Prince/Princess

We officially have a date to count down to.. It's really a matter of days now until we (hopefully!!) get to see the sex of the baby! That being said, I've already spent the last few months trying to decide (because I keep being asked!) if I would be happier one way or the other...

I want a girl because I love the girl names we have picked out, more then the boy names.

I want a boy because I believe I am married to the most well-rounded male..besides being so handsome he is hard working, respectful, a wonderful care taker, great in the kitchen, and mature (when he needs to be)..and I am completely confident that he will raise a son to be all of the above. A son that every girl will adore, and every mother would be happy to have her daughter date.

I want a girl because no matter how hard Old Navy tries, girl clothes are so much more exciting then boy clothes!

I want a boy because most of our friends who have kids, have boys, and they are spectacular.

I want a girl because all the pink candles at Bath and Bodyworks smell better then the blue ones.

I want a boy because as one wise friend pointed out, it'd be my only chance to have a virgin penis inside of me. (I'm still laughing/thrilled at that revelation)

I want a girl because they are less likely to pee all over you during diaper changes. She might pee, but it goes all over the change table vs. all over your face.

I want a boy because being a girl is so ridiculously hard, and painful.

I want a girl because genetically, she'll be more excited to have her nails painted! That's a scientific fact, right?

I want a boy, because that way I'll still be the only princess.

I want a girl because then, we can gang up on daddy!

I want a boy because surely 20 years from now, February 14th will roll around, and he'll casually remind me that he will never love a lady as much as he loves me.

I want a girl because I often feel like it's my calling to raise a female to be all that I wasn't in high school, and all that I am now.

I want a boy, because if we were to adopt a little girl one day later, she'd have a big brother..and stereotypically that just always seemed like it would have been nice. A big brother to have looked out for me...and bring hunky friends around all the time.

I want a girl because it'll finally force me to learn how to French braid.

I want a boy because I'm scared that I'll pass along my Endometriosis. The look of absolute helplessness on my dads face when he's been stuck in the bathroom with me, is something I never want to experience.

I want a girl because the children's library I have been collecting over time, turns out to be quite girly overall. Not that a little boy shouldn't enjoy Disney Princesses.

Ooh! I want a boy, because then I could be his escort down the aisle at his wedding! Then again, that daddy daughter walk was perhaps a few of the most favorite minutes in my life...and something my husband totally deserves.

I want a girl because while she may walk down the aisle with her daddy, I'll get to graduation dress shop with her, and prom dress shop with her, and wedding dress shop with her! That seems fair.

I want whichever gender is less likely to inherit my obvious need for orthodontic work growing up. And whichever gender will be less interested in playing hockey as they grow up. I will not be a hockey mom. You can join the hockey team when you are old enough to drive yourself to 5am practices in an icebox.

So far six out of ten of the 'old wives tale' tests that I did say its a girl, however a girlfriend of mine got the same 'test' results, and then their ultrasound said boy!

Of course the very bottom line, is that I want a healthy baby. And a happy baby. And a baby that loves to nap.

It's honestly remarkably exciting, knowing that we're going to find out so soon. I really do understand the reasons behind some parent's decisions to not know the sex before the birth, but neither of us even questioned our wanting to know as soon as possible. For me, I think that I will feel as though I know the baby that much better. And I want to name it, and then never say 'it' again! And when I'm feeling extra sick, or extra cranky, or extra fat, being able to finally pick out crib linens and a little baby bathing suit will be SUCH a spectacular distraction!

If growing a child didn't magically leave my body so constantly exhausted, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be able to sleep for the next week and a half. My heart is feeling very reminiscent of my 8 year old self, waiting in my bed with my little siblings, counting down the minutes until we can run downstairs on Christmas morning. Either way, its going to be the shiniest present ever. 

Pregnant Princess!

