All's Well

Brody is fine.

The bad effects of his anesthesia are finally wearing off and he can sleep at night without screaming in terror. 

His incision is a closed pale pink line and looks wonderful.

We have 2 followups to go, but I think it should be okay. 

Work is keeping me busy.

Sasha goes back to preschool tomorrow.

Live is pretty good.

That Bridge Done Burnt Already

Internet social convention is to not write details about issues or complaints that are workplace related. 

However, what do you do when the complaints are about a former client or employer.
And what if that former employer or client has already blackballed you, therefore making the argument about future employment moot?
And what if your complaints about them are about what's been done AFTER your business with them terminated?


Are you still supposed to remain silent?

Worrywort

I'm having a bit of a rough day today and have spent most of the morning in tears.

Nothing new has happened. Actually, today has been pretty decent.

The boys went off to Grandma's without a hitch. The internet is up and working so I can work today (I am now an independant contractor so we have income). And the weather outside is lovely.

I am just having one of those days where the weight of motherhood is pressing on me particularly hard and the stress of everything has me at a breaking point.

We were supposed to have Brody's surgery done by now, but thanks to diagnostic tests taking FOREVER to get scheduled and done (the MRI alone wanted us to wait 8 weeks, we thankfully didn't have to wait quite that long) we are still hanging around and waiting. We think they have all been finished, but his cardiologist took vacation till yesterday so nothing will be scheduled till today or tomorrow at the earliest. And then it will likely just be another consult, requests for blood work, and more waiting. I refuse to look for full time work till we have the surgery done and he's out of the hospital since home recovery is expected to be about another month and FMLA doesn't kick in till you've worked somewhere a year. That's all I need...start a new job and then get fired.

Thanks to the MRI, the worries I had about him and general anesthesia have been put to rest. So, at least that's one less thing. He wakes up quickly and vigorously--and angry.

I'm still praying that the Lourdes water did something. That maybe all we need now is to fix the valve via catheter (I can still feel his murmur). That he suddenly now has only 2 atriums instead of 3 and no longer has holes in his heart. The thought of my baby on a heart/lung machine is killing my soul.

Truant

Life has taken me away from personal persuits on the internet. Perhaps I should have kept it up. Probably it would have been something of a therapy. But I pulled away instead.

Things started with me losing my job.

Then "Brody" was diagnosed with heart defects (atrial septal defects, valve stenosis, and cor triatriatum).

Then the dogs have gone downhill.

Now my father seems to be ill.

I don't hardly sleep anymore.

The job situation seems to be improving. Today I begin part time with a small company who knows my situation and is willing to work around my scheduling issues with "Brody" and his medical care. When all is expected to be finished, the plan is to hire me full time. This really is a mitzvah and I am so grateful for it.

We are working through the pre-surgical hoops with "Brody". This means a lot of appointments and calls to harrass the insurance into paying out what they are supposed to. I have called the cardiologist's office I don't even know how many times to fix things. The good news that, as of right now, they expect to be able to fix everything in a single surgery, be fine in a month, and never have any restrictions or issues again. The bad news is I have to have my baby go to open heart surgery for him to have a normal life.

The dogs--I feel like a callous witch when it comes to them. I can't find the room in my heart to care too much with everything else going on. They are just pets. One is old and has been sick from the day we got her. The other has injured herself beyond repair be being the same insane creature she has always been. I'm actually looking forward to the day I don't have to deal with their needs anymore. Vacations will be simple and less expensive. The daily routine freer. The house cleaner.

My father, well we're waiting to see what is up. I am praying that he is really fine and this is a false alarm.

As for Sasha, he has been well as always and a normal healthy preschooler who isn't going to preschool (we can't afford it). I've been doing his homeschooling and he has playdates so he's been pretty happy with the current state of affairs.

now a mom of 2

"Brody" arrived September 14 at 1406.

