Eh. Not much going on. I'm thankful for that. I told a man I was gay today on the bus. I must not look that pregnant because he believed me. He was drunk or something and kept telling me how sexy I was. Which is flattering, but I had on my "Have a gay day" t-shirt and my purse that's covered in rainbows. I hate it when men try to talk to me when I'm obviously trying to pretend I'm gay. Lol.
So I talked to both of my grandmothers yesterday. That was good. I tried to tell my dad's mom the day I found out but she's been in Atlantic city with her boyfriend. That freaks me the fuck out. They're old. And probably doing it. I asked her once if they kiss and she started giggling and blushing. Blech. At any rate, she's happy for me. She had much counsel but she's always been the type of woman who relishes mistakes because you learn from them. She said it was gonna happen sooner or later, its obvious that Eric and I want to be together, and that she has complete faith in mine and Eric's(that was bad grammar) ability to raise our child. I hadn't known that when she had my father she was still in her parents house. She gives off this aura of a woman who has always and will always have her shit together. I'm proud to be her grandaughter and happy that at least, if nothing else, I was able to have my child before she inevitably passes. I look forward to knowing my child will be a better person learning from her.
Now I feel bad because I don't have such great stuff to say about my mother's mom. It's funny. You'd think that it'd be the other way around....my dads mom being my mom's mom and vice versa. Oh well. She congratulated me which was...very unexpected. She's a very traditional type of woman and I thought she'd be crying for me. I know she's really disappointed but as long as she doesn't act all weird around me I'll be fine. I still love her and shit. She just wanted to know how much weight I've gained and all those boring little details. She didn't once ask me how I felt about it. I wish I could talk to her about it. I'd love to have that connection with my grandmother.
One day at a time i guess. Baby keeps kicking the shit out of me. That sucks.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Oh Lord.
Lots of shit going on these past few days. On Sunday,while on my way to work, I started having pains in my stomach. When the baby moved, I would have like a short sharp pain followed by extreme discomfort. Not pleasant. I couldn't deal with the customers at the window because my posture was so bad and I looked sick. It was my choice though so I don't feel too bad. It kept going on all day. I'd be sitting and then boom! baby moves, I'm in pain. It hurt to the point of tears. So I told my mom. She immediatly suggested a trip to the emergency room for fear of miscarriage.
And that's when my world started falling apart. The physical pain was absoluetly nothing compared to the mental grief that the thought of losing this child brought. I just found out I'm pregnant and now I had to think about losing it? I've been going through countless name lists, websites filled with information on having a healthy pregnancy, changed my eating habits, STOPPED SMOKING,....and now you want to tell me I might lose it? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?!?! So I cried. And cried and cried and cried. And I know the people in the emergency room thought that I was in dire pain and in need of serious and immediate medical care, but I didn't have it in me to reassure them or my mother that the pain I could deal with. The loss of my child....well thats another thing all together.
So we sat at waited. I was there for 6 hours. Missed the Oscars in its entirety. (I don't care about the awards. I love to see what people are wearing. The mistakes are the highlight of my day!) I hate the hospital by the way. I really truly do. I had an iv stuck in me for the first time and a lot of blood drawn.....that sucked. I had to close my eyes and hold my mothers hand. They kept asking me all these questions and I just wanted to shout "JUST TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH MY BABY!!" I have more self control that that though. Turns out, my baby is breech.
"A breech presentation occurs when the baby presents feet first as opposed to head first. Because a breech presentation can lead to complications during delivery, it is preferable to help the baby turn so that it is in the head first position prior to birth."
I'm not fucking happy about that.
I don't want complications. But I am grateful of the fact that I am not miscarrying and my baby is otherwise quite healthy. I also found out I am 20 weeks pregnant instead of my previously forecasted 17. I'm flippin 5 months pregnant. What the holy shitfuck. I have 4 months to get ready for this....experience.
But alas, I am not finished with my tale! So on my way home I'm happy that we're ok but stressing about only having 4 months and telling my father that I'm pregnant. Initially, he handled it better than I anticipated. I really thought I was going to be dead or put out. He just repeated my name over and over, told me I was a statistic, and that that's what happens when you play with fire. Blah bliggety. Yesterday, I'm watching my 4 year old niece when decides it would be the perfext time to shatter my confidence level and destroy my psyche. With my niece standing right there. He's pretty much the most hateful person I've ever had the displeasure of knowing. He tells me that I shouldn't tell people I'm pregnant because its not something to be proud of its something I should be ashamed of. That I'm stupid and need to thank my lucky fucking stars that he's gracious enough to let me stay in his house. That I'll be on welfare for the rest of my life. I told him that I really didn't need his negativity and he laughed at me and said that as long as I was living here I'd have to deal with it. "Or," he said with his eyes sparkling the way only a tyrants can when they're knowingly ruining lives "you can leave." I really hate him. Eric says don't let him touch the baby but I can't stop him from doing whatever it is he wants. Thats another story though.
