That's what I have been doing since this whole sickness thing started. Not the being pregnant sickness, the hypermese something-or-other sickness started. I am not a fan, in fact I down right hate it. With a Picc Line in my arm, and a daily IV that takes four hours to do, there isn't much of my day left (depending on when I woke up.) Not only does it keep me on the couch for such a long time, it also made me jobless. Yes, like I needed anymore issue going on in my life - let us add no income to the mix. My doctor doesn't want me working with the Picc Line in my arm. Which though I can understand - she isn't the one that has no job now.
I haven't heard from the baby daddy in a while, which is good because I don't think him adding stress to my life is a good thing. Though I have heard that he has changed his mind once more and wants to go for custody. I wonder why? Oh, wait, it must be because he doesn't want to pay child support to yet another person. Not my problem, he can have a lovely time trying to get custody - it won't work. But because he has changed his mind again, I now have to go meet with a lawyer. About what I can do now, and what I am going to need to do later. This is turning into a drama fest; I really wish it wasn't.
Now that I took a break from health I thought I'd go back to it for a minute. Not only did I find out that I am still losing weight even with the fluids and eating. It makes me want to rip my hair out. But I also found out that I am so anemic (which I knew I was anemic before - but apparently it's even worse than) and if I don't get it up, then yay I will need to get a blood transfusion after giving birth. She even said it wouldn't matter either way, C-section or Normal, it would need to happen. What the heck, where are all the good times that ate suppose to come from being pregnant? My friend made a joke about pregnancy glow and she is like you have it... it's just most like a ghost-ish kind of glow. Gee thanks.
However, there is a shiny silver lining - I am passing my classes. Which is always a plus considering everything I am going through. And I only needed to miss one class because of all these issues. Granted I forced myself to go to them - but at least I made it through this term. Not only did I make it through the term I most likely made the President's List at that. I am very excited about this.
Another silver lining - that goes along with only needed to do school work next term - and not have to work, is NANOWRIMO! It means I can spend time actually doing it. Not just thrown together at the last minute with hopes that it sounds good, nope this will be the whole even-though-I-am-flying-by-the-seat-of-my-pants-it-will-make-sense-anyway type of writing this year. Which will definitely make me happy.
Well that's a quick update on everything that is going on. Well the shortened versions anyway. There is probably waaaaay more I could write, but it's not worth it because it's not weighing on my mind right now.
Just remember for every negative, there is also a silver lining plus hiding in the background. You just need to find it and catch it =)
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Monday, October 15, 2012
Forever and... Beyond?
I don't know why, but those three words are stuck in my head. Forever and Beyond. It's like I was watching Toy Story and it froze and restart right at that part, over and over again. Maybe, nerves are getting in the way, maybe my thoughts are taking over, maybe, maybe, maybe. My mind is filled with maybes and that small simple phase.
It could be that I have been trying to write again, and getting into that zone, but truly my mind doesn't settle well with that idea. No, it likes to settle with the idea that maybe (oh here I go again), just maybe I am having doubts about everything around me. The mind - which speaks for itself most of the time- has agreed with that statement. Doubt it my biggest issue, the one I need to run past it. I need to run straight to the end zone (or something of that nature) and forget all the doubts that come running at me, trying to tackle me down. I don't do football, so here is to hoping I got the jest of it right. Probably not (HA! Doubt again.)
Maybe, I will be a good mom. Maybe, I can patch some of the issues my ex and I have... not that I want to get back together with him, but more so there is that back up when it comes to discipline. Maybe, my mom is right and I am not being a burden. But maybe, just maybe, I am a burden to them. Maybe, I can't do this. Maybe, I can. Maybe, I just need to tell my mind to shut the eff up.
Either way, my mind is running wild - getting tackled, but at least getting back up again. And now I think I use too many commas (a real problem for me - which is why I hate them). Once again tackled from what I wished to say and now it's completely forgotten. The doubt is back, as are the maybes. I need my mind to shut down (and in truth I should be doing homework.)
Until next time: don't let your maybes or doubts tackle you to the ground.
It could be that I have been trying to write again, and getting into that zone, but truly my mind doesn't settle well with that idea. No, it likes to settle with the idea that maybe (oh here I go again), just maybe I am having doubts about everything around me. The mind - which speaks for itself most of the time- has agreed with that statement. Doubt it my biggest issue, the one I need to run past it. I need to run straight to the end zone (or something of that nature) and forget all the doubts that come running at me, trying to tackle me down. I don't do football, so here is to hoping I got the jest of it right. Probably not (HA! Doubt again.)
Maybe, I will be a good mom. Maybe, I can patch some of the issues my ex and I have... not that I want to get back together with him, but more so there is that back up when it comes to discipline. Maybe, my mom is right and I am not being a burden. But maybe, just maybe, I am a burden to them. Maybe, I can't do this. Maybe, I can. Maybe, I just need to tell my mind to shut the eff up.
Either way, my mind is running wild - getting tackled, but at least getting back up again. And now I think I use too many commas (a real problem for me - which is why I hate them). Once again tackled from what I wished to say and now it's completely forgotten. The doubt is back, as are the maybes. I need my mind to shut down (and in truth I should be doing homework.)
Until next time: don't let your maybes or doubts tackle you to the ground.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Pull your hair out... FRUSTRATED!
