOTALLY clueless.

My last check at the OB/GYN was on Friday – and it was an actual “check,” if you know what I mean. Right now I’m 1 cm dilated, 50% effaced, and to quote my doctor, “Oh, yes that’s the head right there!” I know you can be 1 cm or even 2 cm forever, but just hearing that, and knowing that his head is *right there* makes me more convinced than ever that he’s coming sooner rather than later. As much as I’d love for him to stay put… ehhhhh, I don’t think so.

My doctor also discussed induction if he chooses not to make an appearance (which gave me a little hope for being late, at least), and she said that 11/27 works well for her since she’ll be at the hospital all day anyway and she likes to keep a close eye on her VBACs. This is the doctor who I really like and hope to have around for my delivery, so I agreed to that date. Why not? Like I said, I don’t think I’m going to make it until then anyway. But it’s nice to dream. It’s not like I have any big shopping plans for Black Friday. Ha!

Last Friday afternoon Molly came to work for trick-or-treating, and I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that she legit won Halloween. I can’t tell you how many people said to me that she had the best costume of the day.

#twinning

#twinning

I’ll admit, I wasn’t too keen on the idea of my beautiful little girl dressed up as an ewok… because they’re a little frightening and not really cute, plus as I’ve said, the whole Star Wars thing is all Eric and not me. Eric ordered the costume pieces after he saw the tutorial last year and had it tucked away for that long, so obviously I had to allow it, plus I didn’t have any other great ideas. I did not know how freaking popular Star Wars everything was going to be this year – I’m sure that helped.

One of the creative departments at work put together a whole Star Wars themed section that was so over the top – I’m talking flashing strobe lights, full size cut outs, movie projections, music, the works. Of course we brought Molly there first and within seconds she started dancing with the music! We all just about died from the cuteness overload. Especially since her “dancing” is more like twerking with a lot of booty shaking, which will probably be concerning in like 15 years but for now is pretty much the best thing ever. My only complaint with the costume is that about half the people thought she was a little boy. But I mean, whatever, she would make a very cute little boy.

Saturday was trick-or-treat in our town and it was pretty fun. This is a great age when she doesn’t really get what’s going on and Eric and I get to eat all her candy. Seriously, the amount of candy in my house is obscene. But I did ask at the OB/GYN how much I gained with this pregnancy and it’s only 32 lbs so… yay me! That’s more than I wanted to but still only HALF of how much I gained with Molly. I’m calling it a win. Because I want more candy.

November. It’s November!

I’m starting to get really excited.

And that’s not just the candy talking.

today + one month = DD

Here we are, exactly one month until the big DD. Not that I want it to happen that day because of previously stated maternity leave issues, but technically, that’s the day marked on my calendar. Eeek!

I’ll be honest – and you can quote me on this – I think I’m going to go early. Space is LIMITED in the ol’ uterus. It’s really weird… I wake up and feel pretty decent/comfortable, but as the day goes on my stomach just gets tighter and tighter until it’s 7pm and I’m writhing around on the couch pitifully, insisting that someone needs to, “GET IT OUT, GET IT OUT OF ME RIGHT NOW.” Sometimes it literally feels like he’s just going to pop right out of there. It’s hella uncomfortable – like wearing an about-to-burst balloon that someone insists on continuing to inflate. Like, can’t you see there’s no more room in there? How am I going to survive for 4 more weeks?

Another reason I think he may come early is because he’s been head down for the past two months. So I think he’s ready (and is probably very cramped). I’m a little nervous that I won’t know I’m actually in labor because contractions have been described as a “tightening” and that’s something I experience on a daily basis. My whole abdomen is just… tight. It would be nice to know what it felt like but I don’t know. Remember with Molly I was induced, and the pain I felt was excruciating from the get-go. Now in hindsight I’m wondering if that’s because the abruption was happening. Would that make it hurt more? I have no idea. I just hope I realize I’m in labor and I don’t wind up on the news as some crazy person who gave birth at her desk at work because she was too stupid to realize what was happening. Especially for a second child. Plus… embarrassing, right?

Anywho…

Last night I posted the following status on Facebook:
fpost

The funny part about it was that about 2 minutes after I posted, the person who posted the article I’m referring to commented her apologies. Funny/awkward that she totally knew I was talking about her!

I’m starting to hate Facebook these days and that’s one huge reason why. I don’t know if your friends are the same way, but for some reason, a huge number of people on my feed (and the girl in question from last night is not even close to the worst offender, if you’re reading this S, I’m sorry to keep calling you out!) feel compelled to share links to these horrifying news stories, but I cannot for the life of me figure out why. Like… what is the point? There’s nothing I can do; the damage is done. All you’ve done is confirm that evil people exist and now I have to be haunted with the knowledge that another terrible thing happened to another innocent person. So essentially, you’ve ruined my day and made me feel helpless and sad, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Thanks.

And before you say, “So just don’t click on the article,” know that most of the time I don’t click, but the title and photo tell me more than enough. In this case I did click in because apparently I love to torture myself. Hence the sobbing. And no I’m not telling you what it was about because I’m not mean like that. Go to sleep tonight happy knowing that you don’t know. It’s better that way.

In the realm of social media, Twitter confuses me/stresses me out because I can never “catch up” and it just makes me feel like I’m constantly missing out on something. It’s easier to just never log in. I’m way too old for Snapchat. LinkedIn is boring and possibly pointless (unless you’re job hunting). Is Google+ still even a thing? The only social media space I really love anymore is Instagram, so if you want to find me, that’s where I’ll be. Ok, rant over.

