Princess Portraits

I am very much one of those people who don't like pictures of themselves being posted, unless I personally find them attractive. And while my standards for 'attractive' have lowered since getting pregnant (I shower as little as possible, never wear my hair down, and I haven't put my contacts in since 2013), a 'selfie' usually requires taking 3 or 4 pics to choose from, or I pose with my 'good side'. 

Tonight was different. 

I was in a slight stage of undress, preparing to shower (for the first time since Monday, of course), and I caught a glimpse of myself in our fairly water-spotted mirror. And I was in awe. Not the cocky kind of awe. A completely natural, a little in shock, wow kind of awe. 

In the beginning stages of pregnancy, I was miserable. I make no effort to deny that, nor should I be made to feel as if I should! I was nauseous and puking all over the place, and I was just fat. Well, that's how it felt anyways. It took a while because of the morning sickness, but when I started to gain weight it seemed to come in the form of chub, and not a bump. Many people claim that a woman is most beautiful when pregnant, and I do find pregnant women completely beautiful...but not in the beginning. The weight starts off spread all over the place, and you're feeling huge and pregnant, but any stranger would assume you we're just a little thicker, not pregnant. No one thinks you're pregnant without a big bump! And that made me miserable. Things stopped fitting, but for no OBVIOUS reason. Before I was a good 16 weeks a long, I couldn't for the life of me understand why women wanted any maternity photos taken, never mind the kind where they're naked!

Looking pregnant makes it all a little easier. I very much dig my bump, and I've started preferring fitted clothes again. When I'm in front of the toilet now, being able to look down and SEE the reason behind everything, makes even the barfing easier to deal with. In fact, my Instagram page (@alwaysgeorge) is completely overflowing with my #bump pictures now. 

Tonight's selfie was a little different though. Almost one of those 'a-ha' moments Oprah is so fond of. I was standing in front of our bathroom mirror, in my (large!) sports bra and years-old grungy sweat pants, my hair clearly in need of the shower I was about to have, and no makeup...and I had never felt so beautiful. And not just beautiful, I felt so happy. And in awe. Because in that moment, I had my hands on my (what I think is a) perfect belly, admiring my new hard to believe shape, and he kicked. 

It wasn't the first kick I'd felt by any means. I've been able to feel the little bubbly (they're not flutters at all!) movements for probably a month, and at least 2 weeks ago I started being able to feel the movements on the outside of my tummy (which is so, so much neater!). Daddy and Grampa have even gotten to feel a few boots!

But feeling him kick, in that particular moment, really rounded off this 'whole' feeling. A completeness. And I was in awe. 

I was in awe of how obvious it was, what exactly was going on inside of me! Every so often I say to myself, 'Like, there is for real a real baby in there!', because its still so surreal. I was in awe of how accepting, and happy I finally was with the way I looked, too. Just round, and weird, and wonderful! I found myself wishing so hard that it would magically be 20 degrees outside, so I could run around in a bikini and let the whole world (or whoever was awake and on the streets still at 11pm) see me in my glory!

Mostly though, I was in awe because I was standing there, looking at myself actually enjoying feeling a baby moving around inside my tummy. Because 20 weeks ago, when I realized we had in fact magically succeeded in getting pregnant, I was suddenly PETRIFIED of what this baby, this experience was going to do to my panic disorder. It took me an entire trimester to get used to the idea of throwing up every day without dying from anxiety. Even after that feat, I was completely convinced that feeling the baby would destroy me. 

Before the baby is big enough to be able to be felt, you don't really have to think about it! You are sick, and bloated, and exhausted, and moody so you know you're pregnant, but you don't really have to think about exactly what's going on with your body. Once it starts kicking, you can't NOT picture that weird, teeny human being living and moving amongst all your other vital organs! You can't NOT get stuck on the fact that there is a set of EYEBALLS inside your tummy! As 100% natural as being pregnant is, it is NOT normal! Lol. Not for someone like me, anyways. Not for someone who panicked every time she remembered the tiny, not-alive IUD inside of her pelvic area! 

But there I was! In the dirty mirror, in my dirty sweat pants with my dirty hair, feeling my almost-son kicking me, and I was nothing but so happy. No sudden hot flash, no dizziness, no increased heart rate, no hating the fact that I can't take Ativan, just so happy. So happy, and whole, and in awe of all the things my body, and my brain, and my heart are capable of. 