Frustrated, annoyed, pissed off, enraged... there are so many words to describe how I am feeling right now. It's true that my blog has many complaints- and in truth my brain doesn't do positivity easily, but I try. Naive I could most certainly be described as. Though when it comes to situation the whole positive thing doesn't come to mind, if it has to do with people - rules- the world as an outlook- positive in my mind is more likely than the negative; especially if it doesn't have anything to do with my as a person.
Which leads me to believe that this world is effed up. I am from a very proud family. We do things on our own, and take care of our own - with little to no help from anyone. And if we do get help, monetary wise; we almost always pay it back (sometimes it's giving as a gift instead of as a loan.) That is how it is in my help. It took me till my 4th month being pregnant before I went and got assistance from WIC. Which took alot on my part. So if you can imagine, the thought of me even going to apply for food stamps would be horrific on my part. But I needed to do what was best for my unborn child and me. There isn't always alot of food in my house (and sometimes none really at all) because other bills come first.
Sucking up my pride, I applied for state assistance - food stamps mostly. Well can you imagine my shock, frustration and yes, the feeling of defeat when I have my interview to see if I am eligible. I'm not, only because of one reason. My mother and father always told me to be a productive member of society. Which includes; working the best of your ability (and when being discriminated against at work kind be kind of hard,) get a better education, and doing right by those around you. There are other things like paying your bills on time, being responsible and respectful - and other things that going along with being the best person you could possibly be. So I work my nine hours every week, though I find it pointless at times, and I go to school full time to get an education and better my life, as well as for my unborn child. I don't always do right by those around me; but I'm working on it.
Which brings me back to that one reason. I don't qualify for food stamps because I work less than eighty hours a month (about 20 hours a week) and I am in school full-time. Apparently, school is a choice. Being enrolled full-time is a choice, and it's now your parent's responsibility to make up your lack of funds. Or I could go find another job. Please, someone tell me what company will hire an almost six month pregnant lady who has a lot of ailments with said pregnancy. I dare you, sure they won't say it's discrimination, and hell I give them the motivation. I can't lift over twenty-five pounds, most retail jobs you are required to lift at least fifty if not more.
In my mind I didn't get it. So I asked her. How can you expect me to have my parents take care of me and my child when they can barely afford food themselves? Or how is it possible for me to get another job when I can't do half the requirements? Or even why it is that those who are trying to better themselves or are doing the best they can, get shafted when it comes to state help; yet those who don't do anything but sit on their asses all day can get all the help in the world?
Don't get me wrong, not everyone with state help are lazy asses. In fact, I still believe that half the people who get help do truly need it because they are doing the best they can. But I can't help but think about most of my extended family members, or other people my age who are getting help but living off other people and not doing the best they can. It infuriates me when I see that. Then people wonder why it is a hot button type topic. I never wanted to think that things would be like this. I wanted to believe good in the system, but it seems that is not the case.
I know it is still just fresh in my mind, and I will go back to being naive. Though right now I am quite irritable about the problem, there is so much wrong with the scenario I don't even think it could get fixed. School is not an option anymore. Without education you will never get out of that dead end job, even to get into that management position you need some form of college education. Which makes me wonder when it won't be considered a choice to the state anymore, but something of necessity.
Always try to look on the bright side, but don't forget what was on the dark side so you will always be learning. That's my advice today.
Which leads me to believe that this world is effed up. I am from a very proud family. We do things on our own, and take care of our own - with little to no help from anyone. And if we do get help, monetary wise; we almost always pay it back (sometimes it's giving as a gift instead of as a loan.) That is how it is in my help. It took me till my 4th month being pregnant before I went and got assistance from WIC. Which took alot on my part. So if you can imagine, the thought of me even going to apply for food stamps would be horrific on my part. But I needed to do what was best for my unborn child and me. There isn't always alot of food in my house (and sometimes none really at all) because other bills come first.
Sucking up my pride, I applied for state assistance - food stamps mostly. Well can you imagine my shock, frustration and yes, the feeling of defeat when I have my interview to see if I am eligible. I'm not, only because of one reason. My mother and father always told me to be a productive member of society. Which includes; working the best of your ability (and when being discriminated against at work kind be kind of hard,) get a better education, and doing right by those around you. There are other things like paying your bills on time, being responsible and respectful - and other things that going along with being the best person you could possibly be. So I work my nine hours every week, though I find it pointless at times, and I go to school full time to get an education and better my life, as well as for my unborn child. I don't always do right by those around me; but I'm working on it.
Which brings me back to that one reason. I don't qualify for food stamps because I work less than eighty hours a month (about 20 hours a week) and I am in school full-time. Apparently, school is a choice. Being enrolled full-time is a choice, and it's now your parent's responsibility to make up your lack of funds. Or I could go find another job. Please, someone tell me what company will hire an almost six month pregnant lady who has a lot of ailments with said pregnancy. I dare you, sure they won't say it's discrimination, and hell I give them the motivation. I can't lift over twenty-five pounds, most retail jobs you are required to lift at least fifty if not more.
In my mind I didn't get it. So I asked her. How can you expect me to have my parents take care of me and my child when they can barely afford food themselves? Or how is it possible for me to get another job when I can't do half the requirements? Or even why it is that those who are trying to better themselves or are doing the best they can, get shafted when it comes to state help; yet those who don't do anything but sit on their asses all day can get all the help in the world?
