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 |  A continuation of my criminal blogging behavior. |
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IN THE WRITING.COM DISTRICT COURT FOR THE DISTRICT OF MICHIGAN Criminal Action No. 96-938-2 WRITING.COM Plaintiff, vs. Melissa is fashionably late!  Defendant. ************************************************************************ REPORTER'S TRANSCRIPT (Trial to Jury - Volume 222) ************************************************************************ Proceedings before the HONORABLE The StoryMaster  , Judge, Writing.Com District Court for the District of Michigan, commencing at 8:49 a.m., on the 5th day of April, 2007, in Chambers C-234, Writing.Com Courthouse.PROCEEDINGS (In open court at 8:49 a.m.) THE COURT: Please be seated. The jury has informed that they have arrived at their findings and recommendation. I caution all present to avoid any reaction to these findings and the recommendation, either audibly or visibly. And if anyone violates that, we'll have to remove them. Obviously, it will take some time to read these findings, as the recommendation is the last thing read; so please be careful and comply with this request. We'll return the jury. (Jury in at 8:53 a.m.) THE COURT: Members of the jury, have you arrived at your special findings and recommendation? JURORS: Yes. THE COURT: If the foreman will please hand that to Diane , who will hand it to me.Members of the jury, you will please listen to the reading of your Special Findings Form A. These findings apply to all 1184 counts. Under Section I, Obsessive Ranting: The defendant intentionally ranted without ceasing for multiple blog entries. Answer: Yes. Section II, Repeatedly Beating A Dead Horse The deaths or injuries resulting in death occured during the commission of an offense under 18 Writing.Com Code Section 844(d), flogging a horse until death. Answer: Yes. Section III, Unnecessary Use of Curse words The defendant used language to be found offensive during multiple occurences and showed no regard for taste or appropriate expression of emotion. Answer: Yes. Section IV, Boring Daily Recounts Death or injury resulting in death occured during the commission of an offense under 22 Writing.Com Code Section 413(c), recounting daily activity to a point of extreme boredom. Answer: Yes. Section V, Pointless Entries The defendant shared needless details of her life via multiple entries, often multiple times in a row. Answer: Yes. Section VI, Contradictory Statements The defendant often confused her readers through contradictory statements. Answer: Yes. Section VII, Recounting Toilet Actions The defendant needlessly reflected on bathroom activities. Answer: Yes. Section VIII, Overdramatization Of Insignificant Things The defendant made several mountains out of single molehills. Answer: Yes. Section IX, Overreacting To Meaningless Gestures The defendant showed a propensity to fly off the handle for actions deemed appropriate and helpful. Answer: Yes. Section X, Unnecessary Temper Tantrums Death or injury resulting in death occured during the commission of an offense under 18 Writing.Com Code Section 312(a), throwing a temper tantrum in a public forum. Answer: Yes. Section XI, Cruelty Towards Animals, Superiors, Peers, And Inferiors The defendant showed no regard for life in general. Answer: Yes. Section XII, Repeated Bad Grammar, Spelling, And Opinionations The defendant shows no respect for her college education. Answer: Yes. Section XIII, Mitigating Factors (1) Melissa is fashionably late! believed herself to be in the right each time she commited one of the 1184 counts. Number of jurors who so find: 0.(2) Melissa is fashionably late! received encouragement and support from others to commit each of the 1184 counts. Number of jurors who so find: 4.(3) Melissa is fashionably late! is a reliable person in work and in her personal affairs and relations with others. Number of jurors who so find: 7.(4) Melissa is fashionably late! is a patient and effective teacher when she is working in a supervisory role. Number of jurors who so find: 5.(5) Melissa is fashionably late! is a good and loyal friend. Number of jurors who so find: 12.(6) Melissa is fashionably late! is a good mother and wife. Number of jurors who so find: 10.Recommendation, XIV: The jury has considered whether the aggravating factors found to exist sufficiently outweigh any mitigating factor or factors found to exist, or in the absense of any mitigating factors, whether the aggravating factors are themselves sufficient to justify a sentence of life in prison. Based upon this consideration, the jury recommends by unanimous vote that the following sentence be imposed: The defendant, Melissa is fashionably late! , shall be sentenced to a period in prison not shorter than 18 years and not longer than life.The Special Findings appear to be signed by all jurors and dated April 5, 2007. XV. Certification: By signing below, each juror certifies that consideration of race, color, religious beliefs, national origin, or sex of the defendant or the victims was not involved in reaching his or her individual decision and that the individual juror would have made the same recommendation regarding a sentence for crimes in question no matter what the race, color, religious beliefs, national origin, or sex of the defendant or the victims. Apparently signed by all jurors and also dated April 5, 2007. Mr. Foreman, was these and are these the jury's special findings and recommendation: JURY FOREMAN: Yes, they are. THE COURT: And so say you all? JURORS: Yes. THE COURT: Section XVI. Sentencing Melissa is fashionably late! , the court finds you guilty on all 1184 counts of blog criminal activity. You are hereby sentenced to life in prison, with no chance of parole for a minimum of 18 years. Court is in recess. (Recess at 9:37 a.m.) ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only **
