Ring around the green weanie

A take on ring around the rosy, a child’s game about scarlet fever. Yeah that joke is so not working. Well after a few days of being highly annoyed about the reserve contract sitch, the hubs headed to his weekend of drill with a list of demands/questions outlined by me. I also flew in one of my BFF’s from SF because I just couldn’t take it any longer. I wanted a friend around me for the weekend. 

Well lo and behold you ask again and get a completely different answer. How very army ya’ll. Josh was told he could extend for six more months and he simply needed to take a two week course that would add a skill or something. I was like great, bring it. In the several day interim which involved much green weanie castigating I found out I could put the husband on my health insurance asap with no extra cost. I was ready to cut sling load and wish the military good-bye. Yes I am that shallow. Our commitment had run its course. Then we were told about the six month extension and decided six more months was a good idea.

Well then the next day at drill came and they told Josh he needed to sign a contract and I swear in some voodoo induced haze without consulting me he signed a ONE YEAR CONTRACT.

ARGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!!! WTF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now you say, what is six months? Well it is huge in terms of our family. Those six months mean another semester he cannot take weekend classes, another semester he cannot get a part time job that wants him to work on some weekends, it alters a lot in terms of schooling and work, which are big deals in this family. I was like totally livid, like crazy bitch head spinning spitting and speaking in tongues. Like I am embarrassed how ballistic I went. I demanded that he go in there and get that contract and rip it up and tell them his crazy wife was pulling rank. Yep I said that. I am telling you these pregnancy hormones are nuts!!! They said no, the contract stands. We had to just suck it up and deal.  This making unilateral decisions is so out of character for Josh, that I couldn’t be completely furious, I was just flabbergasted.  But what can you do? It’s done.

Well a few days later he gets a call and is told his contract didn’t go through because he still hasn’t passed  that same old PT test. So unless he passes it by May 8^th (6 days post birth), he is being kicked out of the Army. I am like really? I told him to go fucking fail that god-damn motherfucking piece of shit bullshit cocksucker  PT test.  But I would still like those six months, maybe. So who knows, we have yet to decide what to do. I am so fed up. I am so flipping crazy irrational right now. I cannot be trusted to make any decisions.  We probably need to just tell them to take their weanie and shove it up their arses. I mean I have a horrible attitude, even 38 weeks pregnancy excuse and all, we should just go. 

The Big Green Weanie

I should have known better than to declare my hope for status quo. The big green weanie (aka Army) must have been listening. Arg.  Basically when Josh joined the reserves it was a one year commitment. At the end of the first year (January 2013) he was offered the option to extend another year.  We took it. Or so we thought. Well apparently he failed a PT (physical training) test and they only extended his contract six months until May. This is total horseshit on many levels. First as Josh will freely tell you, have you seen some of the fat fuck sack of shits in the reserves? He didn’t fail a PT test and if he did he would have re-taken it. Also no one told him that his contract was six months.  The reserves have been a monumentally less than positive experience for him.  Some of this is to be expected after 8 years of active duty. But the bullshittery makes Active Duty look like a well run German transit system.  We have kicked around leaving the reserves, as many of our original reasons for joining the reserves are no longer as relevant.  But reasons still exist.  So yesterday we got some super news.

 

It is time to deal with Josh’s reserve contract.  These are the options. He can extend another year. He can re-enlist for multiple years. But, he must go to training to change his MOS (Military Operational Specialty, aka the job role he is assigned, right now 11-Bravo-infantry).  Changing his MOS involves going to school for 5-10 weeks out of state this summer. WHAT????? This sucks on many levels.  Yes, I know 5-10 weeks of training is nothing compared to a year of deployment to a warzone, I TOTALLY get it.  But one of the primary reasons we left active duty was to  not to have family separations.  We have a pretty great summer planned too. And I have this vision and expectation of this summer for my little family.  I am going back to work 3.5 months after having my daughter and I was already cherishing this special family time we would have together. Josh being gone and me wrangling a newborn and toddler on my own, not what my heart had hoped for.  Begin crying jag #2834854 of the day. 

