Yelled at again

I just do not know what to say - there is no room for mistake, hormones or grief. I get yelled at for any lapse in language, telling a pregnancy joke to a group of friends, when someone that works with my husband is there. I am so fucking sick of getting yelled at. I am so fucking sick of crying. The only thing that keeps me here is my son's love for his dad. My sliver of love for him feels so slight that it would be so easy to break that tie and - RUN. That is what people to do my husband - they run from him. Once you actually know him, love him - he is a walking trainwreck of a human being who does not care if he hurts you.

Breaking the Pregnancy News at Work

Anxiety…is like a vice grip on your throat, closing it, making it difficult to swallow, pumping your tear ducts into overdrive, causing clear fluid to drip out of your nostrils and a rapid heart beat.

Today, I came clean. I figured that I have received an excellent mid-probation performance review, so I should tell my boss that I am pregnant.  My probation was done the next day – I would be fine. 

I had a flashback to when I was interviewing for this job 6 months ago. I sought my Aunt’s advice because she is at the top of the hierarchy in the same system that I was hoping to work for. I was at the time – pregnant (the baby I miscarried at 6.5 weeks). She laughed that I even thought it was a concern. She said, we understand that you young women are going to get pregnant – it is not something to hide – it is something to celebrate.  Besides, she said, there are anti-discrimination laws protecting you.

So, I told my boss. Stupidly.  She feigned happiness. She said she suspected and was glad I was honest with her. I told her I was not trying to be dishonest and filled her in on my history of miscarriages. I told her I had wanted to just make it to my first trimester screening (coming up this Monday).  She ended the conversation by letting me know that she might have to extend my probation because of this, she would run it by her boss first.

I panicked as I headed back to my desk. I quickly drafted an email letting her know that I could fill in over the Christmas holidays as people we on vacation. I did not want this to be an issue that makes it difficult for my coworkers.  She wrote back, “Absolutely not!  Sorry, baby trumps all else.  We will make it work.” I emailed in return, “Yeah – but I might need to come in for a day or two! It would not be an issue – and it might be a good way to transition back as I would ending the near of my time off – I thought I would offer! “That is me – trying not to be a problem.

That is it – that single declaration she uttered about extending my probationary period is giving me so much anxiety. I have completely lost any trust I had for my boss. I am so freaked out right now, when I should be thrilled. Happy that I have made it to my 12^th week of pregnancy – complication free, but no I am panicking over the fate of my Job.

Not sure

Not me, but captures the general feeling. Oh and if  you do not
know who this is, you are too young to read my blog

I have been thinking a lot today about this blog; what it is that I want to do with it. I am so terribly confused most of the time. Not like confused due to Dementia or any deteriorating mental health condition; I am just not
one of those women who has anything in her life figured out. To top that off, I am very not feeling very happy in my marriage. Sometimes, the anger I feel toward him, creeps up and I want to puke all over him, but instead
is comes out in the form of ignoring him; tuning him out and when his annoying voice become too much to annoy, I am short with him.

This pales in comparison to the treatment I get from him on a regular basis. I have written about it before - the yelling! If I dare to be short with him, I get hit upside the head with so much anger, it is like a much like a dog in fight with a wolf, there is no match, so the dog just whimpers. Why is that an issue for a mommy blog? Well, because he just plain does not care if he is yelling at me in FRONT of our child!

I know from everything I have read that children need to feel loved, secure, safe and to feel as though they have opportunities to explore and try new things. Many parents worry if yelling at children can hurt them - but how often do they stop and think about the way in which yelling at your partner in front of your child affects them.

From an adult perspective if someone has a loud argument in front of me then it does not make me feel any less loved, but it makes me feel like I am not secure or safe. I believe children are intuitive little humans and can feel their parents' anger and it can make children fearful. If parents shout at each other, young children may not understand that they are safe and it can be terrifying, especially if one of the parents is the constant aggressor and the other parent (me) gets upset so the children no longer feel safe in the care of the people they trust to look after them. A deeper look might reveal if parents often criticize each other in front of the child it can endanger the child's security and damage their confidence in themselves - because each parent is part of them as well. Regardless, if a family member is yelling at the other parent, children may not learn to be good listeners and or give others a chance to talk.

Break it down to the individual children - children differ in their ability to cope with noise and shouting. I have a friend whose daughter covers her ears when there is loud noise or conversation around her. I have another friend whose overly aggressive toddler spent his childhood watching his mom get yelled at all of the time. I have seen some children seem not to notice it very much; others will wince when they hear loud voices and are obviously upset by them. These children can be made fearful if there is a lot of yelling. When we fight our son a normally boisterous child becomes withdrawn and quiet. This does not stop my husband, who has a natural tendency to not think about other people, or their time; or time in general; unless someone is infringing on HIS time.

It is this behavior of his that turns me off, I am repulsed by his touch, not because I am not attracted physically to him - but his constant nagging, critisism and self centeredness is like a sex repelant. My happiest moments are when he walks out the door and I am not with him.

Cannot really talk about my miscarriage...Going dark for a bit

I do not want to talk, I am shutting the shades on my the window to my mind for a bit...

Oh yeah - I also went back to work...

