Mairsy Dotes

"No faith is as solid as a wounded faith."

Knock knock knock and I knocked some more… October 31, 2006

Filed under: Uncategorized — beege @ 6:25 pm

I felt the baby move for the first time. 🙂

When my in-laws were here a few weeks’ ago, my MIL asked if I’d felt any movement yet. I replied that sometimes I thought I felt movement, but then I would toot, so I knew it wasn’t the baby.  Just flatulence.

My first morning of unemployment, M and I were celebrating by indulging in a “lying in” (I totally swiped that phrase from my Brit friends. I love it.), he snuggled up behind me and cupped his hand around my ever-increasing bulge and gave it a slight squeeze. At which point I felt two distinct taps against his hand. Of course, the baby is nowhere near big enough for M to have felt them, too, but I passed along the message, “The baby says, ‘Hi, Dad!'”

 So I’ve been the grateful recipient of taps and wiggles several times a day. This baby moves differently than Linnea. Nea felt like a little goldfish in there…Q has moved right on into the taps and dips and jabs. Not as many flutters. Of course, this baby has lived her entire life getting kneed, elbowed, and crowded in upon by her older sister, while Nea just had my gentle caresses along my belly. Perhaps wee Q is simply more active in self-defense, a  prenatal barbaric yawp, “I’m in here, dammit!”

Sweet, surprising, feisty, tenacious baby: you certainly are in there, and I couldn’t be happier about it.


Cravings… October 18, 2006

Filed under: Uncategorized — beege @ 5:01 pm

I didn’t get to have cravings with Linnea. I spent the 38.6 weeks she spent inside in a constant state of nausea. What I craved was a good, cleansing vomit. I think Dante missed a circle of hell, because there’s nothing quite so miserable as being so nauseous that you WANT to puke, and not being able to.  The cravings I did have? Crawfish etoufee, potstickers, and margaritas. It is virtually impossible to find either crawfish etoufee or potstickers in rural Kansas. And as far as the margaritas go: well, we all know those are a big no-no.

With Q: I’m having cravings. They come and go–a few weeks ago, I couldn’t get enough oreos into my system. Then it was jerky. Lately it’s been citrus fruit (specifically grapefruit, and I just peel those suckers and eat them like an orange–I was eating several a day, until I started getting sores from all the acid and M suggested that perhaps I’d ultimately be happier if I only ate ONE grapefruit a day. I’m not sure he’ll try and be helpful like that again, but damned if he wasn’t right…).

But my newest craving? The item I could eat every single day? Salmon Rillette. I’m not even sure if I’m spelling it right. One of my favorite restaurants in the country is just a few blocks from our house and they make a fabulous salmon rillette appetizer. But it’s expensive. And particularly now that I’ve quit: we can’t afford it. I need to find a recipe–it can’t be difficult. Smoked salmon, creme fraiche, some capers, and little croutony things to spread the rillette goodness on.

Crap. Now I’m totally jonesing…


The weeping! The hormones!

Filed under: Uncategorized — beege @ 11:53 am

I had a doctor’s appointment this morning. Because of the stuff early on, I’ve been going in to see my doc about every two weeks for the first trimester. Things have apparently evened out enough that I don’t have to go back to see her for an entire MONTH. Just like a normal pregnant woman!

She was fully in favor of my quitting my job. My BPs have been a little on the border-line side, and I think my job situation had a lot to do with that. She looked at me and said, “Beege, I think this is the best thing you could have done for the baby right now. You don’t need any extra stress–nobody does, but particularly not a pregnant woman. You did a good thing.”And while I had no doubts about it, having the affirmation of a woman who’s whole job is to take care of me and my baby say it was a good thing made me get all teary and hormotional.

My hormonal cup ranneth over when I got to hear the heartbeat again. 🙂 Strong, and sure, and loud, and located just a bit higher in my tummy than it had been. And still one of the best sounds in the entire freaking world.

 Now if we could just get the hemorrhoids under control, everything would be A-OK in my world. 😉


Not Sure How This Was Intended October 17, 2006

Filed under: Uncategorized — beege @ 8:15 pm

I saw a bumper sticker in a parking lot today.

It was on the back of a minivan–the sort of minivan that has a “John 3:16” license plate frame, and a fish on the back, and a “Warning: In Case of Rapture this Car Will Be Immediately Unmanned” sticker plastered across the back bumper.

However, the sticker that gave me pause was one that said, “Jesus is With Us.”

It sort of begs the question: how is one to read that?

Is it meant to be comforting? Sort of a religious version of “Slap on a little lipstick, you’ll be fine”? Keep your chin up, little camper, because Jesus is with us!

Perhaps it’s gloating? “Jesus is with US.” Not you. Because you suck, and we don’t, and why would Jesus hang out with you anyway?
Or maybe reassurance, “Don’t worry folks–if you can’t find Jesus in your car, it’s because he’s in ours. We’ve got him. He’s OK. We’ll make sure he gets home in one piece.”