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| Still nothing. Damnit. I did go for a long walk around Wal*Mart tonight. I was having a hard time near the end because there was so much pressure on down that way. I also bought some castor oil and am going to try that tonight. For dinner, I ate spicy food. Tomorrow would have been my Grandma Worden's 72nd birthday, so it would be kind of neat to deliver him on that day. Either way, Ethan is over at J's Mom and Dad's for the night, so I can spend the entire evening in labor/trying to go into labor. I wouldn't even bother, but I had 2 nights in a row of contractions that resulted in nothing. I may have been able to get my cervix to efface a bit more, but I would rather continue on then keep waking up in the middle of the night. It tells me that my body is trying to be ready. I might as well help it along as much as I can. Besides, I don't know if I can get around too much more. I had a hard enough time just walking around Wal*Mart for the 45 minutes we were there! Wish me luck! I sure hope that I can deliver a baby sometime after midnight tonight. Either that, or I'll be shitting my ass off on the toilet from the castor oil! LOL! |
| They stopped shortly after 2. I passed out from exhaustion. They didn't hurt, they just kept me awake because I kept thinking *will this be it?* and of course, it made me too thinky to sleep until after they'd calmed down. This kid is going to be like his big brother, in that he's going to keep me awake and sleep deprived for three nights and then come at 11pm on Monday, making J blow a vacation day. The nap will come in real handy this afternoon. I think I'm going to take a really, really long walk sometime today to help things along. Probably after I get a chance to rest, though. I'm hella tired, but I couldn't sleep anymore because Ethan was being too damned cute this morning. "Mommy, I burned my hand on Daddy's tractor. It was hot. Kiss my owies."  He hasn't stopped using it to get my sympathy for the past two weeks now. What's he going to do if he doesn't have bandages next week? I should be calling on Monday to make the appointment to get the skin sloughed off so he hopefully won't need one after that. He doesn't even really need it now except that the blister skin is still there and I don't want it catching on something. Plus it looks gross. lol. That's always a good reason. |
| I don't know if it's just the way the baby's moving or if it's contractions, but it's enough that it's kept me awake until now. I took a hot bath and it helped minimally. At least I didn't suck bath water up into my va-jay-jay like the last time I took a bath. I'm not going to say it's contractions because I'd probably be wrong. I don't really have anything to compare them to since all of the labor I had with Ethan was in my back. I can't really describe this as anything other than pressure with pain spreading from my hips to my belly button. The only thing that makes me doubt it's contractions is the way the baby's positioned. If only he'd get his ass off my right side and put it more towards the middle so he's in the proper birthing position, then I could know for sure. In the meantime, I think I'm going to try to go to sleep again. If you don't hear from me by tomorrow night, call in the calvary. |
| Ethan and I went to the mall to walk around for a bit today. I figured it wouldn't hurt help things to progress along and it was too muggy to go walking around outside. I wanted him in the stroller, he kept saying, "I no like stroller!" and fought with me while I tried to strap him in. Normally, I wouldn't have a problem just walking with him, but I didn't want to deal with trying to keep hold of him and track of him. Plus, I had promised to take him on the carousel if he was good, so as far as I was concerned he should have been more than willing to ride in the stroller!  I love it when you have a screaming toddler (only in the parking lot, mind you) and people give you dirty looks like you're inconveniencing them. These two old ladies gave me this look like, "Can't you control your kid?" As I'm walking, E screamed again as we're passing by them. I calmly said, "Are you done now?" E replies, "I done." I said back, "Good, since I'm done, too. One more scream and you can't ride the horsies." There were no more screams omitted from his mouth. People seem to forget, or just don't realize, that toddlers need a way to vent frustration, too. It may not be the most productive way to handle being upset, but it takes a while to develop a sense of self control. And you certainly can't expect a 2-year-old to be able to practice self control without some kind of coaching. Anyway, we rode the carousel. He had a great time and wanted to ride again, but didn't argue with me when I told him that we only got to ride it once. I talked him into a pretzel from Aunt Millies for a snack (we had a sort of lunch before we left to go to the mall), mostly because that's what I wanted. We walked around, I went to Burlington Coat Factory and spent $50 on baby clothes, receiving blankets, swimming trunks, and a new outfit for E. We walked around the mall some more, then I started to get really tired, so we left. The humidity was astounding and assaulting going back out to the van. It's probably 10 times worse because I'm so damned pregnant, but I was sweating from every oriface possible. When we got home, I put Ethan to bed for his nap and took a nap myself. I'm loving this reflux medication because I'm sleeping so much better. My sanity and good humor has made a return and I'm not so freaking tired all of the time. Does anybody recommend a good baby carrier? Like a sling or a wrap? I currently have a sling, but I don't expect that I'll be able to use it awfully long, plus I don't think it will be something that J will use because it will strip away some of his masculinity. I've seen a couple of people recommend the Moby, but I don't want to spend $35 on something that I end up not liking. Any recommendations would be appreciated! :) |
| Even with his "bandaids," he finds a reason to smile and be cute. If your heart doesn't melt just looking at this photo, then God help you because you're a coldhearted bastard.   |