Smaller than we expected at 6lbs 13oz., but also earlier at 38 weeks. We were scheduled for a cesarean the following Monday, but he decided that labor should start at work. Hubby, Sasha, and I just left to go to the hospital at about 1030, got there about 1130, and after they determined it wasn't just a case of irritable uterus we went off to get a repeat csection.

All went well and this was a much better experience. Brody is a stronger baby and I healed way better. The hospital staff was nicer. Basically it was as good as could be.

Sasha is adjusting. Its taking time but its progressing.

and going from 1 to 2? so much simpler than 0 to 1.

It Has Been Eventful

Between the earthquake and the “hurricane” (we just got a much needed soaking) last week was full enough. However we had more going on than that for us.

The really concerning one was the Hound poisoning herself.

She’s a bit of a throwback and we know she hates being fed any foods that are “prepared” in any way. Even pre-killed. However, we don’t live somewhere we can set lose chickens or goats in the yard for her to attack and kill like the T-Rex in Jurassic Park. I know for a fact we’d be in trouble for animal cruelty. So she frequently hunts wild things on her own in the yard or, before her knees went bad, escaped to hunt and then comes home. We offer her food she won’t eat and this is just the way being her caretakers goes.

She’s also had problems lately on and off with organ function testing showing up as horrible. And then 2 weeks to a month later showing up perfectly fine. The vet at the clinic we were using insisted that she was on a downhill track if we didn’t get her on certain meds right away. I couldn’t swallow that since if we simply waited a short time, the problem seemed to go away. Organ failure just doesn’t undo itself all on it’s own. And doesn’t remain asymptomatic for over a year.

The vet I love has now opened her own clinic so I had the girls go in and voila. The Hound’s blood test shows up craptastic again. But the vet I love is the vet I love for a reason. She knows our hound well and knew she’d demolished a nest of mice that morning. She put in for a tox screen too. Apparently one of our neighbors is using poison to keep the vermin population down on their property and those mice, rabbits, etc. cross our borders just fine and every so often the Hound eats one. This is all accidental and makes me wish people would go back to using lard-soaked cork and barn cats to get rid of their mice.

So we are treating the poisoning, changing her diet back to raw, and putting her on some supplements to help boost her general health in case it happens again. So far, she seems pretty good but we need to accept that this will likely happen again and she is probably going to kill herself one of these days.

The less concerning issue is my layoff notice.

I got one alerting me that I am to be laid off the day I return from maternity leave. Rather than a horror show, I’m finding it to be merely an example of extremely questionable management decisions and annoying timing. I have no trouble finding work. In fact, I simply updated my resume online and have had 3 different interviews and a job offer I had to turn down because I cannot start next week. I will have something by the time I need to and it may even be better paying. We can manage the current daycare arrangements because the Husband can do it on the way to his new job no matter where I go—it just won’t be as convenient. And with that new inconvenience it may be worth it to at least consider a different arrangement—meaning further work and inconvenience for me. And all this: job hunting, daycare logistics, etc is in addition to the necessary consideration on whether my rights are being trampled. So this is really just a huge irritant that will take my maternity leave away as a time to recover and turn it into something it shouldn’t be.

You're Not Bein' Very Nice to Me!

