Valentine’s Day ideas

You know, the day where the boys get flowers and candy for the girls.

While I think that we should take a little time every day to show our love, it is kind of nice to have this ‘reminder day’ because I don’t know about you, but I often fall short of letting my DH know just how much I love and care about him.

So…. what do I do for him? I’m stressed from work/work change and tired from not sleeping very well and I feel like my brain isn’t functioning enough to figure out something to do for him (of course I had no problem getting myself a gift: Ed Sheeran tickets!). It doesn’t have to be anything big or expensive. But I want him to know that I care and I want him to feel it. I feel like we have been together so long that sometimes even I forget how much he really means to me and how much life would suck without him. That him taking out the trash on Wednesday nights and brushing snow off my car in the morning are not things that everyone gets, and I feel that sometimes I take all of those little things for granted.

So, what kinds of things are you doing for your loved one? What things do they do for you that make you feel loved?

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Working mom weight loss

I don’t know how long I can use the ‘baby weight’ excuse, but I’m sure it is long past acceptable.

Growing up I was always skinny, I mean VERY small, I think it was mostly the result of being super picky, and you know, having a metabolism!

I had put on weight when I graduated college, I was pretty depressed that I was having trouble finding a job, and I would sleep til noon, be in bed by 9 and sit around upset all day. After I got my job, I started losing some, and then after I got engaged and picked out my wedding dress I really kicked it into gear and lost a lot! I was so proud of myself for that, I still feel it is one of my greater accomplishments. I did a circuit exercise and ate a lot of overnight oats for lunch, and did 1 vegetarian day per week.

To accomplish the work out, which doesn’t seem to be overly time consuming when I think about it, a lot of things suffered. Mostly my house. Dishes and laundry piled up, the place was a mess, we ate a lot of cereal for dinner, but I was in great shape and felt good about that.

Now with Baby Bach, I am really struggling to find the time to work out (and the fact that I get home fairly late due to my long drive doesn’t help I’m sure). My house already suffers just because of the time and energy it takes to keep a 1 year old boy alive and happy! I had my annual physical today… I am overweight. I feel like I look in the mirror with clothes on, and I don’t think I look overweight, but of course, when I clothes come off, I really don’t like what I see. I know I have gained weight since I stopped breastfeeding, which also should give me more time to work out, but somehow that new found time is going to making dinner, doing dishes, trying to keep up on laundry. Oh and spending some adult time with my spouse (not in THAT way… well… okay, sometimes).

I know that working out isn’t about motivation, but about discipline, and I think that helped me before my wedding, but I really need some type of goal and to see the results. So I am thinking maybe of downloading an app that tracks weight loss to kick my butt into gear? I would love to do a weight loss challenge to motivate me, but that is only temporary motivation and I don’t even know where to find/start one.

I think I’ll post my BMI here to help me track.

26.9

Any suggestions on apps? workout routines? motivators?

 

 

It wouldn’t have changed my decision

I wrote this Friday and then got interrupted and sidetracked, so I am posting today. 

To expand on the job I applied for a few weeks ago, where I got a call and interview request in less than 24 hours…

I went to my interview a couple of weeks ago, I thought it went pretty well. It is crazy how different I felt going into this interview as opposed to going into interviews for my 1st job in my career. I was relaxed, slept well the night before, didn’t practice, I just woke up that morning and went in and went with the flow. I was told it would be 2 weeks until they made a decision. Then… last Friday, I got a call with an offer.

And I have been going crazy ever since. Do I go? Do I stay? I mean there are wayyyyy more pros to going, better company, MUCH shorter drive, and much better pay and benefits. Also, the people seemed great, I got to meet up with them again yesterday for a tour of the facility. They really want me to join their team.

Here, I have the people I work with, who have been there for me when things were not going so great in fertility land. They have always been compassionate and understanding. And my boss is allowing me to work part time at 32 hours a week (4 days) but of course I drive 1 hour each way in great conditions. And I have a great reputation here, I worked hard to build it. It would be scary to start over.

A couple of days ago I told my boss about the offer, he understand completely with the drive I have why this is so lucrative to me, I told him the pay and benefits were greater too, but I have still yet to make my decision.

Now, when B told his boss (we worked at the same company) he had an offer, he went immediately into action offering raises etc. to stay. Another coworker that left recently also got offered a very large amount to stay (he still turned it down). So I figured I would give my boss some time to decide what he wants to do to try to keep me.