| Dear God, It was not funny to make me think my water broke after my bath last night, only to find out that apparently va-jay-jays will suck up bath water and leak them all over the floor for a minute before it stops. Why in the hell would you wait until now to let me know that this is a possibility? And why in the hell does that happen? At least you gave me enough sense to know not to go running to the hospital in hopes I was going to be delivering a baby last night. That would have been seriously embarassing. "Sorry, Momma, but that wasn't amniotic fluid. That was just your dirty bath water." Sincerely, Me If anyone tries to suggest I peed myself, I will send you a can of open sardines in the mail. I may be 9 1/2 months pregnant, but I still have bladder control, thankyouverymuch. |
| So, in leiu of all of my complaints as of late, my son does an incredible job at keeping my hopes and sanity in tact these days. Take today, for instance: We were at J's Mom's house. I had napped on and off on her couch while she did her billing stuff for her work and E played in the living room with me. MIL knew I was dozing on and off, so she was also watching E when she knew I was sleeping because she knew how incredibly tired I've been as of late. I did feel bad about it, because she was trying to work, but I was also incredibly grateful for the extra sleep. Anyway, she got her cable installed. I woke up just in time to ask the guy about the specifics and make sure I didn't need to make any hardware or software changes. When he left, MIL decided that we should go out for lunch and get something to eat. She hasn't been able to leave much still, since her car is a manual and clutching is still pretty painful for her. We go to lunch, and then as we're talking, determined that Ethan had a low-grade fever, which was causing him to act a little obnoxiously, but we made it through lunch without major catastrophe. Afterwards, we went back to her house so I could help her set up her new email and also change her AOL configuration to sign in via broadband instead of the modem. While I was doing that, she was keeping Ethan occupied with bubblewrap. Yes, bubblewrap. He thought it was absolutely hilarious to go running across the room and jump onto the wrap, making several bubbles explode with loud bangs. One or two times, he lost his footing and fell completely on the sheet. Instead of crying, he broke out into fits of giggles because he kept making the bang noises. We came home and I took a 2 1/2 hour nap, so I'm feeling slightly better. My body hurts pretty badly right now, especially in the hip region. I've also got a stomach ache, so I skipped dinner, even though the reflux meds seem to be working now (maybe the stomach ache is a side effect, who knows) and I can actually eat. I'm sitting here while E and J are eating some leftover pizza. Ethan decides he wants out of his high chair. As he's trying to climb out, he lets out a loud fart and then starts laughing. "I pop like bubbles," he said, in between giggles. OK. I normally try not to laugh whenever he farts or burps and then points it out to us, but that was damned funny. |
| Wow. Sleep, my dear friend, this is what you feel like. I actually got some last night. Went to bed at... whenever (10:30 maybe?) and only woke up once all night. I still had the reflux, but my body was too tired to care, I think. The meds my midwife gave me apparently take time to work, or they're supposed to work right away and they're not. I'm hoping they just take a day or something, like Prilosec does, because I'd really like some relief - and soon. Going to my MIL's today for a little bit. She's having the cable company come to install Internet and wants me there in case they need to do anything to her router or computers. In the meantime, I have been trying to be positive all morning, but it's hard when all of a sudden you smell like vomit because the small bowl of raisin bran (1/2 cup of cereal + 1/2 cup of millk) came back up and you got it all over everything in the bathroom, including yourself. There's nothing like having to grab a towel to wipe your face off because half-digested bran flakes keep trying to go up your nose when you try to breathe. Not to mention having to clean up the toilet, wall, and floor, because you didn't make it to the toilet quite in time. If we have another baby, I'm going to get a surrogate. Let someone else suffer but still get all of the benefits. There are some women out there who enjoy being pregnant. I don't think that I'm one of them. |
| I'm not effaced enough to be swept, yet. Goddamn it. I left the office utterly frustrated and feeling desperate. Not only have I not progressed any since last Friday, but I also had to learn what curdled Dr. Pepper looked like this morning. Yes, curdled Dr. Pepper. Didn't know it could curdle, did you? Neither did I, until I threw it up. I lost more weight. My midwife asked me about what I was eating. "Nothing," was my answer. "It's kind of hard to eat when you feel like you're going to ralph everything up because you keep tasting it for hours afterwards when you burp." J was with me, and I started to cry because I really was distraught that I didn't even progress any and that means I have to deal with this reflux for however long it takes for this baby to come out. I could deal with most anything, if I could at least eat and get some semi-normal sleep. Part of the sleep problem has been due to the reflux, so if I got rid of one problem, the other wouldn't be so bad. I told her that. I can deal with being pregnant if I can eat more than fruit, veggies, and milk without all the damned reflux. So she gave me a sample of something that's supposed to be pregnancy safe and she said she swears by it to help most women with reflux problems. So, I'm going to try that. Hopefully I won't get up 3 and 4 times a night to drink milk, which adds another 3 or 4 times I get up to go to the bathroom. Then this will hopefully help me to progress a little bit more since I'm not running on perpetual "e" as far as my energy guage goes. She said my lack of sleep could also explain my lack of progress. In the meantime, it could be "any day now." I'm so sick of that phrase. I don't want to be "any day now." I don't want the baby to be "head down and ready." I want the baby to be head out and DONE. I want the day to have passed. No wonder women forget this part of pregnancy. Otherwise, the human race would be doomed. No one would ever want to be pregnant more than once, that's for sure. OK. I'm hopefully done being pessimistic and negative, but we'll see. I'm not promising anything. |