Don't get me wrong, not everyone with state help are lazy asses. In fact, I still believe that half the people who get help do truly need it because they are doing the best they can. But I can't help but think about most of my extended family members, or other people my age who are getting help but living off other people and not doing the best they can. It infuriates me when I see that. Then people wonder why it is a hot button type topic. I never wanted to think that things would be like this. I wanted to believe good in the system, but it seems that is not the case.
I know it is still just fresh in my mind, and I will go back to being naive. Though right now I am quite irritable about the problem, there is so much wrong with the scenario I don't even think it could get fixed. School is not an option anymore. Without education you will never get out of that dead end job, even to get into that management position you need some form of college education. Which makes me wonder when it won't be considered a choice to the state anymore, but something of necessity.
Always try to look on the bright side, but don't forget what was on the dark side so you will always be learning. That's my advice today.
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Deep Breath In, Deep Breath Out...
That's what keeps running through my head. In and out, deep breaths. Don't freak, just chill.
With everything that is going on; all the stress, depression and anxiety it's a wonder anything gets done. Not that much gets done, since I only work nine hours a week and go to school twice a week. Yet, the stress comes, the depression runs amuck and anxiety is sky high.
In and out, deep breaths. Don't freak, just chill.
A writer with writer's block. A soon to be single mom completely overwhelmed. A daughter totally on edge. A sister with little patience. A friend who truly hasn't been there. A shell of the person I use to be.
In and out, deep breaths. Don't freak, just chill.
There isn't much to be done, to be said. Hardly anything stays down. No work gets done. Energy is non-exsistant within this body. Sleep doesn't come, though life doesn't stand still.
In and out, deep breaths. Don't freak, just chill. Best advice I can ever give.
With everything that is going on; all the stress, depression and anxiety it's a wonder anything gets done. Not that much gets done, since I only work nine hours a week and go to school twice a week. Yet, the stress comes, the depression runs amuck and anxiety is sky high.
In and out, deep breaths. Don't freak, just chill.
A writer with writer's block. A soon to be single mom completely overwhelmed. A daughter totally on edge. A sister with little patience. A friend who truly hasn't been there. A shell of the person I use to be.
In and out, deep breaths. Don't freak, just chill.
There isn't much to be done, to be said. Hardly anything stays down. No work gets done. Energy is non-exsistant within this body. Sleep doesn't come, though life doesn't stand still.
In and out, deep breaths. Don't freak, just chill. Best advice I can ever give.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Drum Roll Please...
Off to the doctors I went yesterday with my mom. We got there and sat around, like you normally would do at a doctor's office. Please someone, anyone, explain to me why they make you wait soooo long. Why are they always late? What is the point in that? Anyway, we get there and find out I have two appointments. One is an ultrasound and the other is with the special doctor person. Yet, wouldn't you know it both appointments are running late. Silly to think they would do anything on time in the afternoon.
While we are getting the ultra sound down, and taking forever might I add, we are chatting about the baby. And that's when it happens. We find out the gender. It was pretty cool. It's like the baby was listening to me and decided guess what I will let you know, just so you will shut the heck up.
This then leads to amazing text messages. Actually I am pretty sure twenty text messages were sent out one she was doing taking whatever they needed from me.
Next the specialist came in, and told me - much to my relief- that everything looked fine. The baby is growing healthy, though the weight may still be a little low. Seriously though, what did they expect? I throw up almost everything I eat. Of course, I am going to lose weight (and I lost another 2 pounds in 2 weeks) and the baby will be a tad underweight. Yet, I am still working on trying to keep the nutrients in my body.
There is still one concern though, other than the weight issue, and that would be the cramping. I have had bleeding and I am cramping all the time it seems. Along with lots of other issues, all of which go along with someone who is going to have a preterm labor. She told me not to stress about it right now, and that she has a feeling that I will at least make it to 8 months. That makes me feel a little better. At least then the baby will have a chance of being healthy-ish. Obviously, this makes me happy to hear. Though still a little scared, at least I know everything is going well for now.
And the moment you have all been waiting for (or maybe you're not and I'm making it up in my head)... Drum roll please *insert me banging on something obnoxious*
I am having a boy. His name will be Grayson Alexander Martin.
Until next time: Remember to do what makes you happy, and not what makes others happy. Because ultimately only you can make yourself the happiest. =)
While we are getting the ultra sound down, and taking forever might I add, we are chatting about the baby. And that's when it happens. We find out the gender. It was pretty cool. It's like the baby was listening to me and decided guess what I will let you know, just so you will shut the heck up.
This then leads to amazing text messages. Actually I am pretty sure twenty text messages were sent out one she was doing taking whatever they needed from me.
Next the specialist came in, and told me - much to my relief- that everything looked fine. The baby is growing healthy, though the weight may still be a little low. Seriously though, what did they expect? I throw up almost everything I eat. Of course, I am going to lose weight (and I lost another 2 pounds in 2 weeks) and the baby will be a tad underweight. Yet, I am still working on trying to keep the nutrients in my body.
There is still one concern though, other than the weight issue, and that would be the cramping. I have had bleeding and I am cramping all the time it seems. Along with lots of other issues, all of which go along with someone who is going to have a preterm labor. She told me not to stress about it right now, and that she has a feeling that I will at least make it to 8 months. That makes me feel a little better. At least then the baby will have a chance of being healthy-ish. Obviously, this makes me happy to hear. Though still a little scared, at least I know everything is going well for now.