This was a disappointing weekend.
Saturday, we were supposed to have a pseudo-escape. It didn’t work out so well.
The fellowship organization got all the candidates hotel rooms at a nice place so they could easily make all the appointments—even those very early in the morning. Since Saturday was just the banquet and Sunday the getting-to-know-you events, we thought it would work nicely if I stayed over Saturday night. A dinner and hotel room! Free! Yes, I knew I would be necessarily neglected during dinner, but my hope was that the food would be good.
I should know better.
The “banquet” was a few different kinds of sloppy joe that were room temperature and had been sitting out a few hours (food poisoning, anyone?). I didn’t eat. The rooms were like a sauna and there was no hot water. I did not sleep well or comfortably. The morning shower was also unpleasant.
I left fairly early in the morning. Hubby said they’d switched the room to freezing with scalding water the next day (after walking around the city in the pouring deluge) and wondered if it was an endurance test of some kind. I would kind of wonder the same thing after that.
Sasha was mad at us when I got home. He did not want us leaving him (note: We left him with his grandparents, not alone). So he decided to punish us. And so he punished me.
He woke up at 1am and wandered into our room. Sometime before waking me up, he fussed with the buttons on the alarm clock changing it from “radio” to “rain” (keep in mind, it was pouring, so not a sound likely to cause any sleep disruption). Then he woke me up to ask me where his “red doggie pants were”. I didn’t know. At one am I didn’t have any idea what he was talking about. I told him to go back to bed. He pranced out “Ok, I’m findin’ ‘em”.
I opened my eyes a little and noticed his bedroom light was on so I got up.
There were clothes strewn everywhere and his drawers were empty. And he was bottomless. I asked if he’d wet or dirtied his PJ’s. Nope. I asked why he was half naked and in a new top (note to self: he can button). He said he didn’t want his Star Wars ones, he wanted the ones with doggies.
Oh, no. He was getting right back in his undies and pants, helping me put his clothes back, and getting his rear back in that bed.
Apparently that was intolerable. So he threw a fit.
My night of peaceful sleep was then toast and included a good bit of time cramming a wild baboon into clothes and cleaning up a clothing monsoon.
I suppose I should be grateful I got some extra sleep this morning courtesy of his alarm reprogramming.

Pause

It’s a bit of an awkward time right now. It’s a time of waiting. A time of “not quite”. A time of ill-fitting.

We wait to see if I go to work Monday. Part of me does not so secretly wish the government shuts down—if only for a day or two. I’m tired and need some time off.

Next week my Husband goes to his final interviews for his fellowship. The one we’re not even sure he can take if he gets it. And the one we’re pretty sure he’ll get (they’re down to the top 50 and there are 30 slots). While it would be wonderful for his career and education, it would put us in a bind for a year. His pay would be decreased. He’d lose his benefits (which we NEED). Daycare/preschool would no longer be conveniently located. And he’d have no leave available. Never mind the purely annoyance factor that they don’t withhold taxes so I’d have to do the figuring and payments to the government myself.

My mother has gone about trying to secure herself a mini-van so she could take care of Sasha, and his as yet hypothetical siblings. Despite the fact that she doesn’t currently take care of Sasha and he has no siblings. Despite the fact that we moved him to his current place because we needed someone to watch him every day, which she can’t do and her scheduling demands make it impossible to find gap care or maintain a full-time job. Me, I’ve got a referral to a genetics and IVF clinic (more for the genetics than the IVF) so you can see how I also find this a bit overly optimistic on her part. But in spite of it all, she moves forward as if it’s a done deal that it’s going to happen. Planning for children that aren’t and a situation that isn’t.

I feel like I’m waiting for life to happen and everyone else is making plans.

Child Labor

I’m glad yesterday happened. I had begun questioning my current arrangement.

Once, long ago when Sasha was very new, I teleworked quite often. I loved the arrangement. I got to sleep in a little since I did not have to commute any further than down the hall. I got housework done because no one said you can’t return calls while putting in a load of laundry or host a teleconference while tossing together a crock pot of chili. And newborn babies, for all their work intensiveness don’t actually *DO* much. They like to be held when they eat. They like to be held when they sleep. If you have a comfy chair and a good boppy to use at your desk then you are set.

I started having trouble when he became mobile and hadn’t yet been endowed with any sense. I found myself chasing him constantly. I needed help. He started going to daycare. I was able to work again.

But he now does have *some* sense. He also knows better ways to entertain himself. He has his puzzles and his books and his movies and can be quiet for hours. I was wondering if being a work-at-home mom was once again possible.

The answer is, no. At least as long as he is home with me.

