Tuesday, July 31, 2012

The Start of Babe...a Little Late

John keeps telling me I need to post.
So I will.
Even if it's a little late.

Babe's pregnancy/birth story.

See, I told you it was late.
But in the end I figure she'll enjoy it the same even if I didn't post it days after it happened right?  I mean, she's only just now starting to read, so, it's not like she's been scrolling through this blog wondering why I didn't post this before.

John and I were wanting to get pregnant.  Like, we should have bought stock in pregnancy tests.  It seemed I was constantly peeing on little white sticks.
One month I decided to stop.  The anticipation, the disappointment-it was too much emotion for me to handle month after month.  It was, of course, that month that it seemed person after person looked at me stating "you're pregnant".  Despite my insistence that I wasn't, one of my friends (and John) wouldn't buy it.  So much so, that she drags me (and John and her husband) to her apartment to use one of her pregnancy tests.

It was negative.

See?  I wasn't pregnant.  I was never pregnant.

We had only been married about 5 months.  Yeah, I was impatient.

Meanwhile, John and I had a paper route.  Wake up at 3am, drive around, throw papers.  It was actually fun, we'd each take a side of the street and race to see who could make it back to the car first.  We enjoyed the time working together.  Well, one morning I was feeling a bit sick.  We did the route but we didn't race.  Then I'd ask John to take this street.  Then that street.  Bit by John filled in for what I couldn't seem to do.  Not so happily.  He was getting fairly annoyed (and sarcastic).  "Yeah, sure, and you only happen to get sick in the mornings!"

You see where this is going, right?  It's pretty obvious in retrospect but for some reason we were both pretty clueless.

When I finally started to catch on I took a test when John was at work (one of our other jobs-washing cars, I believe). 

I left the test on the bathroom sink and paced around the apartment until John got home.  Thinking, near daydreaming, about how I would tell him.  I'm pregnant.  We're pregnant.  You're going to be a father.  Hi, dad.  When I hear the door knob turn.
And he barrels past me-he needs to go to the bathroom.
Yep, not only was it totally not daydreamy at all...but I also left the test by the sink.
He knows.
And I didn't even get to try to be cutesy or sentimental.
He comes out, straight-faced.
"You saw it?"
"Well I already knew you were pregnant."

Yeah, yeah.  Thanks, honey:)

So we finally got clued in as to why I mysteriously was sick during the paper route and John took it over.  The morning sickness got pretty bad.  If I didn't get steak then I would throw up all day long-no joke.  If I did get steak then I'd only throw up until 2pm.  Again, no joke.  Poor John tried making them at home, too, but it didn't work.  So when we could we ate at Applebee's.  I'd eat half at the restaurant and save the other half for morning so I could limit the...expulsions. (Is there any polite way to say that?)
And again, poor John, that gave him a lot of cleaning to do.  You see, walking gave me motion sickness and despite the bathroom's close proximity to our bedroom, I never made it.  Literally, I never threw up in the toilet.  We had garbage cans strategically placed throughout the apartment.
When it got to the point that I was starting to loose weight (not too much, but starting) I told my doctor.
In my defense, I just assumed that everyone got that sick.  I mean, almost all pregnant women I had met complained about morning sickness.
Needless to say, I got on some anti-nausea medicine and that significantly reduced the intensity.

Most people take a lot of preggo pictures, especially with their first.  With a TON of nausea the first half and crazy weight gain the second, this is one of the few pictures of me pregnant with Babe.  I was about halfway through at this point.