And the moment you have all been waiting for (or maybe you're not and I'm making it up in my head)... Drum roll please *insert me banging on something obnoxious*
I am having a boy. His name will be Grayson Alexander Martin.
Until next time: Remember to do what makes you happy, and not what makes others happy. Because ultimately only you can make yourself the happiest. =)
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Tomorrow... Maybe Tomorrow...
I get to go have a special ultra sound done tomorrow - whatever that means. I guess when you are overweight and a high risk then you get to go see a special ultra sound technician. Which is what I get to do tomorrow. Of course, if my baby is in the mood to cooperate, I will hopefully know what the gender is. Not that it truly bugs me either way not knowing, but I do truly believe that it would be easier to shop knowing what gender I am looking for. Like would my child really appreciate a frilly, lacey white dress if it's a boy, or even a blue sailor outfit meant for a boy when truly I am having a girl. Things like that make me question the whole, I don't wish to know factor. Plus, my friends will all bug me, and I do need to admit that there is a small part of me that wishes to know. Enough, that this past week of not knowing when I should of last week... is killing me.
Now, who wants to hear some baby daddy drama - naw you won't get it from me. If you want that you should go watch Maury; I hear he has some woman looking for the father of their child for the .... mmmmm 2397545723401th time. =D
I could bore people with my baby drama, and no doubt I will later on. But right now, I am trying to be stress free - for the simple reason is I haven't been doing too well in the pregnancy arena. With the stress at work + the baby daddy issue + the high risk factor + not being able to sleep + throwing almost everything I eat up by the end of the night = One horrific first pregnancy.
So I have this theory. If all those girls from 16 and Pregnant or Teen Mom have had to go through what I am going through right now, then they wouldn't want it televised. Not only that, but if they were more like this and less making it glorified maybe other teens wouldn't think it would be cool to get pregnant. But as I see it most girls now see it as something that is cool - Thank you MTV. Sure Leah from Teen Mom season 1 had issues, but that was because of twins. And now she is dealing with what could even be some what considered normal for twins - health issues. But then you have the others, who continue doing what they do. Getting thrown into jail, getting pregnant again. How can we let this on our televisions? Why is it even being shown? And better yet, why, how, what is going through people's minds when they sit there and watch it. Most with their daughters. Sure, you could be saying don't do this, and if you ever do that I will kick your arse. But do you really think they are listening? Because I truly don't think so. All they are seeing is - OMG I CAN TOTALLY BE ON THIS SHOW AND FAMOUS IF I GET PREGGO.... -insert furious texting to recent boyfriend-
Again, all opinion. But come on, it's almost as bad as Toddlers in Tiaras. Some of the shows that come out now just frighten me. What will be coming for my child? Do I need to shield them from the television? With all the cyber bullying or just bullying in general. Children were cruel when I was growing up, and I have babysat since I was old enough to - they have just gotten worse. I am freaking out. I don't think I will be a good mother; let alone a good father as well. I just don't know what to do.
This means I am worrying and stressing over things I can't control. Things I shouldn't be worrying about right now - which makes the cramping worse, and my exhaustion even worse. Nothing is going the way I wish it too. I expected to have my degree by name, maybe a fiance or married, and definitely not living in my parents home. This person - still going to school, my baby daddy being ridiculously obnoxious, living in my parents home, and of course having issues with my job - was not suppose to be pregnant. I try to live by the saying; no regrets. And I don't regret being pregnant, for all I know this could be the only one I can have, but I regret alot of other things that I know I can't change. Means I am back to the drawing board.
Until next time my fellow bloggers- Live long and party hard? Lol or just live long =)
Now, who wants to hear some baby daddy drama - naw you won't get it from me. If you want that you should go watch Maury; I hear he has some woman looking for the father of their child for the .... mmmmm 2397545723401th time. =D
I could bore people with my baby drama, and no doubt I will later on. But right now, I am trying to be stress free - for the simple reason is I haven't been doing too well in the pregnancy arena. With the stress at work + the baby daddy issue + the high risk factor + not being able to sleep + throwing almost everything I eat up by the end of the night = One horrific first pregnancy.
So I have this theory. If all those girls from 16 and Pregnant or Teen Mom have had to go through what I am going through right now, then they wouldn't want it televised. Not only that, but if they were more like this and less making it glorified maybe other teens wouldn't think it would be cool to get pregnant. But as I see it most girls now see it as something that is cool - Thank you MTV. Sure Leah from Teen Mom season 1 had issues, but that was because of twins. And now she is dealing with what could even be some what considered normal for twins - health issues. But then you have the others, who continue doing what they do. Getting thrown into jail, getting pregnant again. How can we let this on our televisions? Why is it even being shown? And better yet, why, how, what is going through people's minds when they sit there and watch it. Most with their daughters. Sure, you could be saying don't do this, and if you ever do that I will kick your arse. But do you really think they are listening? Because I truly don't think so. All they are seeing is - OMG I CAN TOTALLY BE ON THIS SHOW AND FAMOUS IF I GET PREGGO.... -insert furious texting to recent boyfriend-
Again, all opinion. But come on, it's almost as bad as Toddlers in Tiaras. Some of the shows that come out now just frighten me. What will be coming for my child? Do I need to shield them from the television? With all the cyber bullying or just bullying in general. Children were cruel when I was growing up, and I have babysat since I was old enough to - they have just gotten worse. I am freaking out. I don't think I will be a good mother; let alone a good father as well. I just don't know what to do.
