A Retraction of Sorts

Last Friday, I posted and subsequently un-posted about working moms.  I had been wanting to write a post about working moms for a while, but I just couldn't find the words.  After writing and publishing last Friday, I realized that I still hadn't found the right words.  I wasn't ashamed of what I'd written, but I realized that it wasn't what I wanted to say.

My best, dearest friend, who is a SAHM, texted me regarding the post, and that's what made me think. We started talking back and forth and I realized something: SAHM, working mom, it doesn't matter.  We feel the need to defend what we do, be it working or staying home.  And as my conversation with her went on, I came to that conclusion.  There is no rank or betterness to one way or the other, yet because of the judgement and strong opinions of others, we always feel the need to defend what we do.  When I stayed home with D before going back to work, Sparky would come home and I'd give him a laundry list of what I did around the house that day.  He didn't ask, but I felt the need to PROVE that I had done something, defend my staying at home.

I realize that some of my defensiveness is part of my personality.  Because I constantly feel the need to be the best at everything and feel that everyone is looking to me to be the best, I get defensive when I feel that I may not be doing something exactly right.  I guess, in this case, the "not doing something exactly right" would be staying home with my son.  And who's "right" is that?  I'm not sure it's mine, or D's, or Sparky's.

Stirrup Queens wrote a post this week about everything being "too loud." I could not agree more.  While I love Pinterest and Instagram and Facebook, for women like me who want to be everything to everyone, they are belittling reminders of what I'm not.  I love my Christmas decor until I see what so-and-so made out of empty bottles and epsom salt.  I'm happy with my crockpot dinners until so-and-so reveals that she's eating clean and shopping only organic (with a picture at a farmer's market).  I think D's nursery/outfit/younameit is perfect until so-and-so's son is wearing a personalized Christmas outfit sewn by Coco Chanel herself.  You get the point.  It's not greed or jealousy that I feel, but a feeling that makes me want to crawl back into bed, yet I know that I shouldn't be in bed, I should be crafting a nativity out of popsicle sticks and cotton balls.   I thought that turning 30 meant I wouldn't care what people thought about me; turns out, turning 30 just means that now I care what people think about my son, too.  (if you know me in real life, you're not surprised that I don't let D wear the same thing to school, ever).  I'm not sure men feel this kind of pressure, at least I know Sparky doesn't. Is this just my personality, or do others feel this too?

How do we turn down the volume?

Being a mom--no matter what kind--is hard stuff. Like, the hardest thing I've done in my life.  We all have our little shoulder devils that whisper in our ears and tell us we're not good enough because of (fill in the blank...).  We all feel the need to justify or defend ourselves.  If we stopped looking to other people's "rights" and just found our own, maybe this shoulder devil would go away, or at least become a quiet whisper, not a roaring growl.

A Day In the Life...

I just read a wonderful post from Our Griswold about her life as a working momma of twins.  I don't want to link it because I can't remember if she's private or not!  So I thought I'd take a moment to reflect on my life as a working momma.  When I'm old and senile, I want to remember what it was like to be young and feel like you could take on the world :)

I start the day around 4:45 am. I roll groaningly jump out of bed with the first sound of my alarm.  Sparks continues to be amazed--even after 6 years of marriage--that I have never "snoozed" in my life.  I mentioned the other day that I don't even know how to snooze on the iPhone.  Shower, wash hair (well, every other day) and I mention washing hair because washing, prepping, and drying crazy curly hair (c-c-c-curly!) is a task in and of itself.  5:15, coffee pot beeps, big cup of coffee, get ready.  In kitchen by 5:55. Put away clean dishes, do a load of laundry and/or unload dishwasher, shove a bowl of oatmeal down my throat, feed dog, give dog medicine.