Regardless of the poor lighting, the towels in the background and the faucet in the foreground, and no concealer over my terrible pregnant complexion, I had no reservations over capturing that image, that moment. And sharing it with my Kingdom. 

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. 

Mrs. Princess (finally, I know)

In the rush of things, I never got around to posting this chunk of writing that I did, only 2 days before our September 14th wedding.  And then of course I was exhausted from all the work that accompanies a DIY wedding, I got right back into the new school year with a new group of kids, and then I got sick and lazy!  But now that I get two whole weeks of Christmas break to enjoy, I have no more excuses.  So here is a piece I wrote, about writing my wedding vows, along with the actual words I read that completely perfect (I still can't believe how perfectly it all turned out) late afternoon, three and a half months ago.. 

September 12th, 2013 - I've written novels, and children's books, and blogs, and thousands of poems, and I've written in a journal regularly since Grade 3. Despite all of that practice, writing my wedding vows has proven ridiculously difficult. 

I've actually been writing my wedding vows since I was like, 16 years old. There are a bunch of journal pages over the last 10 years covered in romantic words inspired by a movie I'd just watched, or a poem I'd written. I've dog-eared pages to remind myself to add certain things into my vows one day. In the last 5 years I have written plenty of beautiful poems and sappy journal entries about my nearly-husband, but when I sat down to actually compose vows specifically to saw out loud in front of all our family and friends, to him specifically, I turned into such a dummy! 

I used to attend weddings and be so shocked that no one was reciting vows they'd written themselves, because it seems like the one and only time you can profess your personal feelings and let everyone know exactly how you feel...but it makes sense now. There is already so much pressure (that I've mostly placed on myself) for a perfect wedding, but to have to add a bunch of perfect words on top of that, to be spoken during the most important few minutes of our lives together, makes for a crushing amount of pressure! 

My body has been overwhelmed with emotions since the day we met, and to squeeze all of that into only a minute seems so impossible. but what parts do I leave out? Do guests want to laugh during the ceremony, or do I need to cut deep and aspire to make everyone weep? Are you supposed to actually say the word 'vow'? No wonder celebrities always say their more nervous then excited about being nominated for an Oscar! Winners are given like 70 seconds to thank everyone who's ever been nice to them, and throw in something inspiring and moving and uplifting, in front of the entire world! Right now, 85 guests FEEL like the entire world. 

It's just tough! Especially refraining from rambling, that's the hardest part for me! My first draft was like an entire page long. We'd end up starting dinner at 8pm if I was allowed to say everything that I want to say to him. When you love someone enough to marry them, it could take DAYS to describe why you love them that much, to mention every wonderful, selfless thing they've ever done, every inside joke. 

And because of all the wedding stress, the last minute changes we never prepared to be ready for, the lack of sleep, and lack of hours in the day, my brain has shut down! Completely! Not only can I not string a few beautiful, nostalgic words together..I can't string a few words together period! 

* * * * *

"Dear Nolan 

Besides I love you, all I really want to say to you is, thank you. 

Thank you for asking for my number the first time we ran into each other downtown, years after sharing a high school media class. And thank you for not holding it against me when I apparently required Destiny to tell me more then once that you were the one. 

Thank you for never giving up, and running away as fast as you could, no matter how sick, and anxious, and exhausting I got, over and over again. 

Thank you for finally proposing! Lol

And thank you for loving me enough to stand up here,only 4 months later, promising to love me, forever.

I vow to love you forever, and to spend that forever proving that it was all worth it."

Crown Missing

Right now, all I want in the whole wide world is my engagement ring back. That's it! I don't want a car, or a pony, or a million dollars (ok, I for sure want a million dollars), I just want my ring. 

Peoples took it 7 weeks ago, to make a mold etc. because it requires a custom made wedding band (I have since suggested to every person in a relationship that I know lol, to never buy an engagement ring that won't fit with a normal band, or doesn't come with a band)....and I've started calling them once or twice a week, after the initial 3 weeks. 

First they said they'd make the mold, give us the estimate for the cost, then size and send my engagement ring back. Then they said they weren't making the mold even, until we agreed on the estimate price, because just the stupid mold costs $400. So we said yes to what I think is an outrageous price for a like, a gram of white good and a few minuscule diamonds (it's actually more then twice the cost of my engagement ring!), and we were told my engagement ring would be back in about a week, once the mold was made, and the wedding band would take another 3 weeks. Fine. That was a month ago. 