| I'm torn. I don't know what to do. I was really hoping to have at least started warming up for labor by now. I mean, I have, but not as fast as I was hoping. I've had some irregular contractions in the middle of the night, but nothing that would be productive for much of anything other than interrupting my sleep. I'm tired. Ethan cannot be having any fun staying at home with me because I don't have the energy to do anything. I got down on the floor and colored with him yesterday, but we're spending most of the day watching his Curious George DVDs and him playing by himself, which makes me feel bad. The whole point of summer break for me is to be able to spend time with him. I'm drinking a gallon of milk a day to try to combat the heartburn and reflux. I can't even eat Raisin Bran without the raisins giving me heart burn or a salad without the dressing giving me heartburn. J made me tater tots for dinner the other night and they made me nauseous because apparently they were too greasy. And they wonder why I lost a pound and a half between weeks 36 and 37. Between all of the stress and reflux, who can eat anything that'll stick? So, when I go in to my midwife today, I'm torn about asking her to sweep my membranes. If my body is ready for labor, that could encourage it to progress. But, if it's not, then I go through all of the discomfort for nothing. And then, even if my body's ready and it sends me into labor, I worry about making the baby come before he's ready. I just cannot imagine being able to be pregnant for another week, let alone 2 weeks until my due date. I'm miserable. People were right when they said summer pregnancies blow utter monkey balls. Even though I have central air and can stay inside, going outside is torture. Walking anywhere outside is out of the question if the temperature is above 80 degrees. And the humidity makes me sweat from every sweat gland in my body. I guess I'll discuss the pros and cons with her today before we do anything. I'm just to the point where I'm so impatient it isn't even funny. There's still tons of stuff to get done around the house, but I can finish one project and find five more projects to add to my list, so it'll never be "all done" and I've reserved myself to that. Plus I'm ready to meet this baby and I've been patient for 38 weeks. Being antsy 14 days before my due date is pretty good, considering that I've had to wait 266 days previous to this. It seems like I had to wait that long, so I should be able to wait another 14 days, but... well you could only understand if you've been pregnant before. I got antsy with Ethan, but he came before I started to feel like I was going to go absolutely bonkers. Actually, I was to the point where I thought I was going to go bonkers because of being up for 3 nights with contractions, but I knew that one of those nights the contractions would actually amount to something and they did. I don't even have that right now. I need that right now. Otherwise, I might go insane. We'll see what my midwife talks me into or out of at 1 today. Part of me is like... I just want this to be over with. Another part of me is like... stop being selfish and just wait. We'll see which part wins in the end. |
| J got up with Ethan last night and laid in his room on the floor with him for a bit. About 3-ish, he comes in and asks if it's OK to just bring him back to our bed because he wasn't going to sleep. I said sure. Little did I know that, by saying "sure" to him bringing E to bed, that I was also saying "Sure, I'll stay awake until he eventually goes back to sleep, 2 hours later, while you sleep less than 3 feet away." I wanted to slap J multiple times about the head and shoulders at that point. I especially got irked when he started snoring. Then he has the nerve to tell me to drop my grumpiness this morning when I told him to f-off because he propositioned me for sex. F- him, f- lack of sleep, f- this heartburn, f- the whole world this morning. I'm ready to explode, and in more ways than one. If I could flip a switch and go into labor, that switch would currently be in the "on" position. F- being pregnant for 40 weeks. I'm ready to write my notice of eviction. As in get the f- out of me now. I'm tired of having to sleep on my side and waking up with sore every-GD-thing after spending 2 hours trying to get an obstinant 2-year-old to go back to sleep at 4 am. You'd be served much better in the bassinet next to my bed because then I won't be so f-ing uncomfortable. Of course, it isn't this baby's fault that J completely copped out on our commitment to get E sleeping back in his own bed ALL night long. If Sam hadn't been there already, I would've slept on the couch last night, leaving J to deal with E, who thought it was time to play at 3 am this morning. F- playing at 3 am. Just f- this whole house. I'm tired and it's all their faults. F-ing assholes. |