The other major preggo symptom I had was this obnoxious rash.  It was right at the end.  The last month or so.  I had gained about 50lbs, it was June/July so I was even more swollen then I might have been otherwise, and then I get a rash.  We're talking bright red hives.  That's right.  On top of an extra 50lbs and swollen hands and feet and (probably) face I also was bright red with creepy bumps all over.  Try to picture that.  On second thought, no, please don't.  It was bad enough that when people would come over I'd go to another room and John would explain to them how I looked before I came in.  I like to think it was so they didn't think I was contagious.  It was probably just so they could temper their initial reaction.
My doctor told me that sometimes we react to the pregnancy and all the hormones.  Other than trying to keep me comfortable there wasn't much he could do.  Actually, at one appointment he did tell me that he had a magic solution.  It would solve everything.  The swelling, the rash-I'd probably even lose some weight!  Magic solution.  It was called "Labor".  I got a good laugh out of that one (let me tell you, it's way fun having a doctor you can laugh with).

That overview brings us up to the end of the pregnancy.  I think I'll save the birth for another post:)

Sunday, July 29, 2012

Update on us.

So I've been bothering my wife to write more in our blog.  She is hesitating for some reason.  So I'll do my best to fill the void.

Our girl turned 5 in July, and got a violin for her birthday.  A kid one.  Little did I know that there were sizes even smaller than the one we got for her!  Luckily for us, the strings teacher at the university happens to have contacts and a daughter.  Through his contacts, he found the right sized violin for Analee, and through his daughter, we're getting her some violin lessons.  Now all I need is to get a job so I can afford violin lessons and ballet lessons, and I think we're set with her.  She starts school soon, and is really excited about it, but I'm really not.  She's ready to start 1st grade, so I wonder if she'll get really bored in kindergarten.  I hope not.

I almost got a job at the 3rd-best school in the nation (BASIS Scottsdale, which is 5th in another metric), but finished 2nd in that race.  I wanted that one, too.  I got a call at 9 PM one night, but it came from the 480 area code (imagine that!).  I have a friend with a 480 number and didn't get past the area code, thinking it was him and that I was sleeping (until the phone rang), so I didn't want to answer it.  (My good wife, after the incident, said "his house is on fire, but you're tired.  You did the right thing."  Sarcastic little girl, isn't she?)  The next morning as I woke up at 2:40, I checked my phone.  There was a message.  So I listened.  It was BASIS, calling to say that they were very interested in me.  I'd turned in that application months ago!  So I waited until noon (!) to call Scottsdale.  In the mean time, my wife and I looked at housing in the area and school options for Analee and how long it'd take to get there and what we'd do with all of our accumulated stuff.  By lunch, I'd walked 10,000 steps, which is usually my entire day's output.  So I called and John Hillis, the school's head, said that he'd like to interview me in a couple of hours.  So more waiting.  You know how when you're waiting for something, time seems to almost stop?  Yeah.  Those two hours took forever.  Finally, the interview came.  Have you ever had one of those interviews that you know you just nailed it?  Yeah, that was it.  I nailed it.  I knew I did.  I nailed the interview so much, in fact, that I knew it'd come down to me and the interview after me.  That's how much I rocked that interview.  Mr. Hillis told me that they were rather rushed, so he'd try to get back to me that night.  More waiting.  Great.  Finally, I went to bed at about 9 PM.  My wife stayed up until midnight repeatedly checking my email.  At about 1:45 AM (so they were up late, even on West Coast standards), I finally got an email telling me that I finished 2nd in the race.  It wasn't unexpected, but still deflated me for a couple of hours.  I got the email at 2:40 when I woke up, and by 9 AM, I was back to being happy.  I'll get a job when the Lord wants me to.  I am applying everywhere, and will get a job on His time, not mine.  So I'm fine with not getting a teaching job this time.

That said, here's what I don't get.  Assuming the top 3 schools in the nation each have 3 history teachers, and I finished just outside the 3rd school, I'm the 10th best teacher in the nation, right?  (We all know I'm not, but bear with me.)  Why couldn't I get a call from Detroit (where I applied) or anywhere else in the nation?  Detroit's schools...  well, they aren't the best.  ...and yet, they wouldn't give me the time of day.  Weird, right?

Nevertheless, I'm happily continuing my search.  I'll be a full-time teacher yet.  When I am, I'm sure you'll read about it here.