I end up crying even more. My eyes really fucking hurt by the way. I haven't cried this much since my grandfather died. I escaped to Eric's house. Where his mother showed me all the gracious, loving-kindness I think everyone should recieve. Especially when they're pregnant. I felt doted on. She went and got me some ice cream and cake....which was delicious and much appreciated. And Eric felt our child move for the first time. I was scared at first because I thought it would scare him senseless, but he was as excited as I was. AND WE HAD SEX!! I really needed that. It was different because it was the first time since we've known I'm pregnant. It felt very technical....almost back to basics. Not to say it wasn't good.....it was amazing as usual....but it lacked passion. I guess I'll have to get used to that until we get comfortable and know which postions don't hurt me and all that shit. But I was glad I could be with him and feel like we know what we're doing and that everything will be alright. I'm so happy that he makes me so comfortable. He's still a filthy pervert but I love him.
In conclusion, I hope I have no more whirlwind days like these past 2. I'm cried out and wish I had a nice fat ass blunt to smoke. Oh well. I set up a doctors appointment at Maryland General Hospital for next Tuesday at 12. I'm, of course, nervous, but thats because I don't have my birth certificate or id. The id is in the mail though and the bc will be soon. It'll work itself out.
20 WEEKS AND COUNTING!!
And that's when my world started falling apart. The physical pain was absoluetly nothing compared to the mental grief that the thought of losing this child brought. I just found out I'm pregnant and now I had to think about losing it? I've been going through countless name lists, websites filled with information on having a healthy pregnancy, changed my eating habits, STOPPED SMOKING,....and now you want to tell me I might lose it? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?!?! So I cried. And cried and cried and cried. And I know the people in the emergency room thought that I was in dire pain and in need of serious and immediate medical care, but I didn't have it in me to reassure them or my mother that the pain I could deal with. The loss of my child....well thats another thing all together.
So we sat at waited. I was there for 6 hours. Missed the Oscars in its entirety. (I don't care about the awards. I love to see what people are wearing. The mistakes are the highlight of my day!) I hate the hospital by the way. I really truly do. I had an iv stuck in me for the first time and a lot of blood drawn.....that sucked. I had to close my eyes and hold my mothers hand. They kept asking me all these questions and I just wanted to shout "JUST TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH MY BABY!!" I have more self control that that though. Turns out, my baby is breech.
"A breech presentation occurs when the baby presents feet first as opposed to head first. Because a breech presentation can lead to complications during delivery, it is preferable to help the baby turn so that it is in the head first position prior to birth."
I'm not fucking happy about that.
I don't want complications. But I am grateful of the fact that I am not miscarrying and my baby is otherwise quite healthy. I also found out I am 20 weeks pregnant instead of my previously forecasted 17. I'm flippin 5 months pregnant. What the holy shitfuck. I have 4 months to get ready for this....experience.
But alas, I am not finished with my tale! So on my way home I'm happy that we're ok but stressing about only having 4 months and telling my father that I'm pregnant. Initially, he handled it better than I anticipated. I really thought I was going to be dead or put out. He just repeated my name over and over, told me I was a statistic, and that that's what happens when you play with fire. Blah bliggety. Yesterday, I'm watching my 4 year old niece when decides it would be the perfext time to shatter my confidence level and destroy my psyche. With my niece standing right there. He's pretty much the most hateful person I've ever had the displeasure of knowing. He tells me that I shouldn't tell people I'm pregnant because its not something to be proud of its something I should be ashamed of. That I'm stupid and need to thank my lucky fucking stars that he's gracious enough to let me stay in his house. That I'll be on welfare for the rest of my life. I told him that I really didn't need his negativity and he laughed at me and said that as long as I was living here I'd have to deal with it. "Or," he said with his eyes sparkling the way only a tyrants can when they're knowingly ruining lives "you can leave." I really hate him. Eric says don't let him touch the baby but I can't stop him from doing whatever it is he wants. Thats another story though.
