Let's go down to...

Wonderful Husband’s boss is extremely involved in politics and always has tickets to this, a table at that. WH sometimes offers us up to fill a seat or use tickets when extras are available. He thinks it will be “fun.” I tend to think these events are a form of cruel and unusual punishment.

Contrary to popular belief, most political events aren’t fun. Seeing a candidate you really like at his only stop in town might be enjoyable, going to a political event a few times a year might be invigorating, attending these events a few times a month – not so much fun. When you frequent these events you start to hear the same speech, no matter who the speaker; see the same yucky political hacks smoozing it up- sometimes remembering you, sometimes not depending on their needs; eat the same crappy hotel chicken; have the same conversations with the people who attend every single one of these things ; debate the same people on why you think Kerry is not going to win in your state – it is a conservative place, it isn’t happening. I could go on and on.

Last night I got “the” call around 5:30 as I was leaving work. “My boss isn’t going to X and really wants the seats to be used. He offered them to us. What do you think?” Well, I hate always saying no, had a moment of weakness and said, “If you want to.” He wanted to. We hung up and it dawned on me just how exhausted I was. This was no normal event; it was a concert fundraiser which meant a late night. Not a good thing for a pregnant woman. Standing, rocking out, smoke, etc…. what had I done?

After my childish fit about being too tired to go, we arrived and realized we were in the VIP section. Well, WH’s boss was in the VIP section - we were his surrogates. This meant chairs – things were looking up. Not only were we in the VIP section, we were in the front row, our seats directly next to the candidate this concert was benefiting. (This makes leaving early hard.) In the end, fun prevailed and we had a great time. We got to see a legendary group up close and personal and danced with all the big time donors sitting around us. Parts were a little surreal but it was fun.

Last night was another example of how I need to learn to loosen up a bit and just allow things to be fun if they have the potential to be. That being said, a political fundraiser in a hotel ballroom with no windows, crappy food, and expensive drinks is never fun… no one can convince me otherwise.

Calm interrupted

Last night I went to my prenatal yoga class which is held in a small one room studio.

Picture this:

Nine obviously pregnant women in deep relaxation poses near the end of the class, lights out, calming music. A guy bursts in, walks into the classroom and loudly asks, “Do you guys sell lottery tickets?”

You can’t make stuff like that up.

unhappy birthday

The last few days have found me nervous and very worried that something is wrong with the Bean. I feel there has been a sharp decline in her movement which has me a nervous wreck and constantly jiggling my tummy to see if I can awake her from her slumber.

Wonderful Husband is turning 30 in a few weeks. We have been going back and forth on how best to celebrate. It is becoming a painful process. Normally, I would have thought up something months ago and had everything planned to a T. This year, that just isn’t going to happen. I have the brain capacity of a fly and making decisions does not come easy. I feel bad for Wonderful Husband; he deserves a huge celebration.

Today we both realized why we can’t focus on his birthday and why I am constantly walking around jabbing my tummy.

His birthday will mark the almost one year anniversary of my miscarriage. I started spotting and knew there was a problem a few days before his last birthday. The doctor told me to take it easy and I actually stayed home from the birthday dinner we had planned with a group of friends. We told people I was under the weather. Instead, I was sitting at home on the couch crying my eyes out. He didn’t want to be at the dinner, I didn’t want to be alone – it was a shitty birthday.

My miscarriage didn’t happen that day. Actually, it physically occurred about five days later -after one ultrasound showed a heart beat and another, three days later, showed nothing. One second you are a mom and then you aren’t. I can’t describe my grief.

I am a pessimist to the core. It scares me to say things are going well with this pregnancy. I think that is why I always list one negative thing when people ask how I am feeling. I know, from experience, your world can be turned upside down when you least expect it.

I try not to hold regrets for what was lost and I do believe things happen for a reason. I have tried to only look forward in this pregnancy and not focus on what was. I don’t long for the baby we didn’t have – I long for this baby, the Bean. I want this time to pass and to hold this kiddo in my arms. I want to see her breathe and for her to keep breathing long past my time.