| No baby. Not more than 3 contractions all night long, that woke me up anyway. I know I didn't have Ethan before he was 38 weeks, but I was also a lot smaller in the belly and not nearly as uncomfortable. At least, I don't remember being this uncomfortable. This is why I didn't want to know how dialated I was. It makes me impatient for this baby to come. They've already told me that there's no way I'm going to make it to my due date, which is only 2 1/2 weeks away, but damnit 2 weeks feels like forever at this rate. I thought about asking to have my membranes stripped at my next appointment if I haven't gone into labor by then and if Jason can go with me, but then I feel guilty because I don't want to make this baby comes before -he's- ready. I guess my decision to do so will depend upon how my contractions are coming and how far dialated I am by then. Yes, I'm impatient. I am done carrying this baby around without being able to see him. It's only fair that I get to be able to hold him soon. I've been carrying the little shit in my belly for almost 38 weeks now. It's about time he moved out and start letting me take care of him without all of the discomfort. lol. |
| I was up at 4 am with a bad, bad backache. I ended up going in to see my midwife, who gave me a urine screen to see if I had a UTI, which I knew I didn't. Then she checked my cervix. I'm 1 cm/soft/long and the baby is in a ready and waiting head-down position, but she said given my history that means I could go tomorrow or next week. The last time I got checked, I was 1 cm/long/softening, so I have progressed, although much slower than when I was pregnant with Ethan. She said she would make plans that the baby will be coming as soon as tomorrow but to bide our time. All I know is that I am ready for this kid to drop. I'm tired and my back hurts and, while being pregnant is a blessing, it gets old after a while. |
| I gave Ethan some Spiderman fruit snacks for his snacktime today. He ate the entire bag and then asked for more. I offered him some sunkist 100% fruit things, instead, which he ate all of and then asked for more Spiderman snacks. "How about some milk to drink?" I ask him. "I can no like to have a drink." He responded in earnest. "Are you sure? How about I get you some and if you're thirsty you can drink it." "I can no like to be thirsty." He responded. "Well, here's your milk and some blueberries." "I can no like to eat blueberries," he says as he stuffs them in his mouth. When he got finished with the handful of blueberries I gave him, he says, "Mommy, more blueberries?" "I thought you didn't like blueberries." "I can like blueberries. I eat more blueberries." Sometimes, I wonder how much of that is just to get my goat, and how much of it is just because he likes to be obstinant. |
| OK, so now that I've made myself sound like the most horrible mother in the world, today is a new day and I don't feel quite the same way as I did yesterday. There are a few factors that contributed to my grumpiness yesterday, other than the obvious lack of sleep and personal time. First, the codeine they have Ethan on makes him a whole different person. He becomes obnoxious and unbearable, given that he is normally very well behaved and loveable. I've decided to just give him Motrin during the day and codeine at bedtime because his pain levels have seemed to decrease. Second, I felt like I was getting no support from my husband because I was having to take care of everything. Granted, Jason was trying as hard as he could for the fact that he requires sleep, too, and also has to go to work for 9 hours a day and handle just about as many numbers as an accountant. He does have stress and a lot of other things to handle outside of home, but that still doesn't mean that he gets to come home and do nothing all evening, and that's what I felt like he was doing. So, we made some changes to the game plan. Jason took Ethan outside to blow off some steam last night for the first time since Sunday. I was kind of worried about that because I don't want him getting his burns dirty and/or injuring himself further, but I stepped back and let Jason do his thing. He needs to be able to feel confident in watching Ethan again, and this was a good opportunity to get started. J also made the executive decision that E was going to sleep in his bed last night. He figured we would all sleep better for it, and at least I would get the rest I require in order to function with my son during the day. J said that if E woke up during the night, he would get up and take care of it, even if it meant sleeping on E's bedroom floor, which he ended up doing. The only time I was to get up was to give E his 2 am dose of codeine. I had a hard time with that decision, mostly because I have been overbabying E since Sunday. I can't help it, though. I feel really bad that this happened to him, and this is my way for trying to make it up to him, I guess. This morning, E's still asleep. He was supposed to have some meds at 8 am, but I let him sleep instead because he hasn't been sleeping well, as demonstrated by his intolerable behavior and obscene crankiness the past couple of days. He usually never sleeps past 7 am, and if he does, is usually up by 8, but it's already 9:30 and he's still sleeping, so you know he was exhausted. If he isn't up by 10, I'll probably go get him up just because he needs to eat breakfast and doesn't need to sleep until noon. The extra sleep is nice for both of us, just because I've had about an hour of quiet time to just chill and wake up. I couldn't sleep anymore, myself, and kept dreaming that E was getting out of bed and getting into things. The last one I had, he had somehow managed to get into the drawer we keep a child lock on because it has his butt paste and stuff in it, and he had smeared some red crap all over his walls and carpet. I don't know what the red stuff was because we don't have any red stuff in that drawer, but it woke me up for good. lol. Hopefully the Motrin will work to keep the pain to a minimum and bring down some of the swelling. I really don't want to have to revert back to the codeine, if only because I would really like my sweet, loveable, little boy back, and not the freakin' codeine monster that's taken his place. I know he was in pain, and that it was necessary to treat it so he could be comfortable, but I really hate narcotic medications for what they do to a person. Now I better go get something to eat so that I'm ready to go when I get my son up in 20 minutes. Hopefully this extra sleep will have helped him. I know it helped me. |