• He joined in a teleconference and babbled on about who knows what for far too long before I realized it was him on the extension.
• He kept slipping in to the office, climbing on me, taking the security card out of my computer (locking it out).
• He repeatedly took off with notes and office supplies, and the clincher?
• Leaned in for what he’d promised was a kiss only to shout “KABONK!” and headbutt the bridge of my nose.

I’m sure he wasn’t much more fun for Hubby who was trying to work as well. I know the kid gets bored and wants interaction, but black eyes and bloody noses aren’t a good road to pleasantries.

Absence

It’s been a rough and hectic few weeks.

I was constantly unsure if I was about to become unemployed (incessant 1-3 day extensions) and in the midst of it all a planned family vacation to Colorado.

I am exhausted from all of it. The stress, the travel, the lack of oxygen…

The vacation should be known as The One Where We Got 78,000 Photos of Sasha Climbing Rocks.

Garden of the Gods rocks.
Pikes Peak rocks.
Fishcreek Falls rocks.
Hot Springs rocks.

Rocks, rocks, and more rocks. Rocks of every shape, color, size and designation. So now we have extensive proof that preschoolers enjoy climbing and like rocks. As if that needed clarification. But he had fun, the rocks were free, and it does make for some beautiful photos.

Or it could be known as The One Where I Obsessed About Every Penny. During the trip, apparently our we won our jobs in a somewhat more permanent fashion. However, I didn’t find out till I was all happy about staying home today because I’m wiped and need the rest. But it’s good to know I continue to earn a paycheck, so I was still happy to come in. If I’d known it during vacation, we might have been able to have a bit more fun and eat a little nicer (peanut butter and jelly gets old, ya know?), however we did save a lot of money and so I suppose my worries did help our bank balance.

Perhaps we could also call it The One Where We Repeatedly Ran Into The Argument That Swimming Doesn’t Equal Bathing. Hubby is from a family of all boys. Wives did not come because they also had work quirks, but had elected to stay home where I figured I may as well go or else I’d just twiddle my thumbs. And this was a family vacation in the sense of EXTENDED family. Colorado has many bodies of water that are beautifully clean and clear, unlike here. I did not get icked out by the idea of jumping in for a swim myself and found it refreshing. However, there is no soap in the stream/waterfall/river/lake/springs. If anything, you may come out smelling worse (sulfer stinks). Men do not appear to understand this concept and BO in close quarters is not your friend.

Or it could be The One Where Kerrygirl Stayed Well. Granted, this was because she stayed with her vet. Who fed her the food we gave her and gave the dog a prophylaxis for her HGE that actually made sense. Xanax. When will other vets/kennels/dogsitters be clued in that Science Diet isn't the end all and be all of canine nutrition and antibiotics and heavy duty wormers are not the answer to all stomach issues? Medicine shouldn't be approched in a cookie-cutter fashion, since the world is not populated by clones with identical lives and experiances. Sometimes the odd and simple answer is the right one.

But mostly, I think it could be known as The One Where Sasha Decided Independence Was Good. He decided to get rid of the little seat for the potty. He fed himself. He decided to walk and hike with us (except the day he had bad blisters) without demanding to be carried or his stroller. He road amusement rides without us without crying. And he’s been really trying to get the #2 in the potty.

All in all, a pretty good time.

Xanax Not Required

Although a great deal of the details are still up in the air, my work situation has evidently been hammered out. My company called, told me they were keeping me on after all, and so no worries. Problem solved.

A great deal else is going on, however. Things that should be making me crazy with stress, but oddly, aren’t—at least not to the degree I think they should. And in increasing "make me insane" value:

• I have my PMP exam this weekend.


• My Grandfather is doing poorly. He’s taken a definite downturn and it’s not believed he has much time left.


• My baby brother turned down another job offer (this one would include an offer for his almost-wife*). He has been unemployed for months and I worry about him. I worry about anyone who turns down offers of jobs that INCLUDE both an offer for your spouse, family support nearby (since it includes a move and they don’t have a place here), have higher salaries than you’ve earned thus far in life, and are in your field of expertise when they’ve been unemployed, do not have other prospects, and do not have the money to have the option of being a househusband. I’m worried about him. That’s why I keep working to get him job offers. Which he keeps turning down.