Today he had me meet with people in charge of a new position where I would be somewhat closer to home (closer, but with heavy traffic making the drive worse than now!) and that was it… haven’t talked to him since. But for as many times as he said “I really don’t want to see you go” he sure didn’t put much effort into keeping me. And that makes me sad. VERY very sad. I’ve worked for this guy for 6+ years… and I don’t feel worth much to him anymore.

 

So…. I accepted it.

And I’m terrified.

New Chapter in the Bach’s life will begin mid-March.

 

Holy crap. What did I do?

 

 

PSA

Inspired by my loving husband….

 

If it doesn’t fit in the dishwasher, it is OKAY to wash it by hand!!!

Please don’t leave it in the sink and call it a day.

 

What does your spouse/partner/friend/child do (or does not do!) that drives you nuts?

Vitamins

It seems that as soon as I stopped pumping (3 weeks ago) something changed in me.

I don’t know if it was the bit of guilt for stopping, or that I missed it (I certainly hated pumping… but did feel like I was missing out on the nursing… maybe? Though I hated that as it was painful too)… but I feel okay with the thought of another child now. I mean, before the thought terrified me and I wanted to avoid at all costs. But I would be more accepting to the idea now. And I think it is because I stopped pumping all of the stress of that is gone and I feel like I could handle more.

But then I think about it again, and could I really handle THAT much more? Everything from the first time ON TOP of a toddler? I see people do it all the time, but I have no idea how!! And those are the people that don’t have the stress of our journey.

And I feel like in my head I’m saying ‘The losses we will have won’t be as bad as before because we have Baby Bach now’ but I know that it won’t be true. Even with Baby Bach there will still be the pain, the fear, and worse, the limbo. Oh the limbo… will I not think about it as much because Baby Bach won’t let me? Does it even matter? My stomach is getting upset just thinking about all of the limbo that was and is to come if we decide to try for another child.

If we didn’t have this struggle to face, I know I would wait longer. But we do have this struggle. There will almost certainly be loss, multiple. Those are just the odds of the balanced translocation.

But is that a good enough reason to start?

And then I wonder who I am actually doing this for? Am I doing it for me? Is it for wanting Baby Bach to have someone to play with when he gets older? I feel like there is still guilt on my end if I don’t try to give him a sibling, but there shouldn’t be! He is loved! He is provided for. He has many friends already, even though he isn’t at the stage to care about it yet.

I don’t feel 100% ready. But will I ever?

So… in light of this new feeling (not 100% against another child) DH has started taking the huge vitamin regimen he started a few months before Baby Bach was conceived. Of course we have no idea if this made the difference last time or not. We will never know. But if there is a chance that it could cut down the loss and the heartache, then we will do it.

This does not mean we are actively trying. But it takes 3 months for the vitamins to affect the sperm, so we figure he should just start them as we discuss more in depth how we really feel about how we want our family to look and what we are willing to sacrifice for it. DH told me he does not want to sacrifice my sanity…. well… in that case we may just have to stick with 1. As you all know TTC = insanity. Especially in the IF/RPL shoes.

I hate infertility.

I hate recurrent pregnancy loss.

I hate Balanced Translocations.

Working Mom Guilt

As I contemplate my career situation, the potential of going from working 32 hours a week to 40 hours a week, albeit with a much shorter drive, I feel like a horrible mother.

I do like having a day off with my boy. I really do. But often times I have someone watch him for a little bit so I can do grocery shopping (which I won’t do alone with him again if I can help it after my produce got bathed in dish soap!) and I do end up stressed towards the end of the day waiting for DH to get home and help me with him. I’m not saying that I don’t want this day off with him, because I would love to keep it if I could, but I guess I’m saying that I think I would be okay to work this extra day for a better job.

And I feel all kinds of guilty for being okay with this.

Am I going to regret not spending these extra few hours a week with him when I get older? (Would I feel that anyway about it?) At some point he will be in school and will be gone during the day that day any way.

I feel awful. I really do. I feel like I am a terrible mother for even contemplating this, and I feel worse when I think I will be okay with it.

And I also want to cry when I think about not having that extra day… How can I love my boy so much and miss him at the thought of having a few less hours with him, yet at the same time feel okay with going back to 5 days a week?

I am a mess in my head right now.

Can I just win the lottery? Would that even help?

 

Some Background

When I was in college, my junior year, my life changed.

I was president of Hall Council which involved much of my time and energy through the week and a lot of weekends too! I was into what most students said was the hardest year of my degree. I had constant classes, study sessions and meetings which seemed to never end. I had just been dumped by a boyfriend who lived 5 hours away, so I really immersed myself and kept myself busy.