 

I have been highly emotional these past few weeks. More like highly bitchy. Everything and everyone annoys me pretty much.  Foul things come out of my mouth.  I know much of this, if not all, is due to being 37 weeks pregnant and the anxiety that comes with this major life change.  I do not trust myself to make any kind of rational decision right now.  And this reserve contract is a HUGE decision, that takes rational thinking.  Oh and the retention specialist told us to make the decision in a few days. I was like oh you can go fuck yourself, there will be no quick decision until we have more information from you shitbags and we have more information on our end about ramifications to our lives.  I told Josh I would be happy to talk to the retention specialist if they had a problem. HA!

 

There is so much about this situation that bothers me. Number one, who the fuck waits until weeks before a contract expires to throw out these rules? The reserves apparently.  And why must he change his MOS? It is not like his unit deploys overseas and he needs to have some special skills.  His unit deploys to Texas and does pre-mobilization tasks.  And in the 10 years of war his unit has never “deployed”.  So for the Army to need this makes not a hell of a lot of sense. Also they don’t care what the MOS is, just needs to not be 11-Bravo.  So go to the time and expense of getting a new MOS, for what??? And when he joined the reserves this was never mentioned.  So in a matter of months the Army will get him in some school and off he will go? I just don’t see them getting their act together that easily. Likely the school will fall during his school semester, fuck with school and many other things.  Or it could happen this summer and ruin it for me. I know, WHOA is me.

 

The main reason to stay in the reserves right now is as a back-up plan for health care G-d forbid I lose my job.  Also if Josh was to stay in 10-15 years longer he would have retirement, that is a far second consideration.  It does provide some income 150-300 a month, which is something.  So we don’t really know what to do.  My gut reaction is to get out and roll the dice. Selfishly have the summer I want. But how many times can we roll these dice and get a good outcome?  So I am hopeful we can make a rational decision and get some more data.  But heck, I am so not in the mood for this.  I want to lay on the couch, eat ice cream, and watch Bravo. Occasionally let batshit crazy verbiage fly out of my mouth. That is it. That is all I am good for the next two weeks.  What to do? I have no fucking idea. And oh, there will be no fucking right now, despite my husband’s extremely twisted and vile libido. 

Then vs. Now

People love to tell you things when you are pregnant. It is like the belly brings out the sage in everyone. I really don’t mind unsolicited advice, I ignore it if I don’t agree or it doesn't apply.  Some people are kinda annoying about it, but I let it speak about them rather than rile me up.  For example, Josh’s uncle has an incredibly annoying girlfriend, who most people don’t care for. She is also a close talker which amplifies her vex factor.  Before we started trying for baby number two there was a half serious joke going around.

That perhaps we should spin the sperm in order to have a baby girl. My mother-in-law has always wanted a girl after having two boys of her own and there are no girl cousins/nieces on her side of the family.  People got really into the idea and even started offering money to the fund.  At the end of the day I wouldn’t go there for multiple reasons, but it was fun to joke about.  Well annoying uncle’s girlfriend had lots of opinions about why we should not do this and would not give it a rest.  Then the uncle broke up with her, we all rejoiced, I got knocked up with a girl naturally, and then they got back together, horror.  She got all up in my face at my son’s second birthday party telling me how right she was, it took everything in my 8^th month hormonal power not to say something.  I walked away mid-lecture and she commented that I was rude. HA!

Anyhow I digress, then vs. now.  So this pregnancy is much different than my first.  But it is mostly due to what is happening on the outside vs. the inside.  It is way different working full time while pregnant versus laying on the couch adjusting to my new life.  It is very different having a toddler to take care of versus planning for your first baby.  I attribute these two things to significantly less weight gain than last time, like 15 pounds less.  Not that I really put too much stock in this. I think it is kinda crazy when the doc told me he wanted me to gain 15-20 pounds. I was like who does that?  There is like this ridiculously fit army wife who was weight lifting and going to spin class five times a week until 36 weeks and she gained 30 pounds!!! So when I gained 40 pounds with the first I was like whatever. I lost all but five of it, so cool. Now I have gained between 20-24 depending on the day, and I am like huh? I am definitely not eating or exercising better. I think I am just moving more due to life.