And yet, I’m not ranting or railing. I’m just feeling an undercurrent of concern. Concern for others. Concern on whether I should be doing something. Concern that I’m doing the wrong things. Concern about the welfare of my family. But a concern that isn’t keeping me from going about a normal day like it’s any other. I wonder if I'm just getting hard hearted?


*I say “almost-wife” because, while they had a wedding (I couldn’t go, we had no money for airfare), they are not legally married. In the U.S. you need to have a marriage license filed and signed by a recognized officiate and witnesses. I’m fuzzy on the details, but more or less it was determined unnecessary by someone in the Brides’ camp, when the original plans were made. They are having another wedding soon that’ll rectify any lack of recognition issues that the first left open.

Workin'

So, I'm working hard on having somewhere I have billable hours on October 1st.

I'm doing it from all angles:

• Looking for opportunities with my current employer
• Looking for opportunities with companies that have tried to hire me in the last 6 months
• Looking for opportunities with the company that won my job
• Dreaming of how nice it would be to be a stay-at-home Mommy and totally ignoring the fact we wouldn't be able to pay our bills that way.

So far, and keep in mind this is after spending 30 minutes making phone calls, I have no reason to fear. I'll be employed at a same-or-better salary in the same complex. It may be in my same job. It may be with my same company. It may be something else entirely.

I'd prefer to stay with my company, however. I mean, the 401K matching, the leave accrual, and so on make it preferrable to stay. And I want to have a child in less than 2 years and I want to have a New-Mother-Friendly environment when I do--and they have one.

But I'm looking around just in case. After all, I recently had my bank account wiped out (one day Hubby will understand that THIS IS WHY I HORDE MONEY!!!). I don't have a safety cushion to live off of while I take my time.

The Good With the Bad

In the wee smalls of the morning, my neice was born.
She's the same height and head size that my son was (big, both measures)...but she's a full pound and 4 oz heavier.
She's a lovely little girl and seems far more active than my boy was.

and also this morning I found news on the job front.
My company didn't win the bid. Which means I'm likely out of a job at the end of September. Again. I just went thru this in April.

But in a way to make the most of it, I took the last two days off. I didn't see much point in going in, really. After all, why not use up my leave? I'm not going to get to keep it.

A Bit Improved

We had some good news, the biopsy for the Hounds growth came back. It is not a mast cell like the surgeon thought, but rather a histiocytoma. Totally harmless, common in young dogs (the Hound is only 4), and usually resolves itself in a few months. Since she's fussing with it, she needs to keep it covered so she's been wearing dog dresses and we've been giving her antihistamines in the meanwhile. I can see how it was mistaken though, it's meaty, HUGE, grew extremely fast, has a lesion, and it really seems to bug her.



So this'll make life much cheaper...benedryl and a dress vs. Surgery and possible chemo/rad? I'll pick benedryl and a dress any day.



And a bit less worrisome. Although, oddly, I didn't find mysself worried at all. I just assumed she'd be fine.



***************************************

More good news, everyone is now on the same page on the tuition front--mostly that I am not made of money. This semesters fiasco is not to be repeated.

***************************************

Work we've been told we must wait till the end of the month to hear anything. Not an answer I like, but what are you gonna do? There's every reason to beleive I'd be picked up by someone and possibly just have to start over, again, as a new employee. Fortunately, it'd be soon enough that it wouldn't mess up my pregnancy plans. It'd still have been over a year since I started there by the time any child was born.

**************************************

On the toddler front, I don't know what I'm going to do about these stubborns. That child has a serious case of them.

• about every 10 days he flat out refuses to use a toilet the entire day. REFUSES!!! I will NOT lose in a battle of wills with a two year old. If I can stare down generals; I can stare down someone 3 feet tall.