This means I am worrying and stressing over things I can't control. Things I shouldn't be worrying about right now - which makes the cramping worse, and my exhaustion even worse. Nothing is going the way I wish it too. I expected to have my degree by name, maybe a fiance or married, and definitely not living in my parents home. This person - still going to school, my baby daddy being ridiculously obnoxious, living in my parents home, and of course having issues with my job - was not suppose to be pregnant. I try to live by the saying; no regrets. And I don't regret being pregnant, for all I know this could be the only one I can have, but I regret alot of other things that I know I can't change. Means I am back to the drawing board.
Until next time my fellow bloggers- Live long and party hard? Lol or just live long =)
Thursday, September 6, 2012
To Quit or Not to Quit, That is the Question
The gender of my baby is... drum roll please... I have no clue. My baby is definitely mine and my exes. There is no if, and or but about it. I went in for an ultra sound yesterday, to find out the gender and to check on all the vital things. Well, my baby who doesn't ever like to sleep decided yesterday morning would be a good time to sleep in. Yay me, not really. So I am laying there and the ultra sound technician is killing me with the pushing, poking and prodding to get what she needs. But, there is one problem - my baby was curled up in the fetal position. Not where a normal 20 week old baby would be normally sleeping; no my baby is odd and likes to sleep and stay where a 10 week old fetus stays. Which is a problem in itself I guess. Well the person doing the ultra sound decided, we should wake the baby up and get what we need once it's awake. I, immediately, say, "Don't you dare wake the baby up." She just looked at me and proceeded to try and wake the baby up. Causing even more pain for me, by literally taking pushing as hard into my stomach making it feel like I was being punched over and over in the stomach. I am wincing and telling her to stop and leave the baby alone, she isn't going to get what she wants anyway. The silly woman didn't listen to me. She woke my baby up, and oooooh they were not happy. She gets close to a picture she needed, and the baby would move, and this went on for a good ten minutes before she finally decided I just needed to come back next week to get what they needed, as the baby isn't cooperating.
Well, I could have told her that... oh wait, I did. She didn't want to listen to me. I am sorry, but the baby is inside me and part of me. I know the dad and I know me; the baby wasn't going to be happy being woken up, and they most certainly were not going to cooperate after being woken up. Which of course means I need to go back next week and have another one done, and hopefully this time I will be able to inform people what the gender is.
That's my interesting baby story. Yet, that's not why I have the question of whether to quit or not. My job has been getting to me (as if my ex isn't enough drama.) It really sucks when you feel like you are being discriminated against for being pregnant. Especially when it is a non-profit company that is suppose to be helping people in the community that can't help themselves. I do a relatively self-less job, I am a caregiver and that's everything in which you think it includes. I work my ass off, and apparently they even say that I am one of their best workers - yet I don't seem to be getting any hours, unless I bring HR into it. Which no one should have to do. And when do people feel they need to come off as if they are better than me. And don't ever threaten me with a court case of defamation of character if I go to the Human Rights Commission because all that means is that you are guilty of something and you don't wish to admit it.
That's what's happening. It has gotten to the point where I am now don't have a choice anymore. I need to go to the Human Rights Commission, which is going to just cause me even more drama. I don't need the stress - but when you go from working 35 hours with benefits, down to 9 hours without benefits a week within 1 month, there is a problem. I won't go into anymore details, just it makes me really think about quitting my job. For I know if a case is filed against them, my time will be limited in said job. =( So to quit or not to quit, that is the question.
I could go on about what my ex has doesn't now, but I am truly just too tired and hungry to go on about that drama. Maybe later in the week I will post about his non-sense some more. But for now I am off to go eat and take a small nap.
Remember, when life gives you lemons - cut them in half and squeeze the lemon juice in life's eye =)
Well, I could have told her that... oh wait, I did. She didn't want to listen to me. I am sorry, but the baby is inside me and part of me. I know the dad and I know me; the baby wasn't going to be happy being woken up, and they most certainly were not going to cooperate after being woken up. Which of course means I need to go back next week and have another one done, and hopefully this time I will be able to inform people what the gender is.
That's my interesting baby story. Yet, that's not why I have the question of whether to quit or not. My job has been getting to me (as if my ex isn't enough drama.) It really sucks when you feel like you are being discriminated against for being pregnant. Especially when it is a non-profit company that is suppose to be helping people in the community that can't help themselves. I do a relatively self-less job, I am a caregiver and that's everything in which you think it includes. I work my ass off, and apparently they even say that I am one of their best workers - yet I don't seem to be getting any hours, unless I bring HR into it. Which no one should have to do. And when do people feel they need to come off as if they are better than me. And don't ever threaten me with a court case of defamation of character if I go to the Human Rights Commission because all that means is that you are guilty of something and you don't wish to admit it.
That's what's happening. It has gotten to the point where I am now don't have a choice anymore. I need to go to the Human Rights Commission, which is going to just cause me even more drama. I don't need the stress - but when you go from working 35 hours with benefits, down to 9 hours without benefits a week within 1 month, there is a problem. I won't go into anymore details, just it makes me really think about quitting my job. For I know if a case is filed against them, my time will be limited in said job. =( So to quit or not to quit, that is the question.
I could go on about what my ex has doesn't now, but I am truly just too tired and hungry to go on about that drama. Maybe later in the week I will post about his non-sense some more. But for now I am off to go eat and take a small nap.