At 6:25, I'm upstairs in D's nursery, singing him the "rise and shine" song and waking up my lil muffin.  I HATE waking him up :( the only thing that makes it better is the huge smile I get when he rolls over.  Get D dressed, nurse D, get myself dressed, wash D's face (you would think I was killing him when I wash his face). Put D in carseat, take D out of carseat to change poopy diaper.  seriously, it's like carseat = poop time!  Get bottles/D's lunch out of fridge, pack D's bag, give puppy her treat, pack car, pack D. Out the door by 6:55.

Drop D off at "school," talk to D's teacher about how crazy I am that I packed him a tiny little container of applesauce as his treat for eating his carrots/corn/potatoes (freshly made, of course), give D a kiss, off to work.

Work, pump, work, pump, work, 7:30-2.  Pick D up (yay! I love this part! He holds his hands up to me and smiles!).  D nap, 2:30-3:30, on a good day.  During this time, I run around like a crazy woman washing bottles, washing pump parts, washing tupperware.  I make D's bottles and lunch for the next day, make my lunch, make coffee, and usually get maybe a load of laundry in or a batch of baby food made or dinner prepped before nap time is over.  I devote 3:30-bedtime to playing with D.  Hopefully with the cooler weather coming I'll be able to start running again, with D of course. That's the one thing I've given up to make life work, and I miss it like crazy. Sparky gets home around 5:45 and I usually hand D over to him for daddy play or swim time, before and after D's dinner.

6:00--dinner time for D (chicken, veggie, fruit for dessert), followed by 15 minutes of Baby First TV (love this channel).  During that 15 minutes, Sparks sits with D and I clean up the kitchen and do some dinner prep.  6:45, bath time, book, boob, bed. And I'm downstairs by 7:20.  Cook dinner (or Sparks cooks), eat dinner, do grad school work or grade papers until bedtime at 10, or whenever I pass out on the couch.  And then we're up at 4:45 to start all over again.  Thank goodness D sleeps from 7:20-6:20 or I don't know how I'd get anything done.  I KNOW I am sooo blessed to have that.

This weekend, I'm leaving D for the first time! My future cousin-in-law's bachelorette party is in DC this weekend, and I'm going.  I'm still going strong with the breastfeeding, so my trusty pump will make its way there with me and hopefully I won't notice too much difference in my supply when I get home if I skip a pumping or two.  My goal is to EBF until early November and then wean D to just a morning/night feeding. Our cousin's wedding is in November and we'll be away from baby for 4 days and it's not logical that I can pump every feeding during that 4 days.  I LOVE bf'ing and I'll be sad to wean D, but I know that if we do truly want to start TTC again, I should at least start weaning him.  More on that another time :)

And of course, no post is complete without a picture of my almost-crawler.

You can't really tell, but his cold was in full swing in this picture

Cockroach-0; JB's butt-1

Yesterday was Sparky's 30th birthday.  We have a tradition where we make each other breakfast our birthday mornings, so I got up early to make Sparks pressed breakfast burritos (amazing! basically a breakfast burrito put into a panini press: think crunchy, gooey goodness).  I saw a little cockroach when I walked into the kitchen.  Now, here in My Really Big State in the South, cockroaches are usually not little, so this one was little, about 2-3 inches max.  I dutifully got the heavy duty bugspray and sprayed the crap out of the thing.  But he didn't die.  So I sprayed more. And apparently this made the horrid little thing go bat sh*t crazy.  I was afraid he'd run away and not die, so I thought, well, I will just step on him.

Bad idea.

I was wearing slippers but forgot that I had just doused the tile in bugspray.  Out my legs go from underneath me and I land smack dab on my butt, bugspray now covering my whole right leg and cockroach guts covering my whole slipper.  And you know what I kept thinking? Please just let my water break.  No such luck. Not even a darn contraction after all that. 

Sparky went on to have a fabulous breakfast and birthday.  I went on to have a slight backache, and other than the cockroach, we are all ok :)  Have a fabulous Friday!