I didn’t take really great care of myself during this time (probably didn’t do a great job of it before either…) and between everything I had going on, I didn’t leave myself time to eat. One day in the middle of the craziness, just when I was about to meet a friend in the cafeteria, a dizziness just came over me while I was sitting at my desk. It was like an electricity/numbness running through my body. It scared the living daylights out of me. It came up again… in waves it seemed. I called for my roommate who went and got the RA. She called the RHD and they decided I should go to urgent care be seen.

My friend took me to the urgent care where the hooked me up on the (EVT?) machine to check my heart rhythm, and while I was in there, the episode happened again, so they transferred me to ER and I told my friend he could leave and I’d call him when I was done. So I was alone. Nurses kept asking me what I had eaten, and took blood. Blood work showed low sodium and I don’t remember what else. They kept asking me if I needed help and why I wasn’t eating and if I had a problem. I kept telling them no, that I was just super busy. I honestly don’t think I had a problem, people always whispered about me as if I did because I was always really skinny, which I think was more of a result of being super super picky and not always having a lot of food at home.

They sent me home with a referral to the cardiologist. The cardiologist said that I was fine, it looked like I was just having a panic attack.

Unfortunately these episodes of panic continued. I would be in class and feel something off and just stand up and leave because I thought I was going to die. I stepped down from hall council. I stopped being able to drive myself places and I stopped going out and doing things I once looked forward to. I eventually called my aunt crying to come home, and that night she sent my uncle up to pick me up and bring me home. I had become so afraid of everything.

I finished the semester somehow. I didn’t do great. But I didn’t go to class much because I was so terrified to leave, and what if i died in class? I even walked out in the middle of an exam once! The next semester I tried to return, but I couldn’t even make it to my first class. And in a very difficult decision, I knew I couldn’t stay. I dropped my classes and moved back home. I did take 2 or 3 online classes, but nothing pertaining to my degree.

The anxiety was so crippling. It wasn’t just a stress or thought or feeling. It crippled me. I couldn’t leave the house. I refused to drive, what if I died while driving and hit someone else and hurt or killed them? The panic when I did try to go somewhere, even to a friend’s house made it not even worth it. I would have to have someone pick me up.

Of course, none of it was real. I wasn’t dying. And I knew it in my head, it was logical. But feeling it? I couldn’t calm my mind. I was agoraphobic. Afraid of everything.

I would cry. I knew I would never get married, who would want to marry someone like this? And how would I even meet anyone? I would never have the life I always dreamed of.

After summer I knew I had to return to school, I had already signed an apartment lease. I had to think to myself: So what if I die? Is it worse than this? Is being here going to magically stop it? So I went. But I wasn’t really much better. I called my grandpa crying one night, and he had no idea what to do. I went to class some, but not much. I still avoided doing the fun things I wanted to do, well, the old me wanted to do.

I had so many tests and doctors visits and ER trips during this time. Always diagnosed with Panic Disorder and put on one anti-anxiety/depressant or another. Panic attacks can do the worst things to our bodies, and it is all so real, even if our head is making us do it. I went to a student therapist at college and she used Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) with me, and it really did do wonders. I also got a puppy during that time, and him relying on me to take care of him, and him needing me, made me feel better about myself. I had to get up and go out. I had to take care of him. I don’t know which one helped more, but I am so grateful for both.

 

That was 10 years ago now.

After that year, I really started to improve.

I went to class, I did well. I got a job. I met a boy. Okay… maybe a few. But I met THE boy. I graduated, got a career, a house, married and by some miracle I am a mom. But I’ve never been the same carefree person I was before. I don’t think I will ever be the same.

10 years…. But I still feel the panic sometimes, not often. I find myself calling my husband and he has to talk me through it. I still think I am going to pass out and die sometimes. This last week I have felt it come up a lot more. I need to start deep breathing while I am driving. Tears in my eyes. And I feel like something is wrong with me and I am going to die. This morning I thought I couldn’t breathe on my way in to work, I thought my chest hurt and I was going to pass out, though I could still breathe… I thought it wasn’t right, I don’t know how to explain it. But the brain and logic can’t stop the panic when it starts. Of course I can breathe, and I am okay, I mean, I’m still here typing this.

But I wouldn’t wish the horror of panic attacks and the never ending anxiety it brings on anyone.

I still miss me from 10 years ago. I wish I could be her again sometimes. But I guess she would have turned into someone different. And she grew up to have a different life. And I’m glad for the people in my life right now. So maybe this is just what had to happen.

But I wish I could shake this. For good.