Remember, when life gives you lemons - cut them in half and squeeze the lemon juice in life's eye =)
Saturday, September 1, 2012
Fun in the Sun to Sick in my Bed
Drama Drama Drama. That's what I deal with on a daily basis with my ex. Which, doesn't truly surprise me, considering his relationship with his other "baby mama" (a term in which I despise with all my being.) Well, yesterday with the determination of a bull, I was going to have a good day. There wasn't going to be any worry about what my ex had in mind to argue about, or the disappointed looks from my family; nothing like that was going to get in my way. It was a beach day. The weather was right, the timing was right and my friend and her son were capable of coming with me.
Leaving my house at nine in the morning, I did what most people probably do the night before get everything I needed for the beach trip. Gas in the car, was first. Followed by going to the bank. And finishing with getting some snacks and coffee (well tea for me since my baby doesn't like coffee - the nerve of them.) Excuse me for a moment while I take a break from the beach story and rant about the coffee issue...
I love coffee. My ex loves coffee. I get pregnant and my baby hates coffee - how the fudge does that work? And it isn't the acid content. I checked with my doctor, and considering everything else I eat and/or drink she is surprised that coffee makes me sick and the other stuff doesn't. So I am now going to have to come to terms that my ex and I - who are coffee lovers to the bone ... and our blood is probably coffee - may have a child that just doesn't like it. The horror. Though I guess its to each their own. Okay, back to the beach.
By ten in the morning I am at my ex's house. Why you may be asking yourself? Because my friend and her son live with my ex.Which is another issue in itself - as he can't stand that we are friends now. Either way I get to the apartment, text her saying I'm here and I wait. Of course I knew my ex was home, which is why I didn't go upstairs. Though, according to him that's the only time I am allowed over is when he is home. Again, he is clearly ass-hat backwards. Either way, she comes downstairs with her son. We get everything all set in my car and hit the road. My day is going well so far.
Of course, she wishes to talk about my ex - as she is having issues with him now. Not my problem. But my ears to perk up when she informs me that he told her I was being a biatch by not allowing him to give them their middle name. You know his last name as a middle - which I already discussed. I told her, I didn't say that. I said and I quote myself, "If I say no I'm a b**ch, if I say yes our child will be tormented. Can I think about it and get back to you when I find out the gender?" Well as you can tell, he didn't tell her the last part when I didn't say no, or yes, or anything about it really. I also stated that I would be more willing to listen to him if he would care about something more than the baby's name. Because that's all he seems to care about. Never does he ask how the baby is doing or how I am doing with the baby. Which she didn't know either. And I laugh at that, of course he isn't going to tell you the whole story, he is trying to make me out to be a true "baby mama."
Once that conversation is over with, I get to subject to change. After all, I just wanted to relax I didn't want to have to worry about what my ex had to say or anything to do with him. We discuss other things, like her son's first day of kindergarten and even if I was excited finding out the gender of my baby. We get to the beach and find fabulous parking. Less than a five minute walk from the beach and boardwalk. Finding the perfect spot to set our stuff up we get it all ready. My friend puts sunblock on her son, and I put a little on myself and we are all set for a great day.
And a great day it was till I got home. Like most five year old spoiled children, he didn't listen very well; but I give him credit for doing better than he does when we go to parks. Went into the FREEZING cold water a few times to cool off and sat in the sun getting a tan. Now, my problem is a there seems to never be enough sunblock in the world to keep my skin from being burned. Granted, putting it on more than once probably would have been a good idea. After being on the beach for a while, we decided to bring our stuff back to the car and walk around the boardwalk. Which then was filled with french fries, hot dogs, chicken tenders and of course the arcade. Cotton candy was bought for the child and fries to go were bought for us adults. By four in the afternoon we were on our way home after a fun filled day.
Dropping them off I head home, take a shower, and just go outside and relax with my dad - and later when she gets home from visiting my aunt in the hospital my mom joined as well. Soon, we had a party with the neighbors coming over and everyone just hanging out in front of our house. After a while though I started feeling really bad, and at first I thought it was because I hadn't eaten dinner yet. Heading inside I make a hot ham sandwich, eating that and having some chips on the side. Getting about half way through the sandwich my heart felt like it was pounding and would come right out of my chest. Laying down on the couch didn't make it feel any better, so what's a girl to do? You got it, I went and got my mom. The emergency room and I have had a big enough relationship that I didn't feel the need to go back there again. She checks my heart rate, says it seems to be fine but that I was clammy.
This leads her to giving me water and telling me to go lay in my bed. I do, come on you have to listen to your mom when you are feeling as bad as I did. Putting in a movie that had been seen millions of times before, I lay down. That didn't last long. There was no comfort, and I was hot even in the sixty degree bedroom. Sitting up, leaning over and reaching the trash can just in time. I got sick. Over and over again. Finally, once I stop, I go to bring it the bag outside and my mom takes the bag, throws it away and hands me an ice pack. My chest had been burnt, which means I was now feeling it.
I was once more sent to bed, still feeling like crap at midnight. Finally, my mom comes back into the house and enters my room. Mainly to check on me, but also to look at my medication. And wouldn't you know it, one of my medications states right on it - no prolonged exposure to the sun. So where my dad was just stating it was because I am pregnant, and getting sick. That would normally be correct, though this time it was because I was having and aversion to the sun and my medication. I am one cool chick.
