It’s probably the combination of the bowling alley nachos I ate on Saturday and the 3 pounds of veggies I ate yesterday to make up for it, but the thought of regular pants made me want to weep.
I bought the “No Need to Suck it in!” Jeans this weekend at the maternity store. Jon, being the trooper that he is, tagged along. I think he was mostly motivated by the fact that I was also in the market for a new bra. The sales girl asked me how far along I am, and when I told her 14 weeks, she looked at me with a confused eye, all “Are you sure you need these already?” Girl, yes.
People. These jeans. Remember how Joey said they were his “Thanksgiving Pants?” Well, I wish I would have listened to him sooner. Buffet pants. Christmas Pants. Bowling Alley Nachos Pants.
I never in a million years contemplated being a Stay At Hom Mom. Ever.
I’ve worked since I was 15 years old. I pride myself on being independent, and I enjoy working (even though I don’t always enjoy the job itself). I have a love/hate relationship with getting up every morning and driving into a job. I love having a routine, a purpose. But sometimes I hate being tied to a 9 to 5 gig and not being responsible for just me and my day.
Lately I’ve been thinking about what to do once the baby comes. I’m in a unique situation, mainly because I work at a company where I am the only employee. 2 owners and me. Which means I don’t qualify for any law-protected leave. I also don’t have any health benefits, and I will most likely not be paid for any leave I take.
Being due in August, the “normal” 12 week leave (if I get it) would put me returning to work in November. We always travel for the holidays, taking the 2-day drive back to Maine to see family and friends for a week or so. This year it will be more special than ever.
So my dilemma is… do I quit my job, stay at home for a few months (or a year?) and then look for another job later? Or do I try to work out something with my current employer, maybe a mix of work from home/come into the office a few days (and try to get extra vacation for Chirstmas)?
I don’t know how I’m going to feel about working once the baby comes. I’ve heard stories of people completely changing their tune once the little one comes along… career-driven ladies who fall completely into the SAHM camp. And vice versa. The ladies who end up needing to get back to work after a few months.
I like my identity as a worker. I feel a sense of purpose and worth, even though my paycheck is small. In July I left a high-paying, VERY high-stress job for a low-paying, low-stress “fun” job. I don’t have any benefits (other than not needing to go to a therapist) and I don’t have a ton of vacation. But I do have flexibility and supportive, cool employers. Am I willing to give that up for a couple of extra months of leave? I obviously haven’t spoken with them yet about the options, but given their pretty strict 2-weeks-of-vacation-only stance, I’m sure the possibilities are pretty limited.
We can financially survive on J’s income with only some minor lifestyle changes. But can I mentally survive at home, without constant adult interaction? I’m not a joiner. I’m not the type of person to get all involved in a Mommy and Me group or baby-yoga. I think my best bet would be to try to meet some cool moms in birthing classes or prenatal yoga and try to create a network of people I can make playdates with.
I’m torn. It’s all or nothing. I have to quit my job before the bambino comes, if extended leave is the route I choose. But how long will it take for me to find another job? Will I go crazy before I am re-employed? Will I fall in love with being at home and never want to go back? These are all possibilities, as much as I can’t imagine them being reality.
Yesterday I threw up at Target.
It was my first full-on bout of morning sickness. I was in the cutlery aisle, and my face flushed with that tell-tale sign of cold sweat-ery. I knew right away what was about to happen, thanks to my long history with hangovers. I ran—literally ran— to the restroom and took the first stall, cutting in front of a woman who was inspecting the last stall for occupancy.
A Target bathroom on a very busy Sunday is not the place I would have liked to experience my first “real” morning sickness episode, but I guess it makes for a good story.
My symptoms so far: ALL OF THE BLOATING. Oh God the bloating. Also, my girls feel like they went 3 rounds with Holyfield and lost.
I decide to share with my internet friends before I even shared with my extended family.
Because I have been documenting my life for the past howevermany months. Turned years. I’ve spoken a lot about my decision to want babies, the struggle of the making of the babies, and the pain of losing one. Because that’s what it’s for, this place of mine on the internet. To share my life.
People regard miscarriages as something to be left private, to not share. I disagree, for myself. I’m an open person. And I use my blog to share what’s going on in my life, painful or otherwise. And losing a pregnancy is one of the most painful things I’ve ever experienced. The support I received from the Tumblr community help me get through that time, in ways I never imagined.
So yes, it’s early. WAY early. And if I have to come back here and make a different announcement then I will (but I won’t have to. I won’t have to).
But this is something I couldn’t for the life of me contain. It’s just too good.
I may have peed on 8 tests in the past 2 days.
In my defense, today is the day the lady in red is supposed to stop by, and there is no sign of her yet. There must be some traffic on the highways.
We’re keeping our journey to Baby Bee mostly a secret. Our family knows about our long road so far, but our friends are unaware. Mainly because we think they won’t understand.
We have an amazing group of friends. They’re fun. They’re supportive. They’re also single. Almost all of our close friends here in Georgia are unmarried. Livin’ the easy life. To them, babies are a scary burden.
So we stay quiet. We keep the possibility of BB to ourselves. And that’s ok. Because it’s kind of more fun that way. Something we share, that we can hold close and talk about in the darkness of our bedroom as we fall asleep. And that’s pretty neat.
Making babies is not as easy as we were led to believe in middle school. Or on Teen Mom.
It’s been 13 months since the miscarriage. 13 months since we decided to give it a rest. 13 months since it had been one year of trying. And now we’re ready again.
Here’s to you, BabyBee. Hurry up.