So that's what "Labor and Delivery" is like

Well Mr. Daniel and I had quite the interesting day yesterday.  "We" (can he be considered a we with me yet?) had yesterday off for MLK day.  Woke up with Sparky, got an early start to the day and then...a little gush down there. After our birthing class on Saturday, I really know what to look for in terms of labor signs.  The "gush" didn't smell like pee, didn't look like it either, but it was only a little and then stopped so I just went on with my day.  Then the pelvic pressure increased and I had an excruciating (read: pain enough to make me nauseous) around my right rib through my back.  I am TRYING not to freak out about things, but I thought the pain was probably enough to at least call my nurse.

After a car wash, a pedicure, and grocery shopping, my nurse called me back and asked me to come in for some bloodwork as sometimes that kind of pain can be linked to the liver.  Thank goodness my dr/hospital is only 15 minutes from my house.  Upon seeing my wonderful nurse, I told her about the fluid and about the pressure and about the contractions I was sure I'd had the day before--and they were actual contractions, according to the nurse.  Dr. N. sent me immediately to Labor and Delivery.  When the doctor tells you to do something, you do it.  I had not wanted to end up here until I was actually in labor...I felt like an intruder, or an overreacting momma, neither of which I really was given my doctor's strict orders to go down there.

Sparky left work and met me there; by the time he got there, I was hooked up to the baby heart monitor and the contraction monitor.  The nurse was excellent, and Sparks was quite entertaining with rubber gloves and peeking through the curtains to see the new baby next door (there were no private rooms at the time). 

After about two hours and a BPP (biophysical profile) of Daniel, we were released.  The fluid was not amniotic fluid and the bloodwork from the liver test should be back today.  Daniel's heart was great and he was moving like a crazy boy, and while I was having tiny little minor contractions, they were incredibly sporadic and nothing to worry about.  We did get to see our boy on the ultrasound, though, something we haven't seen in 20 weeks.  He is freakin adorable.  He was grabbing both feet with one hand, wedging all those fingers and toes into my left side. He's head down and was sucking when we got to see his face.  We can't really tell what his nose looks like, but I think it looks like his dad's. 

The nurse told me never, ever to wait to come in with fluid.  That made me feel better, a little less chagrined for being there before I was in actual labor.  I couldn't have imagined having baby boy yesterday.  The car seat isn't even in my car yet!  After that, both Sparky's car and my car will have car seats by Friday.

It was an interesting day, to say the least.  Seeing the baby and knowing he's ok made everything worth it...even the bills I know will be in the mail!

And to DD, I'm so sorry if you read this before I had a chance to talk to you :( It was too late (and I was too exhausted) to call you last night and too early this morning.

Parenting "Decisions" and Lists

I am an avid (read: obsessive) list maker.  I think I've even made a list of lists to make.  I love crossing things off lists probably more than I like making lists.  I have a daily to-do list, a bi-weekly budget/money list, an on-going grocery list, a list of dinners for the week.  And those lists are just my usual lists.  Right now, I also have a hospital bag list and a to-do-before-baby-almost-gets-here list. 

The hospital bag is an interesting thing.  I can't quite pack it yet because I want to wear my slippers and pj pants between now and the time I go to the hospital.  I obviously can't pack my makeup either for this reason.  So, when/if I go into labor, will I be scrambling around my house, yelling at Sparky to find my slippers while I pack my travel makeup bag? And, if I go into labor at work (as one of my students asked yesterday), does the hospital bag get rendered useless?  AND truthfully, labor takes a while, so even if I do go into labor at home, won't I still have time to put my makeup bag together?  What is the other option--travel sized everything in a separate makeup bag? That sounds rather expensive and unnecessary.  (YES, I will be one of those women with makeup on in the delivery room--if you know me in real life, you know this is true).