Needless to say, I won't be doing much today- other than two hours of work. I am still very exhausted, and not feeling good. But I will definitely be checking my medication before doing something from here on out.
Until next time =) Stay safe, stay happy, and stay drama free.
Leaving my house at nine in the morning, I did what most people probably do the night before get everything I needed for the beach trip. Gas in the car, was first. Followed by going to the bank. And finishing with getting some snacks and coffee (well tea for me since my baby doesn't like coffee - the nerve of them.) Excuse me for a moment while I take a break from the beach story and rant about the coffee issue...
I love coffee. My ex loves coffee. I get pregnant and my baby hates coffee - how the fudge does that work? And it isn't the acid content. I checked with my doctor, and considering everything else I eat and/or drink she is surprised that coffee makes me sick and the other stuff doesn't. So I am now going to have to come to terms that my ex and I - who are coffee lovers to the bone ... and our blood is probably coffee - may have a child that just doesn't like it. The horror. Though I guess its to each their own. Okay, back to the beach.
By ten in the morning I am at my ex's house. Why you may be asking yourself? Because my friend and her son live with my ex.Which is another issue in itself - as he can't stand that we are friends now. Either way I get to the apartment, text her saying I'm here and I wait. Of course I knew my ex was home, which is why I didn't go upstairs. Though, according to him that's the only time I am allowed over is when he is home. Again, he is clearly ass-hat backwards. Either way, she comes downstairs with her son. We get everything all set in my car and hit the road. My day is going well so far.
Of course, she wishes to talk about my ex - as she is having issues with him now. Not my problem. But my ears to perk up when she informs me that he told her I was being a biatch by not allowing him to give them their middle name. You know his last name as a middle - which I already discussed. I told her, I didn't say that. I said and I quote myself, "If I say no I'm a b**ch, if I say yes our child will be tormented. Can I think about it and get back to you when I find out the gender?" Well as you can tell, he didn't tell her the last part when I didn't say no, or yes, or anything about it really. I also stated that I would be more willing to listen to him if he would care about something more than the baby's name. Because that's all he seems to care about. Never does he ask how the baby is doing or how I am doing with the baby. Which she didn't know either. And I laugh at that, of course he isn't going to tell you the whole story, he is trying to make me out to be a true "baby mama."
Once that conversation is over with, I get to subject to change. After all, I just wanted to relax I didn't want to have to worry about what my ex had to say or anything to do with him. We discuss other things, like her son's first day of kindergarten and even if I was excited finding out the gender of my baby. We get to the beach and find fabulous parking. Less than a five minute walk from the beach and boardwalk. Finding the perfect spot to set our stuff up we get it all ready. My friend puts sunblock on her son, and I put a little on myself and we are all set for a great day.
And a great day it was till I got home. Like most five year old spoiled children, he didn't listen very well; but I give him credit for doing better than he does when we go to parks. Went into the FREEZING cold water a few times to cool off and sat in the sun getting a tan. Now, my problem is a there seems to never be enough sunblock in the world to keep my skin from being burned. Granted, putting it on more than once probably would have been a good idea. After being on the beach for a while, we decided to bring our stuff back to the car and walk around the boardwalk. Which then was filled with french fries, hot dogs, chicken tenders and of course the arcade. Cotton candy was bought for the child and fries to go were bought for us adults. By four in the afternoon we were on our way home after a fun filled day.
Dropping them off I head home, take a shower, and just go outside and relax with my dad - and later when she gets home from visiting my aunt in the hospital my mom joined as well. Soon, we had a party with the neighbors coming over and everyone just hanging out in front of our house. After a while though I started feeling really bad, and at first I thought it was because I hadn't eaten dinner yet. Heading inside I make a hot ham sandwich, eating that and having some chips on the side. Getting about half way through the sandwich my heart felt like it was pounding and would come right out of my chest. Laying down on the couch didn't make it feel any better, so what's a girl to do? You got it, I went and got my mom. The emergency room and I have had a big enough relationship that I didn't feel the need to go back there again. She checks my heart rate, says it seems to be fine but that I was clammy.
This leads her to giving me water and telling me to go lay in my bed. I do, come on you have to listen to your mom when you are feeling as bad as I did. Putting in a movie that had been seen millions of times before, I lay down. That didn't last long. There was no comfort, and I was hot even in the sixty degree bedroom. Sitting up, leaning over and reaching the trash can just in time. I got sick. Over and over again. Finally, once I stop, I go to bring it the bag outside and my mom takes the bag, throws it away and hands me an ice pack. My chest had been burnt, which means I was now feeling it.
I was once more sent to bed, still feeling like crap at midnight. Finally, my mom comes back into the house and enters my room. Mainly to check on me, but also to look at my medication. And wouldn't you know it, one of my medications states right on it - no prolonged exposure to the sun. So where my dad was just stating it was because I am pregnant, and getting sick. That would normally be correct, though this time it was because I was having and aversion to the sun and my medication. I am one cool chick.
Needless to say, I won't be doing much today- other than two hours of work. I am still very exhausted, and not feeling good. But I will definitely be checking my medication before doing something from here on out.
Until next time =) Stay safe, stay happy, and stay drama free.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Almost Five Months...