The other big difference is the feeling of being settled.  Last pregnancy so much in our life was up in the air.  We were hoping to leave the army and return home. But how and if we were going to be able to do that, we just didn’t know. And I worried about it constantly.  A lot of our decision, almost everything, depending on me getting a job.  That as I whined a lot about was extremely difficult. In the end I did not get a job, we left the army anyway, and moved back home to Josh’s parents.  Neither of us had jobs, but we did have a baby, cat, reptiles and a lot of crap.  It was incredibly stressful and horrifying. It was not how I imagined the circumstances of my life when starting my family. Especially at the age of 40, good grief.  I remember crying, I did that a lot, because I was focusing on job searching rather than mothering my infant.  Let the mommy guilt begin!!!

Throw in all the overwhelming feelings of being a new parent, and I often asked myself if I was crazy and if I was leading my life off the rails.  That maybe all along I had expected too much from my life. That marrying a military man that I had spent less than a 100 days with, leaving my life and moving cross country, immediately getting knocked up, and then lobbying to leave the army because I wanted to go back to California and lead a “normal life”.  Sounds nutso doesn’t it. Yeah that negative anxiety voice was taking charge.  This was the context of my first pregnancy.

Now, as I incubate our second child we are pretty much exactly where I wanted us to be.  And I feel settled. I am actually surpassing our expectations.  I have a great job that doesn’t require me to get on a  freeway and commute, is 20 minutes door to door with daycare drop-off.  That is pretty rare in Southern California. We bought a house!!! (With a great deal of assistance, but still, we are home.) Josh is going to school and enjoying it. And at the age of 41, we are having our second child, a girl that didn’t involve spinning sperm for.  No big life changes are on the horizon for probably 2 years when Josh graduates and hopefully enters the work force.  Not that I don’t anticipate life stressors, because that is life. I am sure a car will break down, or the HVAC, but hopefully nothing that money can’t fix.  I just hope for everyone to remain healthy, to remain employed, and to transition well to a family of four. 

I really don’t know how I got so fortunate to be living this life.  Because with pregnancy #1 I really had no fucking idea how things were going to work out, and pregnancy #2, I just hope for all that is working to keep working.  The other minor differences are that this baby moves WAY more than Jonah ever did. People like to say, “Oh that is because you know what to feel for this time”. Horseshit. She moves more, or my placenta is placed differently so I can feel more. In fact, Josh fessed up that he never felt the baby move when he touched my belly. Nice fibber. But this time, he can feel her all the time. Last night she was really pushing around in there, you can see my belly move, that never happened before, and Josh felt her and was like, is that a heel?  Does that wake you up?  So that part is kinda fun. I am also not as grossed out by pregnancy as before. I kinda knew my body was going to get gross. But this time, no horrid rash, I don’t pee myself as often, and due to having a job to go to I do shower and get myself more presentable.  Josh agrees that I am more attractive this pregnancy, interesting. What was he not saying last time???? 

Other than even worse asthma during the second trimester this time than last, it has been pretty much the same. And oh I have been way less worried about every little thing concerning the pregnancy. I do not go to my appointments with a notebook full of questions, I do not pester my doctor friends with questions, and I am not in major prep mode. In fact, there was no prep list and this week I finally started getting things together. My long time friends didn’t believe that I had waited this long and there was no spreadsheet.  I just didn’t feel the need, plus I had a lot of other shit to do in terms of the move and work. And it is not like I can get a nursery completely together because all the reptiles are living in there right now. The snake house should be completed about a week before the birth.  (crossing fingers)  And really all I need is a place for the baby to sleep, done basinet ready for our bedroom, changing station, (already have that for number one), clothes (handmedowns and carter’s took care of that), a new glider because the first one sucked and we still use it for number one (got an awesome shermag glider on craigslist), a double stroller (ditto about cl, and who knows if I will use it), infant carseat from last time is ready.  Plus we have a buttload of family that will be here to help, unlike last time.  So like we got this I think.  I feel like we got life by the balls in fact and we are WINNING!! Now that is a completely different pregnancy. 