About that to-do-before-baby-almost-gets-here list...I don't know when Daniel will make his appearance.  My goal is to have everything done by the week of Jan. 21. So what does this list encompass? Oil change, windshield wipers, carwash, boil pacifiers--is that what you do to sterilize them?--wash bottles and their million little parts, buy changing pad, buy pads and lotion for boobs, buy breast pump stuff, talk to boss about maternity leave again, lesson plans for maternity leave, clean house, get wax, get hair done, buy cheap underwear for hospital bag, finish hospital bag, oh and install carseat base in my car.  Seriously, this list makes me tired. And the kicker--how much of this is really necessary?! 

Being this far in pregnancy is interesting.  I finished my first baby book (Happiest Baby on the Block) and I'm reading What to Expect the First Year.  Thanks to Kathleen @ Boring Blog, I just purchased another book on my N.ook to read on the treadmill.  I feel like parenting is a combination of other people's good ideas with what works for your child, and this is the approach I'm taking.  There are a few things that I will be adamant about (like no pacifier at the hospital), but other than that, I feel like I just want a whole bunch of ideas, tips, and strategies in my head that I can mentally flip through once we meet Daniel.  I was stressing out for a while about all of this, but I feel much calmer now.  Sparky and I are still on the bunny slopes of parenting, so I'm sure we will look back on some of our attempts at scheduling/baby calming and laugh (or cry), but I think this approach will work for us at first.

Speaking of baby calming, Sparky and I are babysitting our niece this Friday!  We gave SIL and BIL a night of babysitting and a restaurant giftcard for Christmas; Sparky is a little nervous, but I think we'll be fine.  Trial by fire I guess!  She's 14 weeks old this week, and my MIL is only five minutes away if things get way out control, but I don't foresee that happening. 

I've learned over the past weeks that Sparky will be the more, well, cautious parent.  We set up our baby swing and turned it on and he immediately said "it's too fast! we can't put the baby in that! he'll fly out!"  Oh man.  And so it begins...

An Omen

I don't really belive in omens, persay, but when I visited Greece in college, we went to the site of the Delphic oracle. I think the whole idea of someone who can predict the future is so intriguing, but I'm not sure I'd necessarily want to know, even if I could find out.

Last night I attended my breasfeeding class.  This was my practice baby:


"You want me to eat drink from WHERE?!"  Caption courtesy of DD



Please caption this picture.

And please pray that this is not an omen of how my child will react to seeing me the first time. 

And for the record, mine was the only practice baby that looked like this.

Insanity

My job is crazy stressful right now and I don't think Baby Boy likes it. I'm trying to find something to hold on to amidst the calm.  I feel like every time I figure out one problem, another one pops up, just like whack-a-mole.  I'm trying to find peace in baby, in knowing that he's there.  I like to sit in his nursery and just think.  Here's a picture of the wall the crib will be on in the nursery.  The painting isn't done yet and his monogram isn't up, but this is a nice, happy thing for me to think about when I can't find much else.


Crib wall (blue is not so bright in person)

NEW PHOTO! My dad started the other walls today.  He's just amazing in the work he can do :) So blessed to have a contractor as my dad!



all blue walls would be too dark, so the other walls will be neutral with blue stripes.

 

Alive and "kicking"

Hi all

Most importantly, if you have a sec, send some thoughts and prayers to Belle @ Scrambled Eggs. She just started cramping and bleeding and she was supposed to have her first ultrasound tomorrow to confirm her great beta rise last week.  My heart is aching for her right now.

Sorry for the absence but I'm crazy busy!  DH left for Finland yesterday and I managed to only have ONE tiny meltdown before he left.  He was informed yesterday morning that his i.Phone is not equipped to work internationally. Cue panic from pregnant wife who bursts into tears afraid something will happen to her and/or baby and she will not be able to reach said husband.  After a few emails mentioning his "anxious pregnant wife," we were assured there would be a cell phone waiting for him at his office in Finland. And we face-timed three times today.  So really, no cause for concern until...

