Bored

I know I haven't written much. Life's been busy. I smell like spit up and baby formula and unwashed hair. I'm sleeping four hours a night and putting together an entire orientation and training program at work. And I just went back on the road two weeks ago. I've missed work. I like teaching. I like being a paramedic. I love my son.

But I am so tired all the time.

Other things have been stressful. There is much infighting and arguing and silliness going on, not between my husband and I(though, admittedly, we've found ourselves bringing some of it home) but between colleaues. Things we've been caught up in, things we've taken much too seriously. I have no use for drama, or BS, or stupidity. It's too much like religion; people take what they believe and what works for them too seriously, and criticize everyone else. Instead of recognizing and appreciating people's differences and choices, we demand that everything must be one way, without searching for a compromise. And that means that there are hurt feelings and hurt people, with long time friendships split and people divided into little factions. And I simply have no use for that.

I've found motherhood to be lonely. Part of it is that I don't know a lot of women my age. Many of the mothers I know in my area had children early and are well out of the infant stage. The women I know from college and graduate school are, like me, pushing 30, but many of them have yet to marry, and the ones who are married are waiting a quite a bit longer for kids. And I am afraid that, as time goes by, we will have less and less in common. Mostly, though, there is just nobody around me that I have anything in common with, and even though my husband tells me to find activities where I can meet people, I can't find much I'm interested in. This isn't exactly an exciting, family friendly town where I live.

Am I complaining? Not really. I just wish there was Gymboree and Mommy and Me and baby swim lessons in this area. I wish that the churches around here were not so quick to subtly condemn working moms and offered things in the evenings, instead of Tuesday mornings. I wish that my decision to keep my baby with me in church didn't relegate me to the back pew. I wish...maybe all I wish is that we were all not so quick to condemn.

My little boy laughed his first laugh today
and the whole world stood still to listen

Joshua Robert
born May 26, 2010 at 8:53 am
weighing 7 lbs 11 oz and 20 inches long

Amazed

Sometimes, we don't always get what we want. I found out the last few weeks that my pregnancy had become even more complicated, with my child growing at an unusual speed. While the diabetes tests came back negative, it seems I do have a level of glucose intolerance, and my son was simply receiving too much sugar and growing too fast. A big baby is one thing. A big baby from a glucose intolerant mom is another, because the risk of hypoglycemia and brain damage during a natural delivery is quite high. Along with the risk of shoulders and abdomens getting stuck. All this together has led us to choose to have a scheduled c-section on May 26th.

I watched two c-sections when I was doing my operating room clinical time, and the first thing I vowed is that I would never, ever have one. The second thing I said to my husband after telling him I was pregnant was that I would not even consider a c-section. I thought they looked brutal and horrible when I was present for the two I saw, though both of those were medically necessary and, I had to admit, produced healthy, screaming, adorable babies along with healthy-but-tired moms.

And here I am, having one with my first child, which means every future child will also be born this way. Even if I found a doctor willing to do a VBAC, chances are over 70% that I will be a full blown gestational diabetic next time, requiring a c-section anyway. My OB asked how many children we plan on, and I answered truthfully--I have no idea. Maybe a lot, but I'm close to 29 years old. My body and hormones don't work right anyway, and I would not have conceived Joshua if I hadn't been taking Clomid. I would not have kept my precious baby had it not been for the weeks of progesterone supplements, even though it made me so sick. My days of fertility are rapidly drawing to a close--and maybe it's a blessing. Maybe it's not as bad as it sounds. Maybe, knowing I will need c-sections, it eliminates a difficult choice between using birth control that we don't really believe in and having multiple c-sections, putting my health and safety in jepoardy. It's not a choice we'll have to make. It's a choice my body will make for me, easing gradually into an early menopause.

So Joshua Robert will be born in the morning of May 26th, unless, of course, he chooses to grace us with his presence before then. As of yesterday at 37 weeks, my child is measuring 8 pounds with the shoulders of a linebacker. He also has a lot of hair on his head--we were able to see it waving in the enormous amounts of amniotic fluid.

Twelve days, and I will be holding my firstborn child...I still stand amazed.

Joshua

I've set up a website specifically for Joshua; this way I'm not trying to update a blog and facebook and all of that all at once. If you're interested, it's www.caringbridge.org/visit/saragruver

Housing woes

Frustration.

We have outgrown this apartment. We outgrew it a long time ago, and started looking for houses. We made a purchase offer on one, and it was accepted by the sellers, but it was also a short sale, meaning that their bank had to approve it. In the midst of all of this, the bank sold the mortgage to another bank, and the whole thing fell apart. We found a house we liked better that was closer to where we wanted to be, put an offer in after looking at it once, and then wated.
And waited.
And waited.

The mortgage company lost paperwork, needed more paperwork, and in general tied the whole process up for several months. They finally get everything they need, and set a closing date. For today.

We were thrilled to have it all done and over with. We acquired a golden retriever puppy two weeks ago(having put the deposit down when we were told we would absolutely be in the house by the first week of February) who isn't doing too well in the apartment and needs a yard to run in. We need more room. I especially wanted to move before I got too much larger and uncomfortable.

And then the realtor called today to tell us that the owner, in her will, left the house to 17 people. I did not know this was even a possibility but apparently it is. All 17 people have to sign the papers, and 3 of them haven't, so we're waiting. Indefinately.

Makes me want to bang my head against the wall...they said maybe next week we could tenatively reschedule a closing date.
Maybe.

More letters

This is going to be a love letter to my husband. If you're not interested in mushy, don't read it.

I love you.
2 years together and I still can't get enough of you. (Even though it was seven months into the relationship that you actually told me you wanted to date, and I suggested we just go ahead and get married, instead)
So many people say that they married their best friend. We actually did.

You are my everything. The last six and half months have not been easy. I didn't know I could feel so tired and sick all the time and still survive, but you've made it better--by working two jobs so I didn't feel pressured or have to work. By coming home, even when you're exhausted, and helping pick up the apartment or do dishes so I didn't feel so overwhelmed. Or by cooking dinner on the nights I feel so sick. And yesterday, when we found out that maybe I needed to rest a lot more and spend a lot less time on my feet, you took it upon yourself to find someplace for the puppy to go so I didn't have to worry about him, and then cooking a bunch of food before leaving for work so that I would have lunch and dinner and dessert already prepared for today. I love how you instinctively know that I need to cuddle or just have a hug. I love how we've never had a fight, how you make it a point to sit down and talk something through before it escalates into an argument. I love that you've never once raised your voice to me, even when I smacked you in my sleep one night. I love the flowers and the chocolates that you send me, and the seventy some text messages a day when we're apart just telling me that I mean everything to you. I love that you are sensitive to my needs and desires, even if it's something as silly as craving watermelon at eleven pm, you happily go get it and cut it up for me. I love how my heart still skips a beat when you walk into the room, and I love the look in your eyes that tells me you still adore me.

I know you think that a lot of what you do goes unnoticed. I hope you know it doesn't, and that I appreciate the little things as much as the big things. Even if I don't feel up to telling you how much I love you and how grateful I am for everything, even when I'm so tired that it slips my mind, I hope you know.

If not, you do now. And mostly...I can't wait to see you again.