I've been drafting my first official 'pregnant blog' since the day that little plus sign slowly faded onto the pee stick two months ago. Now that we have announced our joy to the world (because Facebook = the world), and I am free to 'talk' about it, it's actually really hard to decide which of my iPhone notes to publish. I've been rereading and rewriting for the last week, but in this moment, laying in bed wishing I was asleep instead, I've decided to just be honest for a few minutes. And maybe a little blunt. And probably a lot sarcastic. 

There is a lot of pressure put on women, in regards to babies. Society puts pressure on us, and we throw a lot of pressure on each other and ourselves. 

First it's the pressure to get pregnant. Society (or Jesus) says that its our duty as a female, with our glorious female organs, to reproduce. That's why we were created in the first place, so that we could recreate! If you're a woman, and you don't have kids, the human race WILL end, and it will all be your fault! Just ask your grandparents (who's patience for great grandchildren is clearly growing thin).

It's an archaic pressure. Is archaic the word? 

(I googled. I'm right. )

It's an archaic pressure. And as advanced as we have come as a society, that particular pressure lingers. It used to be the woman's ONLY job..grow up, get married, make a family. Now women are expected to create a career for themselves (because that's what we've fought for), AND procreate. The women who come to the conclusion that they in fact don't want children, are looked down on. We label them as job-obsessed, cold-hearted baby haters. We pity them, because they'll never know the fulfilling magic that is motherhood. 

I can admit that that's part of the reason I decided to get pregnant, not wanting to miss out on that apparent magic. 

And it is. It is the most remarkable kind of magic. 

As women we have been lead to feel as though pregnancy is a right of passage. We had to fight for the right to vote, fight for the right to share professions with men, fight for our right to get paid what men are paid, but pregnancy is the one right that's just been handed to us. So how dare you not take advantage!

I also felt as though, pregnancy is the reason we suffer monthly, for years.. so I'd be stupid not to take advantage. Not getting pregnant would be a complete waste of the (estimated) 120 weeks-worth of tampons, and maxi pads, and sleeps around heating pads, and junk food binges, and break outs, and roid-rage mood swings, and bloating, and Advil, and nausea! Especially for me, someone with a disease that made that week 100xs worse every month. A disease that made that week last all month, every month. The only reason we have a uterus is so there's a place for a baby to grow! So before having that little fucker of an organ and all its friends surgically removed, I deserve to reap that one benefit. Or else, what a waste. 

Endometriosis has of course served as a bonus pressure when it came to deciding whether or not to get pregnant. Almost a year ago, I was remarkably sick, again. The positive results that I got from my first surgery only lasted about 6 months, and it was very obvious that the disease was coming back with a severe vengeance. I have always been confident in my decision to have a full hysterectomy (the only Endo cure), but as I continued to get worse, and then spend the spring getting fat with bleeding cysts, my significant other (who was just my boyfriend at the time) and I found ourselves with very little time to make the baby decision. Did I have the major surgery now, and move on with our lives, or did we want a baby, NOW? 

We chose now. Well, we chose the possibility of now. I had another laparoscopy to tidy things up, put a band-aid of sorts of things, so we would have some time to try. Until we got pregnant, and saw my OB/surgeon for the first prenatal appointment, we had no idea how slim our chances were. I had no idea how close I was to complete disappointment. Turns out, during my post-op follow up my doctor made the conscious decision not to discourage us from what we were hoping to do. He decided not to tell us just how bad things were, because he knew we'd gotten our hopes up. The look of complete shock when he rechecked the test results, and saw that I was in fact carrying a viable, and healthily-growing baby, made his little deception quite obvious. He's lucky things worked out the way they have. And we are so obviously lucky. 

And that's where the other heaping of pressure comes from. I am SO lucky, considering my medical history, to be pregnant at all, never mind how quickly it happened. And because of that luck, because I've been so blessed, there is an overwhelming pressure to be happy. I mean, I AM happy! I am thrilled, and so thankful! But there is a pressure to be happy all the time. There is a pressure to be thankful all the time. There is a pressure to glow! And that's the hardest pressure to come up against, because frankly, pregnancy is a pretty miserable ordeal. 