| When you are down and out and feeling deflated, it's always good form to remember that someone out there probably has it worse than you to humble your complaints and make you feel a lot more fortunate than you might at that moment. I have a friend that I met through another friend on myspace. She lives here, in town, and was expecting a little girl about 8 weeks after me. I happened upon her because her name is also Melissa, and I snuck into her blog because I'm a voyeur like that. Her baby was considered small for gestational age due to problems with her high blood pressure, and I befriended her to try to give her support and encouragement, since Ethan was also considered SGA. She went to a scheduled u/s last week on Thursday to check the baby's growth and they found no heartbeat. The baby had died, and they don't know when. So she had to go in and be induced to deliver her dead baby. I can never, ever imagine having to go through something like this, and I feel guilty for the fact that I assured her just weeks ago that SGA babies are usually just as healthy as normal babies, just born smaller. Now she has no baby because her placenta gave out way too early and the baby had nothing to feed her and keep her alive. That kind of thing is every woman's worst fear. I have no clue what to say with her, other than that her and her family are in my thoughts. What else can I say? I have two healthy little boys and a husband who loves me. Right now, my life is pretty much perfect and I am most fortunate to have what I have. I really can't imagine what she is going through right now, having held her lifeless child and bury her before she even really got a chance to know her. I don't think I would be able to function or cope if I were in her shoes. |
| I honestly shouldn't be complaining, because it's a good thing, but I really wish that he was still a little more low key, if at least for just this morning. I'm freaking exhausted because both he and his father can't seem to leave me alone in the middle of the night lately. We've been letting him sleep in our bed just because it's easier for giving him the meds and getting him back to sleep. Plus I don't have to worry about if he pulls off his dressing or something that I won't know it until he's screaming, etc., etc. Let me begin first by saying that since Sunday night, I, the pregnant one, have been sleeping with my ass hanging off the bed and with only one of my two pillows because Ethan has been clingy to me. I haven't complained about it because it's par for the course. I haven't slept very well because of it, but I've made it a point to lay down and nap when he naps, as well, so I can get some extra sleep during the day. This, of course, has made Jason bitch because he gets up "just as much" as I do in the middle of the night and he doesn't get a nap, yet he doesn't get a nap and still has to get things done.  First of all, Ethan was getting his codeine at 1 am, 5 am, 9 am, etc. The only time Jason was getting up was to help me give him the codeine at 1 am and 5 am. I was the one getting up out of bed, measuring the stuff into the medicine dropper, and bringing it into the bedroom. This is kind of out of necessity because Jason is as blind as a goddamned bat and couldn't read the measurement to see how much meds to give him anyway. Add to that the 3,000,000 times I get up during the night to go to the bathroom, plus the 2 or 3 additional times that Ethan would wake up because his hand hurt or I had gotten up to go to the bathroom and he's an aware sleeper, even drugged up, and was upset because he thought I had left him. Jason slept through all of that shit. If he stirred or woke up, he didn't let on, and it's not like I needed him, so I left him alone to get sleep. Last night, though - last night, Ethan wanted Daddy, so Daddy got to have his ass hanging off the side of the bed and Ethan squeezed up against him. We went to bed at 10:00. By 11:15, he had woken me up twice because of one reason or another. My reflux then decided to kick in, so I had to get up the second time to get a glass of milk. SIX more times over the course of the night, either he woke me up because Ethan was "taking up too much room" or Ethan woke me up because he kicked me/rolled over to lay with me/his hand hurt. Every single time they woke me up, BOOM went my reflux and I felt like I was going to rip someone's head off. I drank almost a gallon of milk over the course of the night, which would help when I first drank it, but of course the next time I got woken up I would have to go get more. I'd come back and Jason would bitch at me because he hadn't gotten much sleep because every time I got up Ethan would wake up and cry for me. Then, this morning, he gets up to take a shower for work, and Ethan cried because he wanted his Daddy. I got him to calm down, but noticed he had leaked through his diaper. Being thoroughly exhausted, I waited for Jason because I had heard the electric razor shut off and I knew he was going to be there in a matter of 30 seconds to a minute. Jason walks in the bedroom door and I said, "Honey, his diaper leaked." That started a whole bitchcapade about how I should have gotten up to take care of it myself instead of letting my son sit in urine soaked pajamas and how he wasn't going to have time to even get dressed because he overslept and now he has to glue the house back together and save the world from certain destruction. That's started my day off on a whole wonderful note. It's made me bitchy and I'm tired and Ethan is being obstinant and I'm doing this all by myself with no energy. He thinks that it's all apple pie and ice cream for me at home with Ethan because I get to take a nap with him. Nevermind the fact that he is driving me up the wall right now because of one thing or another and has become very particular about things since he got burned. I've been trying very hard to be patient, because I would probably feel the same way if my hand hurt and it was all wrapped up and unusable, but for crying out loud, this