No matter how you take it, it seems like a weird sentiment for a bumper sticker.


You know that scene in “Braveheart”…

Filed under: Uncategorized — beege @ 8:08 pm

…where William Wallace (the oh-so-yummy and not yet psychotically anti-Semitic–at least not in public–Mel Gibson) is being vivisectioned, and all they show is his head and neck from the side and the veins in his neck bulge as he arches his back and as the music swells and his friends watch in the crowd he screams, “FREEEEEEEEDOMMMMMMMM!” ?

I think I know how he felt.

I’ve resigned from my job. I was given an ultimatum–either submit to a disciplinary performance plan (which basically amounts to sucking up and doing all the things that my doctor has told me not to) or resign. The general feeling seemed to have been that I wasn’t performing my job in a satisfactory manner. Which, anyone (except my boss) will tell you is total horseshit. But with that ultimatum hanging over my head, in what I expected to be a very painful moment, a moment where I would have to cram all my pride into some hole deep inside and hope I wouldn’t need it ever again, a moment where I would have to look into the cold, calculating, glittering eyes of my soulless boss and meekly say, “Please, sir, may I have some more?”, after they had handed down their pronouncement, and waited for my whipped puppy impersonation, I felt–for the first time in a long time–a flutter of joy in my heart. I could walk away. I could be free. I could look this woman in the eye and say, “Bite me. I quit.” And I very nearly did. Instead, I asked for a day to think about it, went home, talked to M, realized that as far as this job goes: it’s not worth it, that we’ve got a ton of options, and the costs of working for this woman on my physical health, my mental health, and the general well-being of our family was not worth any price.

The next day I tendered my resignation.

My parents (until they talked with me and M and heard our plan for making it) thought I was nuts. My in-laws (who’d seen how my boss treated me) said I should have quit a long time ago, and my father-in-law cast aspersions on my boss’s relationship (or lack thereof) with any sort of higher spiritual being (his exact statement being, “Well, clearly she’s no Christian.” which while being a tad provincial, was also somehow comforting). The people I work with are in tears, but also glad that I’m getting out. And me? I’m like a whole new woman. Poor, pregnant, but happy.

I just really hit a turning point several weeks ago. I was laying in bed, bleeding, staring at the wall and I found myself thinking, “Maybe it would be easier if I just lost the baby. Work would be so much better.” I’m sorry, but ANY job that makes one ponder whether the death of one’s child is the perferable outcome to any situation is a job that one should quickly figure out a way to live without. Daily, I’d go to work and have to listen to snide comments about how my “condition” is making me less valuable, I’m not able to work as many hours or do as many tasks (which mostly translates to working 30 minutes less a day, and not climbing ladders or carrying heavy boxes), and that the other members of the management team are really having to take up a lot of my slack and they’re really starting to resent it, etc. It just got to be too much.

And now: it’s somebody else’s problem. For the first time in nearly 14 weeks I’m unabashedly giddy about this baby. It’s not a burden to be overcome or hidden–it’s a little person in there, to be celebrated and protected and touched and talked to! Planned for! Dreamed about! I’m on the threshold of my second trimester–and all the questions and worries and wonderings of the earlier weeks are behind me, and in about 8 days time: the soul-sucking hell that is my job will be, too.

A few days before The Day of the Ultimatum that Meant to Crush my Spirit but Actually Set Me Free, M and I went for a long drive. We got into a deep coversation, where I bemoaned the fact that lately the only prayer I could come up with was the prayer of Jacob while he wrestled with the angel, “I’m not letting go until you bless me.” Not that it’s a bad prayer, but it’s certainly not a warm and fuzzy one, either. But later that night, laying in bed, those words came to me again, but this time in response I heard, “Well, so hold on then!” Seems like good advice to me.


I had a “Peach” of a day! October 14, 2006

Filed under: Uncategorized — beege @ 1:55 pm

We had an associate at work who took a month off to tool aruond Germany with her husband. Her first day back was Thursday, and she’d brought German chocolates for everyone! But she pulled me aside and said, “I had to be extra careful with yours.” Mystified, I watched as she pulled out a small baggy of chocolates. Inside was a most wonderous thing.

 It was a KinderEgg!!!!!

 Now, if you don’t know about the magic and wonder that are KinderEggs, check out my sweet friend, Dix. She’s a devoted fan. In fact, it’s only because of Dix that I even knew what a KinderEgg was. For those of you not in the KinderEgg loop: it’s a hollow chocolate egg with a toy inside. Dianne had managed to bring it all the way back from Germany, uncrushed, for Linnea. It was the sweetest thing she could have done! And Linnea? LOVED it.

Sometimes the smallest things can make the biggest difference in your day. Not only did I get to bring Nea home a lovely treat, I got to think of my friend Dixie. Life was good. 🙂