• The other night he didn't want to stop playing blocks to go have his evening toilet (bath, toothbrush, etc.). So when I was about to go over and MAKE him, he threw a royal fit. The fit lasted throughout his ablutions. Finally I parked him back in front of his blocks and he stopped. I got him his evening drink, collected the menagerie he likes to have in his bed, and got all set up with the same books he likes read every night. He wouldn't budge. I enticed him with pictures of rhinos pooping. He stared at the wall. That kid wasn't going to be nice even if it killed him. His father came in and, oh, if he wasn't suddenly all sugar and sweetness...Hubby wasn't fooled. He told Sasha that he had 2 choices, go apologize and give Mommy a kiss, or go to bed. Darn it if that child didn't march himself right into his bed rather than kiss me!

Not In My Happy Place

I am having to revisit our little budget.

I was not necessarily expecting a certain large expense (*cough* Doctoral tuition *Cough*) since I was assured that it would only be undertaken if arrangements were made to have it paid by someone else.

And of course I got the bill. Surprise!

I suppose Hubby has a different definition of “someone else”

And I do want to be supportive of him, but I can’t help but wonder how much this is going to benefit us as a family.

Or about my request that I be able to go get my MBA first since, you know, that would be fairly quick (I already have several credits towards it), cheap (I could get about 80% reimbursed), and far more likely to pay for itself and then some.

Yes, I crunch numbers on the payoff for education and I’m not seeing any payoff.

It’s hard to be happy about this. I’m really trying. Hopefully I’ll find some reason to soon.
*****************************************************
On the subject of surprise bills, the Hound is going to have to go in for surgery soon. For once, Kerrygirl is totally fine. The Hound has a mast cell growth on her hip that’s going to have to go. We can work with the surgeon a little on price and we have good insurance on her, so it’ll come out to something fairly inexpensive, but still. Yikes.
******************************************************
Work is iffy. Rumors are flying and I’m hoping that next month I have a job. Meanwhile, we have no savings because of someones surprise tuition.

Striking Fear in the Hearts of Parents

I’ve begun to be filled with anguish at the hearing of a specific phrase:

“Sasha Help”*

Take for instance, when I heard it last night. I was fixing tonight’s dinner (organic vegan sloppy joe mix. Yum. Maybe. Probably not.), a batch of dog food (yes, I’ve given up and just started making my own for Kerrygirl. She lost serious weight on the commercial food.), and doing a few loads of laundry while Sasha was sitting on his little potty for 5 minutes.

I felt all panicky and ran to where I heard the little voice and saw….

• Him holding the little plastic receptacles and trying to walk over to the potty to empty it himself.
• Naked.
• With a poop still stuck to his butt.
• Sloshing urine and feces everywhere.
  

And given the history of “Sasha help” this was actually better than what I was expecting to see.
*****************************************************************************
Recompete season is upon us again.

This time I feel more secure and am not worried about getting laid off.

What am I doing? Looking at government jobs. I’m more than tired of dealing with the hassle of being this situation.

I can see the benefits to the client, for sure. But it’s something that wears on you after being in it for a decade or so. Eventually, I think I'd like more stability.

*****************************************************************************
*keeping in mind of course, Sasha is not his real name and just a placeholder. And that it needs to be his specific cadence of speech which is…unique. I’ve heard a lot of toddlers speak, and I haven’t heard his specific one yet. I need to find the musical transcription of the way every. Single. Sentence. Is spoken…

Cats & Dogs

Hubby has started his doctoral program. I’m not exactly sure what he plans to do with it when he’s done. He’s mentioned being a professor more than once, but that’d require moving. To Norfolk, at the closest.

I don’t wanna live in Norfolk.

It’s….Norfolk. Does that really take more explanation?

******************************************
Sasha was Uber-Zwei yesterday. More or less irritated absolutely everyone.

But we’ve learned someone is teaching him words they shouldn’t.

He was being annoying yesterday and kept goosing me, saying “Mama’s butt! Mama’s butt!” Which I was just correcting by telling him we don’t poke people in the butt, it’s not nice. But yes, that was, is and always will be…Mama’s butt.