kid has been up my ass for the past 2 1/2 days, not that I've minded, but I tried to just go pee this morning and he threw a fucking temper tantrum. I haven't been able to take a shower or have a moment's piece for the past 2 1/2 days. If I hear the words, "no," or "I don't want to," or, "I don't like it," come out of his mouth one more time, I think I might scream. He's never been so obstinant or uncooperative in his entire life, and he thinks that the rules aren't in application because he's injured, which is definitely not the case. I'm just feeling like a screaming banshee, if only on the inside, this morning. I have to get it out somewhere, because I'm seriously not going to take this out on Ethan. But, goddamnit, I'm tired and there's no reason to think my life, since Sunday, has been peaches and cream. I mean, for crying out loud, I had to have Jason come home instead of just meeting us at the doctor because Ethan absolutely refused to get dressed and did not want to go to the doctor. "I lay down, Mommy," he would say, and if I tried to move him, he would start screaming and kicking and acting like a total pissant. Yeah, if life has been so easy for me the past few days, I wouldn't have had to call him for help. The least he could do is be a little more considerate to the fact that taking care of an injured 2-year-old is ten times the work than a regular, happy, normal 2-year-old. He's witnessed it himself after coming home from work, so i don't know if he thinks that things just magically change while he's gone for the day. I'm just tired, and I'm almost looking forward to the baby coming because that means I'll get a break from an obstinant, whiny, crabby, sore, pitiful little boy. It's horrible to say, but right now, that seems like a cake walk as compared to this. At least a newborn can't talk back. |
Took him to the doctor. They took off his dressings. His poor little fingers look like overcooked sausages.  He didn't care to have the dressings off, so the doctor sent the nurse back in to redress him. I almost smacked her because she was going to smear the burn cream directly on his fingers, rather than on the nonstick thing and then put that on his fingers. Then she only put a small amount of the cream on the thing and then she only wrapped his fingers instead of his whole hand. I'm just sitting there thinking, who is the trained professional here? I had already decided that I was going to rewrap it when we got home. Then the doctor came in to check the dressing and didn't like it either, so he added some more. It looked horrible and uncomfortable and I still planned on redoing it. I just wasn't going to immediately redo it at that point, I was going to wait until he went to sleep tonight. I guess it was too tight, though, because he ended up pulling it off this evening and then freaked, so I had to redo it, but it looks a lot better and he acts like it feels a lot better. We also were told to give him a dose of codeine every 6 hours instead of every 4. His energy level has increased, but he's still being very careful for the most part. He has to go back for a recheck on Friday. Dr. A said that he'll be able to guage how long it will take for this to heal by then. He said it should heal fairly fast, given his age and the fact that he got treatment so fast. He gave us a pat on the back for administering first aid so quickly and taking him to the ER almost immediately because it will minimize the scarring. Anyway, I gotta get back to him. He's still running around like a ball of energy near 9 pm. It's the first time he's been nearly non-medicated for the past two days, so we're giving him a chance to burn off some energy, especially since he's spent hours and hours drugged up. Granted, we did give him a dose of codeine at 7, and it doesn't seem to be doing anything, but he's giving us a run for our money tonight! |
| Last night was the worst night of my life. EVAR. The day started off well. My neice, Sam, came over and we spent all afternoon having fun. We went swimming at J's parents' house, then went out to eat at Texas Corral and then shopping at Wal*Mart, where she helped me pick out a new robe for after the baby's born. I was exhausted by the time we got home, so I wanted to lay down while Jason took Ethan outside to play and Samantha played with all the shoes and clothes in my closet. Not long after 7, Jason brought Ethan in. He was screaming at the top of his lungs and it just sounded like something terrible was wrong by his cry. I immediately got out of bed and went to find out what was going on. Jason had been moving stuff around in the pole barn so we could store some furniture in there while they redid the front room. He had pulled the tractor out, and then he had let Sam drive it for a little bit around the back yard. Ethan was playing in his swing, so Jason wasn't too concerned about that. After Sam got done driving the tractor around, Jason moved it back into the pole barn where he is going to keep it until he either needs it again (we haven't needed to use it because our grass hasn't grown because we have had very near zero rain in the past month or so). He usually parks it with the nose, where the engine is, to the back wall of the barn. Ethan has never been able to get to it. This time, he parked it against the side wall, backed up against it, where the nose was accessible. Jason never thought that it would be a problem. Ethan was running around the pole barn and Jason was putting an extra garden hose away. He said he had been watching him and he never once seemed interested in the tractor, so he turned to put the hose in the raftors, and then he heard Ethan scream. He dropped the hose and ran over to Ethan, who held his hand out to Jason and kept screaming, "It's too hot! It's too hot!" So J grabbed him and came inside in a panic. He started to get some ice cubes to put on the burn, but I stopped him and turned the sink on and ran some cool (but not cold) water. We put Ethan's hand under the water and watched as the blisters began to bubble up