I want everything to be okay.

UMA...

I am thinking that it is worth a flight to Chicago to attend an Oprah taping. Can you believe all those people got new cars? Watching their reactions reminded me of the SNL skit of one of her birthday give away shows. The only thing missing in real life was someone fainting. I think it is fabulous!

In Pregnancy news…

This morning Grumpy Girl reappeared. Maybe she was woken up by the extreme charlie horse that had me screaming at 3am or maybe it was the Adorable Dog puking in her crate at 5 am and then stealthily licking it up before we could get out of bed to clean it up. Whatever it was, she is back. Wonderful Husband is busy and not able to properly focus on cajoling Grumpy Girl to hit the road.

I just realized that I have 100 days to go until my due date. YIKES!

Wake up...

Saturday was such a productive day. My laundry list of things we “needed” to accomplish this weekend was cut in half. I was incredibly impressed by our focus and went to sleep thinking that we would get everything done after similar activity on Sunday. I credit my own energy on Saturday to the prenatal yoga class I took that morning- it was wonderful. I think Wonderful Husband kept up with me because he didn’t feel he could claim to need a nap when his pregnant wife was running strong.

Sunday was a new day. Wonderful Husband woke up and decided to work on law school applications. I decided I would lie in bed a bit longer- three hours later I woke up. WH hadn’t really done much on his applications; though he made a fancy list of all the schools he could likely get into. We then went through the schools and decided on where he would apply based on where we want to live. We already had an idea of where he wanted to apply but felt the need to start that process over – we are bad about exploring ALL our options over and over and over.

I think I finally showered at 3pm on Sunday. Then I lounged around watching TV. At about 5pm I left the house for the first time to accompany WH to the season opener for our football team. We had a great time.

Oh in case anyone had any doubt, John Kerry is so going to lose. The ENTIRE, sold out stadium stood at the first listen of one of Toby Keith’s butt kicking American songs. Like the damn thing was the national anthem. This was after I had heard that in a recent poll, American women are almost evenly split on who to support in the election and that their number one concern was safety from terrorists. Forget women’s rights, head start funding cuts, WIC funding cuts, the new overtime rules, public education funding, the wage gap, increased air pollution that has caused a sharp increase in allergies and severe asthma in children, lack of health care, lack of senior citizen support and all the other things that affect their daily lives. Nope, someone in Abilene, Texas with two jobs, three kids, and no health care is more concerned with a terrorist attack. I lived through the attacks of Sept. 11th – I am not trivializing them. But give me a fucking break, ladies - No one is going to do anything to you in that Podunk town but these policies affect your life and your children. Wake up before it is too late.

Namaste

Tomorrow morning, I am finally going to a prenatal yoga class. When I got pregnant I had all sorts of grandiose dreams of working out regularly and finding a yoga class to attend.

Flash-forward 25 weeks, my pregnancy exercise routine has been an extra trip to the freezer almost every night for an ice cream bar.

Demoted

Wonderful Husband ain’t so wonderful today.

Why do you think I would jump for joy when you tell me you have decided to work on a political campaign for the next two months (which means working 24/7) and that someone else will be taking over your “real job” duties in your absence?

Forgive me for being a little pissed off. We are only having a child in four months, have a million things we need to get done, about to embark on a big landscaping project and who knows what will happen to your job after someone else has been doing it for 2+ months in your absence. Oh, and you will not be home until 9pm or later each night and will now be working both Saturday and Sunday. FOR NO EXTRA PAY!!!! All while I get bigger and bigger, more uncomfortable, my energy continues to plummet and I physically can’t do half of the projects we need to get done.

Yes, wise one, I "should" head your advice and “RELAX!”

Tree Trunks

My ankles look like tree trunks. A frightening picture appears when I think of what my feet and ankles will look like when I am 9 months.

I have no idea what I am going to do when I can no longer wear flip flops. Isn’t this supposed to happen later in pregnancy?