It turns out, the jewelers needed to keep the engagement ring so that while they are making the wedding ring, they can match all the lines, and all the stones up perfectly. (Isn't that what the $400 mold was for?!) I can appreciate perfection, in fact I expect perfection for that much money. And I also understand that there are hundreds of brides whose rings they are currently crafting, and I accept that we weren't able to give them a ton of notice or time. But 7 weeks without the prettiest thing I've ever seen, is seriously starting to weigh on me!

I am a patient person. I actually consider my patience to be at par with a superpower. I can hold a child for hours while it screams in my face, and it doesn't phase me whatsoever. I don't honk at or flip off drivers who forget that you can turn right on a red. I'm fine sitting in a change room naked for 20 minutes because the sales lady forgot that she was finding me another size. Heck, I waited 2 years after picking out an engagement ring before actually being proposed to! But when I'm told over and over again, 'Oh! It'll just be 3 weeks! It'll just be one more week! Oh, we'll have it next week!' I start to want my antidepressants back, and start ponder antipsychotics, too. 

Most people think I'm being silly. 'Its just a ring, and everyone KNOWS you're engaged,' is a common response. But in all fairness, those people weren't (or never have been) engaged females. Because I feel like its a right of passage! To me, the engagement is the exciting part, the time to simply show off before the actual wedding stress kicks in. Because of everything that's going on, I only get to be engaged for (less then) 4 months, and Peoples has basically ruined half of it. As vein as it sounds, I feel a little less special every time I leave the house, knowing the cashier at the grocery store, or the bank teller, or the kids at work won't get to notice the sparkly thing on my finger. 

I still feel engaged, of course, in the sense that I'm in the midst of planning a wedding, but without my engagement ring, I feel like I'm missing out on the special, pretty, 'IM ENGAGED!!' feelings. I felt super dumb during my Bachelorette party, because of course every stranger who noticed the penis-adorned veil on my head responded with, 'YAY! Let me see the ring!!' After this weekend I will also have attended both of my bridal showers without my engagement ring. And that's ridiculous!

I just got off the phone with our sales lady at Peoples and she seemed far too excited to tell me, 'I think I can get it back for you on the 23rd!' 'Oh, that's awesome! Unless of course you remember that last week you said if have it this week.'

Perhaps it's the expectations that I've been given, that is the kryptonite to my patience. My fiancé took me ring shopping WAY before he was actually planning on proposing, and literally every day after that I was expecting him to drop to one knee. And when you assure me that it'll only be 3 weeks before I get my engagement ring back, I expect my engagement ring back in 3 weeks. And every day after that I want to hit someone a little harder. 

I simply feel incomplete, like a Princess without her crown.  

And I also feel fucking ticked off. 

How Many Times Have I Tweeted, 'Deep Breaths'?

It recently came to my attention that its hard for anyone who has never come off of prescription medication, to understand what it's like to come off of prescription medication. So! In hopes of distracting myself from the current overwhelming urge to escape, and to cry, I thought I'd attempt to explain it. 

Firstly, it's hard for ME to understand what's going on. As things get uncomfortable, I'm constantly reminding myself that on top of the fact that it just underwent surgery two months ago, my body is going through so many changes. Therefore I don't hold it against anyone at all, when they don't understand, or even choose to judge the situation that I'm currently in. 

Many people assume, when you mention that you're working your way off medication, that its like detoxing. It's not. Not for me anyways. Those classy enough to catch shows such as Dr Drew's Celebrity Rehab, know that coming off of alcohol or recreational drugs usually involves shakes, and sweats, and puking, and sometimes seizures. For me, the reactions or side effects are basically invisible. 

I am gradually coming off of Celexa, a drug that my brain has been thriving on for 10 years. Almost exactly 10 years, actually. I first started on it as a way to deal with my depression. A few years ago after experimenting with a few different brands, we ended up increasing my dose of Celexa to deal with my acute panic disorder, on top of the depression. I've been on it so long that I couldn't tell you what it actually does for me, I don't remember what it felt like when it sunk in for the first time and started making me feel better. Coming off of the drug now, I realize that I have taken it and its huge effect on my life, for granted. 

The best way to explain things may be to say that I feel like a teenager going through puberty for the first time. So many 'new' physical and mental feelings all at once. It's overwhelming, and it's frustrating or even a little nerve racking, because I don't know my body is doing or feelings certain things at certain time. The medication put me in control of my mind and my body, but now I'm relinquishing it.