When he grabbed me at the front and said, “Mama’s kitticat” (no, he did not say actually say ‘kitticat’, he said <censored>).

We do not use that word unless it’s followed by “willow” or “cat”.

Mama is displeased with whoever had the pottymouth that taught him that. Displeased as in “I’ll see you outside and show you how I fight dirty”.

**********************************************

Apparently some people consider me a bit…er…terrierish in personality (I believe the word ‘pitbull’ was used) and quite Type A.

I thought I was pretty laid back? How did I get to be the office pitbull and not know about it?

And No One Will Toilet from Within a Traffic Cone

The potty training continues to show progress. I have such an excellent little boy.
My current all-absorbing project while we’re spending way too much time at home (to be close to tiny plastic potties that are easier for someone to use) is redoing our own bathrooms. The upstairs hall one was redone a few months back. The upstairs master bath needs some additional work as time and use has made requisite and so is not usable. The downstairs halfbath in the mudroom I have been meaning to work on and got started 2 weeks ago. Everything was removed, the walls prepped, sanded and painted. Trim is up. And we are now ready to put in the fixtures.
I have a little less than two weeks to buy and install everything—and I mean everything. There is no toilet, sink, etc.
Sister’s baby shower is not this coming Saturday, but the following. At my house.
I remain confident that I can do it. I’ve checked the stores before and I know where to go for what and it’s all picked out. I just need to go get it and actually put everything together.
Work continues to be…interesting…(yeah, that’s a good word for it) and busy.

There must be a plan...

Life is about balance.

I’m trying hard to remind myself about that lately…that for every negative thing, there is a positive. That God gives us the tools and opportunities we need to make correct choices and come to the right ends.

For example, I’m getting laid off today. It’s not so bad. I’m getting severance and as of Monday I had two choices: Stay in my current job making less for another company and have fewer employees (meaning more work for me), or go to a new job entirely. I picked the new job. The pay would be a big improvement and the position more senior. However, I’d have to start over as a new employee. This would push back our plans to have a second child about a year because of maternity benefits.

Not something that made us particularly happy, but it still seemed the better option.

Then yesterday, I get the results of the various medical tests I had done. And basically was told there’s enough wrong that it’s not safe for me to get pregnant even if I could—which isn’t likely right now. I need to be treated and get things closer to “normal” before anything should be considered.


So, yes. It’s very disappointing. But, it’s the best choice for us for about every reason there could be.

Plus, now I can work on fixing things (in as much as I can).

It also brings to light that Sasha may potentially be helped in his asthma/allergies by folic acid supplements. If, as research suggests, increased folate reduces issues with asthma/allergies it should help in general. And since the C677T mutation lowers folate levels (I have two copies of it, so Sasha has at least one. We don’t know Hubby’s status), he may require more than standard to remain healthy.

So, I’m trying to see things in a good light. God is making me wait on my child, which is good because I need to be healthy first. And in finding what I need to be healthy, we have found potential help and explanation for Sasha and his problems.

ch-ch-ch-changes

This has been a month of changes.
Some difficult.
Some not.

Apparently the medical community has finally decided that, yes, Sasha has horrible allergies. Thank God. We've been instructed to give him Claritin and it has helped a significant amount. It hasn't made the symptoms go away, by any means. However the improvement is enough so that he can have normalcy.

Poor Hubby got his first root canal. I'd point and laugh, except that I got mine even earlier.

My company did not win it's recompete. So I'm in limbo right now and trying to decide what it is I actually want to do with my life. After all, "Trust Fund Baby" isn't an option. I don't forsee any problems getting another job, as I already have viable prospects. But I still take this as an opportunity to reflect and get direction.

And many other things are up in the air as well...including now our baby plans. Awaiting both some medical test results and for me to be in a situation where I'd have maternity benefits by the start of next spring.

Here's waiting for May--A month of resolutions????