Planning for the next birth story

 

As I sit uncomfortably on the precipice of the birth of our second child, I am hopeful this birth will be different. Next to the well-being of my baby, my ability to be emotionally present is the top priority.  So with that in mind, I know I must keep my anxiety in check.  To the best of my ability that is.  I know that having a planned c-section is the best option for us.  I am sure there are lots of mamas out there shaking their heads. I am sure many opinions think that part of the reason that I had such a horrid birth the first time is that I agreed to an induction and epidural. If I had only let me body going into labor naturally I would have had a better chance of a vaginal birth. I have seen the statistics. If I had not had an epidural I could have gotten up and moved around, my pelvis would have opened and let the baby out. I could have changed positions and he might have gotten out. Trust me I have heard it all and investigated it all as well.  My baby was not large, 6 pounds, 5 ounces, I do not have small hips, and he got stuck.  That could have happened if I didn’t have an induction or epidural.  The truth is we just don’t know what would have made a difference.  I do know I had a healthy baby and so despite the difficulty of the day, I am not begetting a good outcome. Even with the flight over the cuckoo’s nest. But I will do what I can to be calmer this time around.

That means that no I will not be attempting a VBAC (vaginal birth after c-section). I know what to expect with a c-section, I am going to take the known.  I do not want to go through labor again and then have the surprise of a c-section.  I want to hope that the hardest part of the day will be getting the epidural. I want to be as calm as possible so that epidural works the first time. I want a schedule of how the day is going to go.  I believe that is the best chance at keeping my anxiety down and my ability to be emotionally present possible.  I am already at-risk for post-partum depression because of what I experienced last time. I am not going to add another risk factor.  I have given it a lot of thought and I know this is the right choice for me.  So unless she plans to come sooner, we will welcome our daughter via a scheduled c-section no later than May 2^nd. 

 

I have yet to decide if I will be telling my doctor’s about my anxiety either. That might sound a little crazy.  I know I have to have an epidural. There is no way around that.  I believe if I let everyone know about my issues it is like a self-fulfilling prophecy.  I plan to tell the anesthesiologist in plain terms what happened the first time-I might have jumped and it didn’t take the first time, I got real upset, stopped the second attempt and it took me five hours to calm down enough to get it done finally.  So with that in mind, this is what I would like to happen.  I would like the nurse to narrate how much percentage-wise/time-wise is left. My husband is going to be in my face telling me to breathe and what a great job I am doing. I have confidence that I will get through it, it will hurt like a mother-fucker, but then I will go on and have my baby. 

 

I believe the more people I go on about my issues to, the bigger they are going to become. I will actually become anxious knowing people know I am anxious.  That might not make sense, but it does make sense to me.  The bottom line is I have to do this and making it into a huge ordeal before it even happens is not going to help. 

When I had the genetics test which involved putting a big needle in my belly and taking a sample of my placenta, I pulled through. In fact I did better than I did when they did the testing with my first pregnancy. I told myself to be calm, breathe and it would be over quickly.  The epidural takes about the same amount of time, the needle is bigger though.  I am choosing to believe in myself and that I can get through this.  Faking that I don’t feel anxious actually helps me feel less anxious. It is true. It works.

 

I so want to be emotionally present for her birth. This is likely my last baby. I want the joyous memory of holding my daughter.  I have high hopes for the mother-daughter relationship I am going to have with her. I have a tough relationship with my mother and I am committed to having a different relationship with my own daughter. I often felt my mom put her own needs ahead of my own. I do not want to be that way.  It is starting with her birth day being about her, not about my issues with anxiety. I can do hard things. I’ll let you know how it goes.