I was alone, in a huge house, with only my dog and my overactive mind to keep my company.  I went grocery shopping, did some grad work, and then stood in the kitchen for an hour prepping fruit (it's way cheaper to buy non-cut-up-stuff and cut it myself) and lunches for the week.  And I got cramps. And a backache.  So, Dr. Google told me that menstrual-like cramps and backache can be a sign of pre-term labor. Lovely. Now, let me be clear--these were NOT braxton hicks nor real contractions at all, just a dull ache.  Well, without DH to calm me down, I started going to that Dark Place in my mind that convinces me something bad will happen when DH isn't home.  Mind reels: nursery isn't started. I don't have any baby stuff. What is pre-term labor? What goes in a hospital bag? Yes, we have established that I am a crazy woman.

I did what any normal prego would do: I ate ice cream and waited for Baby Boy to kick. Which he did, a lot.  He's fine and happy in there and after multiple ounces of water and some relaxation, I was fine.  Until 1 am...

When I woke up because the dog was making noise.  I went to the front of the house to see if she was ok and what do I find but a HUGE cockroach.  I mean HUGE, like gigantic Honey-We've-Blown-Up-the-Kids huge. I proceeded to get the bug spray which I know I'm not supposed to use but it doesn't smell and I washed my hands really well.  Cockroach, 0; JB, 1.  And then I went into the kitchen...

To find cockroach's slightly younger brother on my coffee maker. I spray more bug spray and get more grossed out that this thing is on my coffee maker. Then, I soap down the coffee maker and finally go back to bed but of course, I can't fall asleep for an hour. Cockroach, 1, JB, 1.

I actually woke up refreshed thanks to the A.mbien prescribed last week by Dr. N. (usually I'm against meds but OH MAN when I hadn't slept for a week, I would've taken anything to help).  I ran the coffee maker sans coffee just in case there could've been bug spray in the water I had prepared the night before.  Baby Boy is movin' and shakin' today so I'm assuming that he's fine in there, despite the 1 am cockroach party. 

I may not have a ton of time in the next two weeks to be here, but I am still reading and commenting. I have three grad school papers to start and finish between now and next Sunday, so most free time will be spent doing that, minus a quick trip to Austin this weekend for my aunt's 60th birthday and a visit to DH's grandma. 

Happy November :) and for those of you with cold weather, PLEASE send some this way! I'm sick of 80 degrees and sweating.

The BLUE details

I apologize in advance for this long post, but I have a lot to say :)

If you didn't see my blue picture from last night, we found out yesterday that we are expecting a little baby boy in February, and we couldn't be more excited.  After losing Malachi in December, I thought for sure that we had "used" our boy chance, but God is good.  There is a part of me that feels proud to be carrying a boy, as if I've done something great (ha, I didn't do anything actually). I am currently reading the Game of Thrones series in which it is the duty of the queen (one of the only duties) to produce a boy.  Now, I'm not saying this is my duty at all, but I like to think that our little boy will carry on our name, and that's a pretty cool feeling. Plus, I'll have to pay a lot less for a wedding one day. 

Ok on to the actually anatomy scan. I was a nervous wreck.  I think I felt baby move yesterday during class; it felt like someone had lightly drawn their finger across the back of my hand, but across the top of my tummy.  We got to Dr. N's office.  She doesn't actually do the anatomy scan--another company comes in and does it.  We waited for about 30 minutes during which I peed like five times and almost died of nervousness.  We finally got back there and the tech was horrible.  She was mean, listening to her Pandora OUT LOUD, and really not willing to answer any of our questions.  We wanted to know what each part was and if it was "normal," and she says to us "do you have a history of birth defects in your family?" I said no...WHY? She responded, "you just seem very concerned about it." Well, no shit Sherlock.  Isn't everyone concerned about it? I will be complaining about this woman today. (yes, I'm that girl)

I told the tech we wanted to know the gender immediately, which she didn't tell us.  Every time she flashed to the body, though, it was VERY obvious we had a boy.  He was showing that thing off!  Much to his daddy's pleasure, of course.  Baby Boy was CRAZY, moving everywhere, kicking, squirming, and generally blocking his face from our view.  At one point, he flipped from one side to the other!  I am not feeling all this yet, and I can't imagine having this little jumping bean in my belly.  So far, baby boy is just like his daddy--never able to sit still. 