Four and Twenty. That's how they use to say it in the 1800s, maybe even earlier - I truly don't remember. Either way, I am now twenty-four years old and almost five months pregnant. Next week I get to find out what the gender is; and I am told I will be excited at that point. Don't get me wrong, my unborn child is wanted just not at all expected. In most cases, maybe that's how it would go. I know I am not the only person out there who has an ex-boyfriend that left them once finding out they were pregnant; or even some time after finding out. But it kills me the way it went down. The not knowing factor, always wondering...wondering...and wondering some more about what I had done wrong. And nothing comes to mind.
Granted, I wasn't the most perfect girlfriend. I don't have the best communication skills, which might even be the issue. But not any worse than him, since after all he didn't even tell me what I did wrong or even conveyed that we were breaking up. Yes, you're reading right - dumping via Facebook. A change of the relationship status with no notice at all. Couples argue, or so I am told, but apparently not with my ex - it was his way or the highway. In truth, I know I am better without him. And I found a very nice guy, and he doesn't even care that I am pregnant. But still I can't help but feel like I am doing this guy wrong. Though he tells me otherwise. A keeper... that he definitely is. Just getting over my insecurities may be a problem.
But back to the ex. Is it so wrong that I don't want to give the baby his last name? There are so many views out there on this matter. But is it really that big of a deal, after all he left me - I didn't leave him. Plus, we are not even married and never even had plans too. He said I am ruining something sacred by not giving the baby his last name... Yet, are we not both ruining something sacred since we are not married and have no plans of ever being married and having this child? After all, that's one of the reasons shot gun weddings happened. I told him things would be easier with my last name - enrolling in school, doctors, moving, getting help (if needed by the state). He said that was a BS reason. Well, I think, his sacred talk is a BS reason.
In the end, I decided the baby would have my last name. Of course that didn't make him happy - and I knew that it wouldn't before hand. And I truly don't even care. So why am I rambling on about? The ex has no decided that he is going to give the child their middle name. And low and behold can anyone guess what that name is - male or female? A. his first name for male and mothers name for female or B. His last name... if you guessed B then you would be correct. Which of course another argument ensued. I am not selfish for thinking of the child in the now and in the then. When really, he's the one who -helped me get- knocked up (we were both stupid and it was both our "faults"), cheated on me, left me, doesn't help with anything to get prepared for the baby or medical wise, and only contacts me when he feels we should discuss the baby name. Who's really the selfish one here?
I want to make decisions with him. Keep it as amicable as I can. That was when we were together, and even now. But seriously, his last name had created much torment for his other child, created torment for himself - so why would he want the same thing for his next child. Especially, since I already told him it wouldn't happen. And he probably won't even be in their life much, since according to him "he will see them when he can see them." It's all so confusing and stressful.
So here are some questions posed to you: Is it really so bad that I have made the decision not to give my child the biological father's last name? Am I being selfish, by not letting his last name be anywhere in the name? And do you think I will make it through this craziness?
Until Later: I will just be without alcohol; holding a piece of paper, a pen and having fun with my crazy emotional roller coasters.
~Ashleigh
Granted, I wasn't the most perfect girlfriend. I don't have the best communication skills, which might even be the issue. But not any worse than him, since after all he didn't even tell me what I did wrong or even conveyed that we were breaking up. Yes, you're reading right - dumping via Facebook. A change of the relationship status with no notice at all. Couples argue, or so I am told, but apparently not with my ex - it was his way or the highway. In truth, I know I am better without him. And I found a very nice guy, and he doesn't even care that I am pregnant. But still I can't help but feel like I am doing this guy wrong. Though he tells me otherwise. A keeper... that he definitely is. Just getting over my insecurities may be a problem.
But back to the ex. Is it so wrong that I don't want to give the baby his last name? There are so many views out there on this matter. But is it really that big of a deal, after all he left me - I didn't leave him. Plus, we are not even married and never even had plans too. He said I am ruining something sacred by not giving the baby his last name... Yet, are we not both ruining something sacred since we are not married and have no plans of ever being married and having this child? After all, that's one of the reasons shot gun weddings happened. I told him things would be easier with my last name - enrolling in school, doctors, moving, getting help (if needed by the state). He said that was a BS reason. Well, I think, his sacred talk is a BS reason.
In the end, I decided the baby would have my last name. Of course that didn't make him happy - and I knew that it wouldn't before hand. And I truly don't even care. So why am I rambling on about? The ex has no decided that he is going to give the child their middle name. And low and behold can anyone guess what that name is - male or female? A. his first name for male and mothers name for female or B. His last name... if you guessed B then you would be correct. Which of course another argument ensued. I am not selfish for thinking of the child in the now and in the then. When really, he's the one who -helped me get- knocked up (we were both stupid and it was both our "faults"), cheated on me, left me, doesn't help with anything to get prepared for the baby or medical wise, and only contacts me when he feels we should discuss the baby name. Who's really the selfish one here?
I want to make decisions with him. Keep it as amicable as I can. That was when we were together, and even now. But seriously, his last name had created much torment for his other child, created torment for himself - so why would he want the same thing for his next child. Especially, since I already told him it wouldn't happen. And he probably won't even be in their life much, since according to him "he will see them when he can see them." It's all so confusing and stressful.
So here are some questions posed to you: Is it really so bad that I have made the decision not to give my child the biological father's last name? Am I being selfish, by not letting his last name be anywhere in the name? And do you think I will make it through this craziness?
Until Later: I will just be without alcohol; holding a piece of paper, a pen and having fun with my crazy emotional roller coasters.
~Ashleigh
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