on his right hand on his index, middle, and ring fingers. He kept screaming and screaming. J held him so he could keep his hand under the water. By then, Sam had come out of my bedroom to see what was going on. I asked her to go to the bathroom and get a washcloth then I got a sandwich bag and filled it with ice. We doused the washcloth in the same water that he held his hand under and I put it on his hand with the ice pack, then J took him to the living room and sat with him so we could figure out what to do next. I was pretty freaked out by then, so I called my Mom to see if she thought we should take him to the ER. My Mom said it would probably be a good idea, just to make sure that the burns didn't get infected and to get a proper burn wrap. I asked her to call Sam's mom, Lynette, and tell her that she could pick Sam up there because that's where we were headed and told her to give her J's cell phone number. We left the house in such a hurry that we didn't grab any of his comfort items. Not Gigi, not his blanket, nothing. When we got to the ER, he was just screaming unconsollably and I felt like the most horrible parent on the face of the earth. I had found a binky in the door of the van that I had kept for emergency purposes that I never threw away, so I was able to at least give him that, which was good because he kept wanting to chew on his burned fingers. The ER doctor ended up having to give him two doses of Tylenol with codiene before he would calm down enough to let them treat the burn. Once it got wrapped, he calmed down a lot more and fell asleep on top of Jason in the ER bed. They gave me the instructions of how to redress the burn, gave us a perscription for more Tylenol with codeine, and let us go home. This morning, he's pretty well zonked. The codeine is keeping him pretty well sedated and he's leaving the dressing alone, thankfully. He doesn't really want anyone or anything to touch his hand. When he woke up at around 9, he showed it to me and said, "Owie, Mommy." I kissed it and put it to my cheek and said, "Mommy will make it feel better." It was time for his next dose of codeine, so I gave it to him and he went right back to sleep. I feel just horrible about this. Jason blames himself, but I keep telling him that he was bound to have to learn firsthand what hot was. It sucks that he had to learn to this extreme, and I would have given anything to be the one on the hospital bed last night with second degree burns on 3 of the 5 fingers on my right hand, but unfortunately that wasn't an option. I never thought I would be able to remain calm in a situation where my kid was hurt, but I did. At least until we came home and went to bed. Then, it was like a wash of everything. I felt panic, fear, and all of those emotions that I couldn't while my baby needed me. It took me a good twenty minutes to calm myself down and another half hour or so to get to sleep. We've had to wake him up every four hours to take the codeine. His doctor said to continue the ER's dosage instructions until at least tomorrow, when he's seeing Ethan in the office. I'm hoping, at that point, we can switch to another pain management without having to completely knock him out. I like having a low-key day as much as the next person, but not at this price. In other news that's good, J's Mom only has a removable splint on her leg now, which means she can get back to the world of the mobile. This also means that we can revert back to either Plan A or Plan B, depending on how long between now and when the baby comes. I'm telling you, though, that he can't come this week, at least. I need to be able to take care of my little boy and his little brother is just going to have to wait. I've been having contractions at night in bed, but the minute they get bad enough to wake me up and I'm aware of them, they go away. I think it's because I've been willing them away. But anyway... it's about time for Ethan's next dose of codeine. Luckily, I got him up and around enough to eat some Cheerios and drink a cup of milk. We finally got him breaking the 30-pound mark. I don't want him dipping back below it again, like he did after that month-long battle with the flu. |
| Benadryl makes me so drunk. lol. I went to bed, couldn't get to sleep right away per usual because I couldn't get comfortable right away. I finally got to sleep and Ethan woke up because he had a bad dream or something. Jason got up with him, though, which was nice, because it allowed me the opportunity to spread out a little bit more and get to sleep. I woke up in the middle of the night sometime because I had to pee like a "rushin' racehorse." I know Benadryl has the tendency to throw my balance off and whatnot because it really knocks me out, so I tried to use the furniture and the walls as a guide to prevent myself from knocking into everything. The walk to the bathroom, from my side of the bed, is about 20-25 feet. In that distance, I tripped over a blanket, ran into the corner on my side of the bed, bumped into the bassinet, bumped back into Jason's corner of the bed, slingshotted off that to knock into J's dresser, hit the door frame to our bedroom, made it across the hall, knocked into the door frame for the bathroom, ran into the door itself, made it into the bathroom, and hit the corner opposite the toilet. I finally made it onto the toilet, did my thing, and pretty much bumped off everything on my journey back to bed. Pinball, anyone? I don't know if I can Benadryl sleep two nights in a row. It knocks me out hard, but it also takes me a long time to wake up. Plus it had worn off so my nose was stuffy and my sinuses were draining again and I spent a good 20 minutes gagging while everything cleared itself out. At least I feel well rested. Maybe I'll actually have the energy to clean today. I'm tired of looking at my front room, my bedroom, and bathroom. They're all cluttered and in need of a good dusting. God forbid Jason try to dust. I can't even get him to clean the toilet. |
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