In the beginning, I felt amazing! I mean, I felt totally normal! No nausea, no pain, no barfing! I kept counting my blessing, and knocking on all wooden things. I'd read that sometimes women with Endometriosis don't suffer 'morning sickness' because their bodies have already dealt with huge hormone shifts, and I couldn't help but think that's what was happening to me. I'd already spent years feeling sick and miserable because of the disease, so of course I now deserved to be barf-free during this part of my life. But no one DESERVES morning sickness. Unless of course some female serial killer wound up getting pregnant in the midst of offing her latest victim. She would deserve morning sickness. In jail. 

Turns out though, the women who go through pregnancy after pregnancy without any sickness aren't anymore cosmically deserving, they're just lucky. And I used up all my luck just getting pregnant in the first place, remember?

You rarely hear, or read, or see women on talk shows complaining about pregnancy. It happens in movies sometimes, but only in a rom-com, make fun of it way. And that's because all of the pressure we've faced has in turn instilled a sense of guilt within us. What we have heard about, and read about, and seen on talk shows, is women who have struggled for years trying to get pregnant. Couples who have spent their life's savings on fertility treatments and rounds of IVF. Or women being killed by botched abortions, because where they live abortion is illegal, even though the only reason they're pregnant is because they were raped. By nature, women are incredibly empathetic creatures, and other women's struggles are what guilt us into keeping our mouths shut about how completely uncomfortable it can be to live inside a pregnant body. 

Despite my disease, and the mess that multiple surgeries has likely left behind, I got pregnant. And I got pregnant before the disappointment kicked in, before I had to spend any money in order to get pregnant, before the shame of not being able to provide my husband with a biological family kicked in. And I got pregnant because I wanted to, not because it was forced up on me. I wished on candles and stars and eyelashes for this. So I am told that I have no business complaining. 

It's tough though..the not complaining! There are days when it's harder to see the thankfulness through the barfy, uncomfy fog. But when I start to feel guilty, about feeling so miserable, I remind myself that there is one extra hurdle always in my way, that many pregnant women don't have to worry about jumping. 

I was so sure that if I knew I was pregnant, if I knew it was for such a good reason, the sickness would be way easier to deal with. If I knew that it was a gorgeous little baby making me so sick, there'd be no reason to get anxious every time I have to throw up. The way that knowing it was Endometriosis made it easier to cope with that illness, I assumed that knowing it was a magical baby would make this sickness easier too. But it's irresponsible (and stupid) to ever underestimate the Monster. 

I have gone back on my medication. And I don't feel ashamed saying that. I thought I might, I thought that I'd hate myself a little, for not providing this helpless baby with that ideal drug-free body to grow in. But it turns out, the more anxious I am, the more unhappy I am, the more dangerous it is for the baby. I always knew that it was safe to stay on Celexa while trying to get pregnant/while pregnant, but at the time I thought coming off of it was the right thing to do. I thought it was important to at least try for that ideal. Months later, of course I wish I'd never come off it in the first place..around week 5 my body completely freaked out, I stopped sleeping, I could barely breathe, I was so sick that I was wondering, 'why the hell did I do this to myself?!' But at least I can say I tried, I guess. 

I'm not on my full/original dose of Celexa, and Ativan is still a complete no-no, so there are moments where the panic chills/twitches wash over me. It's a little embarrassing when people notice. Maybe I'm still being naive, trying to be too brave, but I haven't considered asking about upping my dose again. At this level I can function, I can go back to work, leave the house to be social, and I can sleep (disgustingly sweaty sleeps lol). I think a part of me feels like I need to show my baby, right from the start, that I'm willing to fight, or struggle a little for him/her. I don't feel like its necessary to be completely miserable and feel as though I'm fighting for my life every day in order to impress my child..but this way I can feel assured that I have at least made a solid effort. 