As we got to the end of the scan, I asked the tech if everything looked good.  She said yes.  I asked about Down's Syndrome markers.  Anyone who reads the Internet (and cares) knows these markers--no nasal bone, issue with the heart chamber, shorter femur bone, etc.  I asked if she had determined any of these and she said, "you didn't get the genetic scanning? That's the only way to know." Bullshit. As we left the office, I asked DH if he was excited.  Of course, he was thrilled with the BOY, but he was worried that something was wrong and that she didn't tell us, or that she didn't take enough time to care.  He said he was hoping to know if baby had any issues and he didn't feel confident in the tech at all.  Well, this threw me into a tailspin.

As I ran my errands to prepare for our reveal, I called the nurse and left a message, asking if Dr. N. could look at the preliminary reports and get back to me.  And then the absolute panic hit.  I lost it, sobbing as if someone had died.  I called the nurse AGAIN and left a hysterical message, convinced that something was wrong with the baby and the tech didn't tell us.  I called DH hysterically saying the same thing.  I had lost all joy, partially because the tech was horrible.  My wonderful nurse L finally called back and said if something was wrong, the tech would've gotten the Dr.  She said the techs often say TOO much, so if she told us everything was fine, then most likely, everything is fine.  Dr. N. will review my preliminary report today and L will call me back.  I also believe that this was the Enemy's attack on my joy.  My greatest fear is that something will be wrong with my baby, and I believe that the Enemy preyed on that.  I began praying for peace, and sure enough, within about an hour of getting home, I was at peace. 

I will say that there is a part of me that is still nervous and worried, but not to the point of hysteria.  We have great crotch shots (I'll post one on Baby Boy's page later today), but because he was moving so much, his profile picture is just like one big forehead (clearly defined nasal bone, though ;-) ).  I go for my next check up on Sept. 25, and I may see if Dr. N. will do another scan--not a big one, just a peek--since this one was so horrible. 

If you've read this far, thanks :) The outpouring of LOVE and CONGRATS here has just been unbelievable!  Court, L, Elizabeth, and Mommy Someday are all in "waiting" situations right now, and I hope and pray that all of this situations end with good news.  I'm officially in blog stalker mode :)

More pics of gender reveal to follow!

Somewhere in the vicinity of the second trimester

Books are contradictory.  Today, I am 13 weeks. Does that mean I'm in the second trimester, or do I have to wait 3 more days, or one more week? Who knows.  I'm thankful to have made it this far.  13 weeks.  Wow.  Just wow. (side note: I hate the number 13.  Do you know there's no row 13 on airplanes? Or gate 13? interesting, huh?)

After my minor freak out/doctor reassurance visit on Monday, I've been a good girl.  No unnecessary worrying, no frantic calls to the nurse, no over analyzing symptoms.  I actually feel--GASP--fairly normal!  This scares me to some extent, but I think that's fairly common as one approaches the Second Tri.  I am EXHAUSTED at night; I thought this had gotten better but now it seems to have returned full swing.  After some serious growing pains Saturday and Sunday, I have a belly.  It's a pretty obvious belly.  When I wear my belly band, it's like HELLO prego belly.  Of course I start to think, is this too early? Do other people show this early, or maybe I was thin? (did I say I wasn't analyzing symptoms? Come on, you know me better than that!)  My workmates are just so sweet about everything.  I grew up in the school at which I now work, so I have a family here. 

Despite varying opinions, DH and I decided to announce on Fbook.  I know that there are a lot of people who will poo-poo this, but I wanted to do it.  I want to be happy and try to get over my anxiety and this was one step in doing so.  I'll post the pic below.  This does NOT mean my anxiety has gone away.  The thought of jinxing baby by announcing at 12 weeks definitely crossed my mind.  I thought that when I bought maternity clothes too.  So far, no jinxing.