It doesn't take much to raise the temperature of my blood, or to make my skin crawl. The ridiculous spacing of this current Word Doc alone is making me want to punch things. Someone who's been in this same situation might notice my newly acquired ticks (for lack of a better word), though I don't even notice them sometimes. I find my hands in fists, or my fingers and toes wriggling around when it gets bad. My skin has gotten so sensitive sometimes that even my FIANCÉ'S (tee hee) hand on my back, makes me want to throw up. I also worry that my dentist is going to notice how much I've been grinding my teeth lately.

All of that is my anxiety creeping back in. 

Oh! I will take a minute to acknowledge now, the powers of therapies which do not involve drugs. Talk therapy, art therapy, CBT, etc are all things that while at the time may not have seemed super useful, are proving to have been benefitting me this whole time. The fact that I'm not back on the bathroom floor right now, even though I'm nauseous as heck, is testament to all of the hard work I've done over the last few years, on top of taking the right meds. While I am very comfortable saying that I still couldn't have survived the last few years without drug therapy, I am very thankful that I was given the opportunity to partake in so many other kinds of therapy, because that is what I am holding onto now. 

When we first started discussing babies, which involved discussing coming off my medication, I was very worried about the depression. My fiancé has seen me in the midst of the most horrific anxiety, but he didn't know me when I was depressed. Then again, when I was depressed, lol no one noticed anyways! Depression was always very easy for me to hide. I'm a born actress (I think, anyways lol), and high school was prime time to 'fake it til you make it', so no one ever worried about me, until I asked them too. 

I feel extremely nervous to admit that I have felt depressed, since starting to come off of my medication. It's never a serious depression, and usually it'll only last an hour! It's just a BLAH feeling, and I don't want to talk to anyone, or do anything, so I'll go back to bed, and wake up feeling better. I call it the 'high school' feeling. If I'm driving when it's dark out, and there's some slow song on...I get very sentimental...and my brain starts thinking about our old family home, and when we were all young and careless and silly, and family vacations, and smoking at parties even though I thought smoking was gross...and my body starts to feel like I remember it feeling in high school. And that's when I feel a little nervous. And that's when I search for a station playing that stupid Miley song, and I text something inappropriate to BriBear, and make plans to do something with another person. Because I don't know if I'll ever be comfortable enough to reminisce that way, without medication. 

However! I can't be sure (and neither can my doctors, really) what symptoms and side effects are from coming off the Celexa, and what are from coming off my birth control! Because I'm doing that, too! Because who doesn't want to deprive their body of ALL the extra chemicals and hormones that it’s been living off of for 10 years, all at once? 

What was I thinking!?

Well, lol. I guess I was thinking that I'd like for the baby who will be growing in my tummy any time now, to eventually come out of my tummy with only 1 head, and 10 fingers and toes. 

And that's what I have to keep reminding myself. And that's what I have to keep reminding the people around me who also have to deal with all my new feelings etc. I'm not doing this just for fun! It's the least amount of fun I've ever had! I'm doing it because we want a baby, and because we HAVE to have that baby soon. And we want that baby to be happy and healthy. Mine is likely the least desirable uterus to have to live in. So I figure, if the baby can survive in there, then I can survive without drugs. Seems fair, right?

I try to be funny, and sarcastic about it, and I know I do a good job at hiding it. But it is hard. It's actually really hard sometimes, and that's why I'm not really working this summer. The timing is perfect really, since my school job gives me the summer off. Planning a wedding is enough to make any 'normal' person lose it at least a little, especially planning a wedding in less then 4 months! When I then realized I needed to plan a wedding, and at the same time come off of all my medication, not getting a summer job seemed smart. It seemed like the safest thing, for me. This way I can enjoy the process of planning our special day, and I can get through it without hurting people, or myself. And while wedding planning doesn't make for the IDEAL time to come off the meds...there won't ever be an actual perfect time to do it. Just like there's really no perfect time to have a baby! So why not!

I am currently on 1/4 of my original Celexa dose (and zero birth control), and I'm still alive. I get outrageous headaches (which I was never prone to before), my stomach may flip from violently nauseous to painfully hungry every 15 minutes (needless to say, eating has drastically dropped on my list of favorite things to do), and I may cry watching animal rescue videos on you tube, and Say Yes To The Dress...but I'm still alive, and that's all that matters! I'm not in a ball on the bathroom floor, I'm not even desperate for Ativan. I’m not telling random strangers to fuck off, or calling off the wedding. A year ago even, I never would have put money on my ability to function, let alone be a productive and loving fiancé without any medication. It's good news! It's completely exhausting some days, but it's impressive. I'm impressed. I'm impressed, AND getting married in like 5 weeks! Imagine!