My anxiety definitely makes every aspect of being pregnant harder. Well, frankly it makes every aspect of life harder, but pregnancy in particular right now. Of course the chronic nausea eggs on the panic, the lack of energy, the ridiculous heartburn/indigestion, and always having to go to the bathroom too. But the bits that are the most magic, also make me the most anxious. 

I am one of those women who feels like its a teeny bit science-fictiony, the fact that there are legs and arms and a brain and another heart beating inside my tummy! I mean, that IS the magic of it all...but I am impressed by any woman who doesn't think that's just a teeny creepy, too! 

Honestly though, it took me a long time to come to terms with having I weenie IUD inside my uterus, before surgery. It was a minuscule piece of plastic, and it still took time for my anxiety to get used the the fact that it was in there when I was sleeping and when I was awake and when I was having a shower, and when I was blogging! And now!? Now that tiny, silent, still thing has been replaced by something that is already the size on a lemon! And has squirmy arms and dancing legs! And fingerprints! And that's kinda freaky!

I have an app that send me weekly updates (based on the stereotypical growth and development of babies), and I get excited to read them that morning, and forward them to the daddy. I find the size comparisons to fruits very adorable, and I have come to get very excited over the actual (approximate) measurements, and running to the ruler I keep in the bathroom and holding it up to my tummy! But the details on top of that, are things that I can only think about for a second before feeling that anxious flush. When I first REALLY thought about little fingers moving around in there, I got completely nauseous! And now that I'm trying, it's kind of hard to explain! Lol. 

And that's all for now! Me and my lemon are going to nap! Lol I am exhausted! I have been stressing over finishing a blog to post before the baby is frigging born, and it turned into a bit of a rant..and Im sure there will be plenty of eye rolls..and the last bit doesn't even really make sense, but in my deference I was semi distracted by all the nutty ladies on the Bachelor premiere while typing...

The last thing to say, for now, is that no matter what, no matter the anxieties and the absolute uncomfortableness, and the price of maternity bras...I am going to completely devour and cherish this adventure. (Which is of course easier said, now that I've stopped puking and shitting every other hour.) 

I am in no way ashamed to say that this will be my only pregnancy. Even before getting pregnant, I came to the conclusion that I'd have the hysterectomy at some point during Mat Leave. And I KNOW that's a whole other thing that makes some women crazy...me CHOOSING to give up the 'parts' that make me female, choosing to ignore the fact that sometimes pregnancy makes Endometriosis a little better, choosing to take the 'easy' way out, instead of fighting through the disease for the next 25 years. And those opinions are completely allowed, but in this case, mine is the only opinion that matters. Only I know what it's been like to have lost years of my life to this disease, only I know how stressful it is to be in and out of work because I'm too sick to do what all other adults are supposed to be doing, only I know what it's like to be trapped in a completely depressed and panic-ridden body, all thanks to Endometriosis, so only I need to make the choice. And it's a big choice, I understand that. But I am ready to NOT be sick anymore. I am ready to forgo illness-triggered anxiety. I am ready to be able to support myself like a big girl. I am ready to have a beautiful baby with my beautiful husband, and then finally (though, likely slowly) move on with a beautiful normal-feeling life! 

And because of all that, I am very ready to just suck up every minute of the next 6 months! I will take full advantage of the 'Um, excuse me, Im pregnant' excuse, and I will have no shame in acting like I'm the first person to ever be pregnant, and I will plaster my social media pages with ridiculous tummy pictures and today's-cravings pictures, and I will feel super special every time someone touches my tummy! And I will likely full-blown panic when I feel it move for the first time! And I will likely scream, and cry, and call for Sigourny Weaver the first time I see a little foot poke out of my tummy! And I will most definitely complain, out loud, about how much I have to pee, and how whale-like I look, and how sleeping with a baby IN your tummy is nothing like sleeping with a pillow on your tummy! 

I'm a Princess after all, so I'm allowed.