I don't see Baby B for another 2 and a half weeks.  This makes me nervous.  That's a long time to just believe everything is ok.  I can't feel baby yet and as I'm feeling way more like myself, there's not a lot to remind me that baby is there.  I wonder if I will cave and go to Dr. N. just to hear a heartbeat...I promised DH I would wait and not be "That Obsessive Girl," but that's easier said than done.  I'm sure I'll petition my SIL to use her doppler, though not finding the heartbeat on an at home doppler because baby is small freaks me out too.  I'm hoping I'll be so busy with work, etc that the next 2 weeks will fly by.  Ironically, that means I'm wishing for my 29th birthday to get her just as quickly, since that's the day of my appointment.  (cue horrible thought of getting bad news on my birthday while DH is overseas).

So there's all my crazy for 13 weeks, but despite my crazy, I am in love with this peach-sized baby.  I think I'm finally letting myself bond.  And I'm really glad the baby's body is now growing to match its over-sized head.

Silly, I know. Turned out dark here, sorry.

Ch-ch-cha-changes...

Hi bloggy friends! It's the end of the school year, we put a contract on a house last week, my students' AP test is tomorrow, we have an out-of-town wedding this weekend, AND most importantly, my sis-in-law finds out the gender of her Little One next Thursday--life is crazy right now! 

I will blog more about our hopeful new home after the inspection is complete tomorrow. 

Feeling incredibly positive about this month and life in general right now! Tentative house closing June 5, five year anniversary and weekend trip June 9, and maybe some good baby news after that. Really, the baby news is the only variable I can't control, and we all know I hate not being in control of things. 

So until then, good luck and many thoughts and prayers for all of my blog friends who are waiting for their pink lines this month and to those who just got their BFPs and are hoping and praying for 8 more good months. 

This is one of my friend's cats. He sleeps in my purse--and only my purse--every time I visit.  He's quite the gay little cat.  Not that there's anything wrong with that (Seinfeld reference anyone?)



"It wouldn't be make believe if you believed in me"

I did it.  I "unfroze" my FF account after about 2 weeks.  Oh why oh why did I do this? Why do I continually engage in self-deprecating behavior?  I can tell you why I did it:

• I'm currently 39 days into CFH (cycle from hell) and my usual cycles are 32 days.
• I got a few positive OPKs almost 2 weeks ago; HOWEVER I don't know if I actually ovulated as I have no idea what's going on with my body.  Most important thing to note: my doctor said I probably wouldn't even ovulate for 2 more weeks.
• I  like clicking boxes. I inputted all my "symptoms" and all my OPK info just to see if FF would give me an ovulation day. Which it did.  So that means....drum roll please....yup, I'm in the 2 week wait.  Or I would be in the 2WW if I actually did ovulate.  AND of course, 2 weeks would be over on Sunday--Mother's Day--a sure sign from God. (she says rolling her eyes)
• I obsessively symptom spot. Like, obsessively.  I don't even know if they're symptoms but I can turn anything in to a symptom.  Typing too fast? Must be a symptom.  Greek yogurt tasted funny? Yup, I'm pregnant.  Hair looks oddly blonde? Start planning my baby shower!
• Possible real symptoms? Crampy, backache, exhausted, and yes, my Greek yogurt did actually taste funny yesterday.  ALL of these things are usually associated with AF, and I know that.  With both my chem. pregnancy and my real pregnancy, my first symptom was sore boobs.  Do I have those? Nope, not at all. I punch them just to make sure, and in my head I know that this most likely means there's NWH I'm prego.



Photo from Denver Public Library
I feel as crazy as  Blanche in Streetcar Named Desire



Please don't judge to harshly. In fact, if there is someone, anyone out there who does this same thing, I would love some reassurance that I haven't gone off the deep end.