It's Just So Sparkly

Not to get cocky and competitive, but, this ring is even prettier then Cinderella's slipper. 

It has been a mental (I'm allowed to use that word) few weeks. Just so, so nuts! Good nuts! As good as nuts can be!! 

I have finally had my post-op follow up appointment with my Gyno/surgeon, and I feel relieved enough to finally type about it all. 

Things are seeming very certain and according to plan. It's of course a revised version of the plan I'd always assumed we had, but feeling 'certain' is definitely a new, blessed feeling. 

(I don't know why I used the word 'blessed' lol)

A month ago I went into day surgery, and went under for a laporoscopy, and a DNC. My uterus is all tidy now, a bleeding cyst was evacuated, and a lot of Endometriosis was removed (mainly from my pelvic wall), which is the best news ever. 

Or so I thought!

When I came-to in my hospital bed, the first thing I got to see was a huge goofy smile on my boyfriend's face. Despite the IV narcotics lol, I'd somehow got hold of my phone as soon as I got out of surgery, and text him to come pick me up. Of course when he got back to the hospital and told the nurse at the desk that he was there to get me, she let him know that I was nowhere near allowed to leave yet. So for an hour or so, I drifted in and out of la-la land, always opening my eyes to him. And all I could think about (besides how AWESOME drugs feel) was how lucky I was to be able to leave the hospital that afternoon as a totally healthy and happy person again! A person I hadn't been in a good 6 months. 

I couldn't wait to get home and start a new, healthy chapter in our lives...drink too much Booster Juice and take painkillers, and stay in bed for a week, and get excited about the fact that we were going to start trying to make a baby soon. But I had no idea how excited I was about to really be. 

Turns out, IV narcotics + the removal of my IUD hormones = supreme overemotionalism. We did in fact start discussing the impending conception of our maybe-baby before bed, and super emotional (super high) me questioned how he could say he was ready to have a baby so soon, if he wasn't ready to be engaged to me yet. 

A minute, and a million tears later, the honest-to-god sparkliest diamond ring was on my finger. Just like that! No hoopla, just the two of us, in bed, emotional and in love, and ready to spend the rest of our lives together. I of course always thought I wanted a grand gesture sort of proposal (and with all the time he'd taken to finally propose, I had assumed a large plan). Turns out, he was just waiting for the right moment, and in turn, the moment was perfect. 

I also had thought that I wanted to just have a baby, and then worry about getting married etc. We had known for a while that a baby had to happen sooner then later, and a baby seemed like enough to worry about for a while. But then my friend, my Matron Of Honor, came over with bridal books, and magazines, and our ever-changing plans changed again!

I think it took me flipping through maybe 4 pages of Bride magazine, to get overwhelmingly excited to plan a wedding. My FIANCÉ and I talked that night, and we realized that once we have a baby, planning, and paying for a wedding will get pushed so far down the priority list, that if we want to enjoy entire wedding experience, we needed to do it before we got pregnant. I already knew that I couldn't give the Endometriosis more then 6 months to start returning before getting pregnant, so that meant getting pregnant before December...so that meant needing to get married before December. I checked my calendar and the 14th of September (because it has to be a 14th, and September shouldn't be too hot, or too cold!) just happened to fall on a Saturday! And that was that! Our brand new engagement was given 4 months!

Turns out the timing of the LONG-awaited proposal was perfect, because being forced to recover in bed made for a lot of wedding planning time. As will school (work) being out for the summer. I've gotten our mailing list together, invites designed, rentals figured out, favors figured out, and every party or shower scheduled! And I bought a wedding dress last week!! 

It'll be a lot. It'll be a busy summer. Not to mention that I'll be working through it all while also working my way off of my antidepressant/anti-anxiety medication, in order to prep my body for a healthy baby to grow! Pfffft, no biggie! We've already firmly decided to leave the Anxiety Monster off of our guest list, so I'm not worried about a thing!

Do princesses take their partner's last name after the wedding? 

The next 3 months are going to be so exciting, and happy, and stressful, and full of sarcastic hilarity, and hopefully I'll allow myself to find some time to type about it all. It deserves to be typed about. 

And this ring really does deserve to be stated at, as much as I stare at it.