I end up crying even more. My eyes really fucking hurt by the way. I haven't cried this much since my grandfather died. I escaped to Eric's house. Where his mother showed me all the gracious, loving-kindness I think everyone should recieve. Especially when they're pregnant. I felt doted on. She went and got me some ice cream and cake....which was delicious and much appreciated. And Eric felt our child move for the first time. I was scared at first because I thought it would scare him senseless, but he was as excited as I was. AND WE HAD SEX!! I really needed that. It was different because it was the first time since we've known I'm pregnant. It felt very technical....almost back to basics. Not to say it wasn't good.....it was amazing as usual....but it lacked passion. I guess I'll have to get used to that until we get comfortable and know which postions don't hurt me and all that shit. But I was glad I could be with him and feel like we know what we're doing and that everything will be alright. I'm so happy that he makes me so comfortable. He's still a filthy pervert but I love him.
In conclusion, I hope I have no more whirlwind days like these past 2. I'm cried out and wish I had a nice fat ass blunt to smoke. Oh well. I set up a doctors appointment at Maryland General Hospital for next Tuesday at 12. I'm, of course, nervous, but thats because I don't have my birth certificate or id. The id is in the mail though and the bc will be soon. It'll work itself out.
20 WEEKS AND COUNTING!!
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Until Further Notice...
I'm completely uncomfortable with having a living organism inside of me without a proper name. I know it's fetus or baby, but that's incredibly impersonal. It lives in me. So until Eric and I find out what the sex is, we have decided to call our baby "Alex". I suggest you do the same. I don't really like that name so I hope it doesn't become attached to it. I read that now is when the fetus' hearing is starting to develop. I've started putting my ipod on my belly. Lots of Lauryn Hill and Musiq Soulchild for this baby. Eric wants to have Alex listen to fucking Charles Hamilton. I really can't stand him. Not him personally, but Eric talks with his dick in his mouth and that's incredibly frustrating for me.
I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. I can't find a single boy name that I like. I want it (if it is male) to be a strong name. But not ethnic. I hate those nigga names like "Jevonte" or "Dazhawn". Typing that actually made me a little sick..... But I don't want a caucasian name either....no "Owen" or "Chad" for my baby. I know in my heart its a boy. I want a girl. I've already been thinkin about "Antionette" or "Imala". I absoluetly love the name Imala. Its Native American and it means strength or something. And it sounds good with Eric's last name. Antionette stems from my obsession with french culture. In fact, I asked my brother to download a french speaking program for me. I think it'd be cool to learn and then teach to our child.....I want a highly cultured baby. I know....aim high.
I'm feeling pretty ok. My memory is being affected horribly. I forgot Eric's birthday! He was pissed. I felt like a stupid man. Well....a man period. Thats not something you're supposed to forget. At work I was on the phone with a customer who told me all of her information and I just blanked. I was like "....Wait, what'd you say?!". Fortunately she thought it was due to the noise in the background. I'm just losing it. Went to WIC yesterday. Got approved. Now I get 6 free gallons of milk a month. That.....is a lot of fucking milk. I appreciate it. And the free peanut butter, and cheese, and juice(100% juice too!!), and beans and shit. No I'm joking. I don't eat shit. I thought they set you up with medical coverage or something. I was wrong. Oh how wrong I was....and I was embarrased. Now I have to find a place to get a fucking doctors appointment. I just want Alex to be healthy and know that he/she's healthy. I have extreme guilt because I've been smoking this entire time without knowing I was pregnant. My baby is gonna have 6 heads or something.
A couple of onsies I thought were cute. And asexual.
Something I can't stop thinking about is grammar. Eric has pretty ok grammar, but we live in this horrible education deprived city. I cannot stress the importance of speaking clearly and correctly enough and I'm scared my child will have a lazy tongue. I know its way too early to be thinking about grammar but give me a fucking break. I'm pregnant.
Oh and Eric eats like a pig. Thats for all of his followers to know. Its really nasty and when we're on the phone and he chews it sounds like....like....wet sticky cum covered bals slapping against hot pavement. I KNOW RIGHT?!?! I had to get that off my chest.
I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. I can't find a single boy name that I like. I want it (if it is male) to be a strong name. But not ethnic. I hate those nigga names like "Jevonte" or "Dazhawn". Typing that actually made me a little sick..... But I don't want a caucasian name either....no "Owen" or "Chad" for my baby. I know in my heart its a boy. I want a girl. I've already been thinkin about "Antionette" or "Imala". I absoluetly love the name Imala. Its Native American and it means strength or something. And it sounds good with Eric's last name. Antionette stems from my obsession with french culture. In fact, I asked my brother to download a french speaking program for me. I think it'd be cool to learn and then teach to our child.....I want a highly cultured baby. I know....aim high.