I was toying around with doing yet another post about friendship or lack thereof but at this point I’ve written about it so many times that you all probably think I’m a huge loser or something. So rather than make a big deal about it, I’ll just add in my thoughts here at the end of this long-winded post that most of you have possibly stopped reading by now anyway. Sound good? Ok, good.

Friendship. I did finally make friends at work (remember how worried I was about not being accepted at first?) and that’s been fantastic. Monday through Friday, 8am to 5pm, I have a great group of girls to chat with, eat lunch with, and text randomness to. A few are actually cool enough that we could conceivably hang out after hours, but I live about 40 minutes away from where I work and all my new pals live near work, not near home. Soooo as much as I like the one girl, and as nice as it is that she has a fire in her backyard every Thursday and invited me to come, ain’t no way I’m going to drive the 40 minutes home, bundle up the baby and the husband, and then drive 40 minutes back to stand around in the cold.

In general, as I’ve mentioned repeatedly now, I really miss having close female friendships in my life. This is going to sound silly, but sometimes Molly is playing so nicely or just being so cute that I want to share her with someone. My God, does that make me sound crazy? But really. I’m proud of how good she is and how sociable and sweet. I know there must be other women out there with children around the same age and I can’t help but envision us hanging out together, watching our little ones play. But I don’t know how to find these people!

My sister got so pissed at me last time I wrote a post like this because she thought I was implying that she wasn’t my friend and that I didn’t want to hang out with her. Duh, anyone with a brain can figure out that my sister is my best friend. But sometimes I feel like a burden to her – like she has to be the default person I always call to do stuff with and maybe she doesn’t always want to hang out. Plus, she watches Molly all week long and while I know she loves Molly like one of her own, maybe she needs a small Molly-break on weekends.

In my little town, there’s an active mom’s club for stay at home moms that I can’t join because I’m not a stay at home mom (oh, the discrimination!). There’s that website I joined called Mom Meet Mom (I think they changed their name now?) that never amounted to anything. Then there’s MeetUp.com, which conveniently has nothing promising on it besides the aforementioned SAHM club. So… yeah.

My prediction is that once Molly is in school or starts doing activities I will naturally begin to meet and make friends with other moms with kids the same age. My problem, as usual, is just impatience. So at this point I guess I need to calm down and just classify this weird interim as “the friendless years” (which was the working title of my pathetic post that never got written). Or maybe I’m just no fun and I’ll be stuck writing rambling posts and having nothing but internet friends for the rest of my life. Hey! Stranger things have happened.

maternity leave problems

So here’s a funny story that’s not actually funny.

When I started with this company, one of the first things I saw in the handbook was that they offered infertility coverage. Which is UNHEARD OF in Pennsylvania (where it’s not state mandated). I gleefully planned for the day when I would do my second embryo transfer and not have to spend a fortune on it. Key words: planned for. Turns out the universe had other plans.

I also noticed that the company has an impressive maternity leave (well, you know, impressive for the United States. Not that I want to start that whole argument, which feels like a very hot button topic right now). It’s not quite on the Netflix level… but 8 weeks at full pay is pretty dang nice, especially since my last job offered 6 weeks at 50% salary (I did get 8 weeks in the end because it was a c-section). Still better than nothing… but I ended up having to spend hours upon hours on the phone deferring all of my student loans to make up for the fact that I wouldn’t be earning my whole paychecks during that time. Yes, we need my whole salary to survive. Mostly because of the endlessly frustrating reality of student loans. That’s just my life.

Anywayyy… I was really looking forward to not having to do any of that here. 8 weeks, full salary. No problemo. Except.

You only receive these amazing maternity leave benefits after 1 year of service.

My one year anniversary with the company is November 24th.

My due date is November 21st.

So… crap.

I met with HR last week and they admitted that they’ve not yet encountered a situation quite like mine. I may be the only person at the end of a pregnancy who will be wishing my baby stays in late rather than comes out. Because that would be so much better.

And that’s not to say I get nothing if he comes on time or early. I still get paid 3 weeks at full salary and 4 weeks at 60% – better than I thought, and better than the last place I worked. But that’s a lot of money to lose over just a couple of days, and then I’m back to pleading with the student loan deities to grant me 2 months of reprieve (you’d be amazed the hoops you need to jump through to accomplish this). I also found it a little insulting when the HR person came out said, “Well, most women do take the 12 weeks.” I guess no one else who works here is living paycheck to paycheck and can just afford a month without pay? I mean, good for them. But that’s not happening for me.

This whole thing is so annoying, right?! And before you ask – I do have 1.5 days of vacation time left to use for the year, which I have to take before my anniversary because it doesn’t roll over. So theoretically I could schedule it for November 20th (Friday) and 23rd (Monday). But when I emailed HR they said that if I played it like that, the day I went out would count towards starting my leave, assuming I did have the baby during that time. In other words – I can’t cheat the system. Either this baby is late, or I’m not getting the “good” maternity leave. Period.

Molly was late – 4 days late, and would have been even later had I not been induced. But most women I’ve spoken to have said the second one usually comes earlier than the first. So that’s a bummer.

Of course, this is all out of my hands. He will come when he comes. Worrying about it now does absolutely nothing besides stress me out.

I will say that in November, I will be doing the opposite of what most 9-month-pregnant mamas do – no spicy food, no bouncing on balls, no long walks. I might be sitting legs crossed in a chair straight on through Thanksgiving.

You do what you gotta do.