So where did I leave off?

...I left off at the last nightmare, going in for a follow up ultrasound on the 21st. I was nervous, paranoid that all of my pregnancy symptoms had left me. My breasts, once sore and tender with darker nipples, were not sore and nipples were pink again. I know my body, I knew I was not pregnant, but ever the opti-pessimist, I attempted to suppress the reality.

I went in for the appointment. They had moved to a new location, I remember thinking about how nice the new office is, then I went into the much larger ultrasound room.  I had an vaginal ultrasound. The tech, an woman in her late 50s, was kind. She took some measurements of my ovaries, the wait was driving me nuts, I did not care about my fucking ovaries - what of my pregnancy. Then she went to look for the baby, ahh, found it. She took some measurements, ever the concerned look on her face. She turned on the microphone. There was a dead, hollow sound that filled the room, she did not let it stay on for long, shook her head and ended the ultrasound. I can still hear that sound, the sound of the absence of sound.  She told nicely to get dressed, she was going to get my midwife.

I waited, I knew. I called my husband, told him there was not good news. He told me now was the time to freak out, be upset, now that we have scientific evidence that something was wrong. I gather he did not trust my womanly intuition. My midwife came in, knew I had been crying, put her hand on my shoulder and said she was sorry. I asked her to speak to my husband, she took the phone, told us that there was still no heartbeat, and just as concerning, the fetus did not grow from the previous week. We guess the baby died two weeks ago at 6 1/2 weeks. That my LMP date was probably correct. Regardless, the diagnosis was a missed miscarriage...

My options were to either wait, go in for a D&C or take Misoprostol to induce the "abortion" of the dead fetus. We opted for the drug, a D & C is too invasive (again) and waiting is not the best option when your interviewing for jobs and chasing a toddler around. Neat and tidy decision, she handed the phone back to me. I told my husband I would call him later.

I am filled with sadness, need a hug. I almost cannot process this. when my husband comes home and drones on about his day, with little acknowledgment of OUR loss. I want to throw something at his head. I hold it in. My agner at his indifference with come out some other way. I need to hold it together, I have a job interview tomorrow. Weekend plans: to have a miscarriage.

So my next post with be about my Misoprostol miscarriage.

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Reality sets in...

So last Wednesday, I had an ultrasound. I should have been 7 1/2 weeks along according to my last menstrual period (LMP). According to the ultrasound, I measured at 6 1/2. In and of itself, not a big deal, except combined with the fact that the tech was unable to find a heartbeat. I waiting for the radiologist. She came in and told me that it could just be that the baby is not far enough along to get a heartbeat. She felt it was best for me to come in for a follow up ultrasound a week later.  My heart was breaking inside. I am fairly in tune with my body, I knew that despite no cramping or bleeding something was wrong. My breasts had been tender and the nipples had turned dark. I noticed that they did not seem as tender and the nipples were getting lighter. My husband did not seem to want to talk about it until the follow up ultrasound. I really did not have anyone to share things with (still do not).

I carried on for a dreadfully slow week. Despite the midwife's orders not to do anything stress, my husband did nothing but unload stress upon me, not giving any room for my hormonal mistakes, or emotional responses. His needs were higher than mine and he needed to make sure I knew it (again, not talking about my child). The weekend before my follow up ultrasound was terrible, despite attempts to create a stress free environment, enjoy time with my toddler, my husband decided it was the weekend to call me out on my mistakes and beat them all to death in repetitive conversation.  I am having a hard time forgiving him for that. lucky for him, I love him.


The weekend is over, I know something is wrong, I try talking about it, but my husband tells me to be optimistic. He does not want to have the conversation until we know something.

Busy week, visited a couple daycares. I want to write a post about childcare, it feels like the hardest decision I have to make. I have a second job interview on Thursday (tomorrow). 

Finally Wednesday has arrived. My mom picks me up and we head to my appointment...

I will have to finish my post in a later post, getting to painful to write and my son is waking up from his nap.

All I (me, myself and I) need is love...

Scared...bad news..need hug. I need someone to tell me they are sorry this is happening to me. Scary news...no news. No moving forward, just waiting...no hugs, no love. Sadness.

Help Wanted: Tired Mom needs SLEEP!

It is true, so exhausted, I want to throw up, it is days like this if I had a job I would call in sick, still bring my child to daycare and crawl back into bed and stay there as long as possible. I went to sleep around 2:30am, only to be woken up by a screaming toddler, clearly having a nightmare, around 5am, calmly I went in to sing him back to lala land, stumbling back to my bed, waking up to the alarm clock (for my husband) at 6am.

My husband, who would prefer to oversleep, needed me to nag him to awake, then make coffee, since he slept 1/2 past the alarm clock. I wake up, dutifully make him coffee and lunch, then attempt to snooze on the couch. At that time, my husband, having to go up our creaky steps to get his work clothes, accidently wakes up our son, placed him next to me on the couch. I get up, get him some milk, as I watch him greedily suck it down, I begin the slow process of realizing that my day has begun, like it, or NOT!

I succumb to the coffee, let it in, and still nothing...little brain activity. Sleep will be the only thing to bring that back, sweet blissful sleep, only 4 hours to naptime...