I'm feeling pretty ok. My memory is being affected horribly. I forgot Eric's birthday! He was pissed. I felt like a stupid man. Well....a man period. Thats not something you're supposed to forget. At work I was on the phone with a customer who told me all of her information and I just blanked. I was like "....Wait, what'd you say?!". Fortunately she thought it was due to the noise in the background. I'm just losing it. Went to WIC yesterday. Got approved. Now I get 6 free gallons of milk a month. That.....is a lot of fucking milk. I appreciate it. And the free peanut butter, and cheese, and juice(100% juice too!!), and beans and shit. No I'm joking. I don't eat shit. I thought they set you up with medical coverage or something. I was wrong. Oh how wrong I was....and I was embarrased. Now I have to find a place to get a fucking doctors appointment. I just want Alex to be healthy and know that he/she's healthy. I have extreme guilt because I've been smoking this entire time without knowing I was pregnant. My baby is gonna have 6 heads or something.
A couple of onsies I thought were cute. And asexual.
Something I can't stop thinking about is grammar. Eric has pretty ok grammar, but we live in this horrible education deprived city. I cannot stress the importance of speaking clearly and correctly enough and I'm scared my child will have a lazy tongue. I know its way too early to be thinking about grammar but give me a fucking break. I'm pregnant.
Oh and Eric eats like a pig. Thats for all of his followers to know. Its really nasty and when we're on the phone and he chews it sounds like....like....wet sticky cum covered bals slapping against hot pavement. I KNOW RIGHT?!?! I had to get that off my chest.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Soooo.....I'm Fucking Pregnant.
And honestly? I'm terrified. I've never been so scared in my life. But it's like an exhilirating fear....like what i imagine you'd feel before you jump off a cliff of dive from a plane. Or at least know you're going to do so in about 5 months. I'm assuming I'm approximately 4 months. Apparently, thats when milk starts leaking out the nips, and that totally happened. I still have to confirm at the doctors. I just know they're gonna tell me I'm 5 months and I'm gonna cry. Thats no time at all....... At least Eric's in this with me. I couldn't have asked for a better baby daddy. That feels so horrible to say. I wanted to be married and have my own place...well our own place......I wanted so much more than what i have. But I know the best thing you can give a kid is love and blah, blah, blah.
So I guess the nausea has passed. Before I even knew i was fucking pregnant. And Eric says he knew then. Well whoopdee fucking doo for him. I'll admit to denial. The thought of it scared the piss out of me. And now....the little flutters I feel in my stomach.....they scare me even more. I'm responsible for the well being of this human. This tiny, immobile, unable to speak, or walk, or dress itself little human. And I have to fucking name it too. That kept me awake last night. It feels weird knowing someone incredibly intimately and not even knowing thier name. I DON'T KNOW MY BABY'S NAME!!! Shit, at this point, I don't even know the sex. That is frustrating as hell.
That's what it should look like now. I can't wait til I'm all big and pregnant so I can go take pregnant pictures!!!!
I guess I want to keep a log of what I'm feeling and what we're doing as my pregnancy continues. I told Eric he's in charge of photographing my belly as it gets bigger and i plan on putting baby shower pictures up and shit like that. I don't really expect much from this blog. I just want to have something to show my child one day and say "Look at all the grief you caused me you petulant sack of penis bits!!". Well maybe not that exactly but along those lines.
So I guess the nausea has passed. Before I even knew i was fucking pregnant. And Eric says he knew then. Well whoopdee fucking doo for him. I'll admit to denial. The thought of it scared the piss out of me. And now....the little flutters I feel in my stomach.....they scare me even more. I'm responsible for the well being of this human. This tiny, immobile, unable to speak, or walk, or dress itself little human. And I have to fucking name it too. That kept me awake last night. It feels weird knowing someone incredibly intimately and not even knowing thier name. I DON'T KNOW MY BABY'S NAME!!! Shit, at this point, I don't even know the sex. That is frustrating as hell.
That's what it should look like now. I can't wait til I'm all big and pregnant so I can go take pregnant pictures!!!!
I guess I want to keep a log of what I'm feeling and what we're doing as my pregnancy continues. I told Eric he's in charge of photographing my belly as it gets bigger and i plan on putting baby shower pictures up and shit like that. I don't really expect much from this blog. I just want to have something to show my child one day and say "Look at all the grief you caused me you petulant sack of penis bits!!". Well maybe not that exactly but along those lines.
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