I had my first real pregnancy cry today, and it wasn't over something cute or sad. I mean, I've come close to bursting into tears over the thought of my husband holding our freshly squeeze baby, but so far I've managed to keep my cool. No, this was because I was completely overwhelmed. Pregnancy has not been fun for me so far. Head cold, nausea, general discomfort, never ending fatigue, bronchitis, and now a bladder and yeast infection... yes at the same time. The bladder infection was news to me. I had none of the traditional symptoms except pain in my stomach (which is scary for a never-been-pregnant-before woman), and the yeast infection is from the antibiotic I was taking for the bronchitis. All of this and I can't get proper health insurance. The health insurance is what sent me over the edge today.
A nurse had mentioned something about a "spousal refusal form" as a way of helping me get access to medicaid, which is really my only option at this point. So I went to my local DSS and asked for the form only to be told "we don't do that anymore." I went back to my car and cried right there in the parking lot.
Now I understand why they don't do that any more. It's a tricky way to get around having a spouse that earns a decent income. I'm not usually about doing these kind of tricky things, but the problem is that I've been put into a corner. I need health insurance, and no one will cover me. There aren't many viable options for middle income pregnant women.
So I'm back to square one with the health insurance, which basically means we're going to go very deeply into debt to make sure we have a healthy baby and Mama. So far my medical bills have been close to $3000. I don't make that much in a month. And it's not like we don't have bills. We might be middle income, but we don't have the luxury of middle income parents who helped us get our feet under us. We have rent, car payments, credit card bills, student loans, and utilities. Oh and we have to eat. I know we're not poor. I'm not, as my grandmother would say, pleading poverty. I know what it is like to be poor, and this isn't it, but we don't live high on the hog either. I mean, we don't even have cable television. I've tried to keep our expenses low. I use coupons when shopping, and don't buy anything we don't need.
You might be thinking "Then why did you go and get pregnant?" Well, I obviously didn't know that getting health insurance would be such a problem. I actually thought I'd be able to get on my husband's insurance. Funny thing is though that pregnancy isn't considered a life changing event. Tell that to my uterus! The birth of a child is considered life changing, but pregnancy isn't. The problem with this kind of thinking is that in order to have a happy, healthy baby, you need to get prenatal care, especially if you have a high risk pregnancy. (My pregnancy is not considered high risk, but I am at a great risk of complications like gestational diabetes because I'm over weight.)
Today at the doctors, I heard the babies heart beat. I turned to the doctor/resident and said, "Can you make sure there's only one in there?"
"Why? Are you predisposed?"
"No, but it would just make sense with the way my life's been going lately."
I don't think she heard two heart beats, but she didn't listen very hard. It'd be just my luck.
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Searching for Connections
It's weird. Somehow, having a baby has inspired in me this longing for deeper connections to the people in my life. Family that I haven't spoken to in years suddenly seem important, the reasons for my silence tucked away if not forgotten. Is it an instinctual desire to reach out for help and support during this time when I need so much of it? When life is so scary.
My mother and my maternal grandmother, both name Nannette, passed away with in two years of each other. To be honest, my mother and I weren't that close. I moved out at the age of 13, and while I loved her, and stayed in contact, our relationship was not that of a normal mother and child. I try to remember her and they good times we shared together, dancing, and singing, but it all feels so far away. She protected me fiercely, taught me to be a strong woman, and to take shit from no one.
My grandmother's death almost undid me. It has been almost three years, and I still can't face it completely. I take sideways glances at it, letting myself look, but not completely. There I things I can't bring myself to even think about that shake my heart. I have not made it though the denial stages. I know she is not in this world any more. I tell myself it, but in my core, I cannot let myself believe it as a fact or perhaps I don't want to. It is easier after all. The day of her services, I cried until my nose bled, but in the hospital, when I saw her, I was stoic. My grandfather crumbled before me, and I pushed my emotions down to my toes, far away from my heart. We can't all fall apart, can we? I let myself feel it in pieces later, and even though I only took sideways glances as it, it was too much. It was too hard. To this day, I don't know how I'm living with out her.
And the point is, my grandmother and my mother are the only two people (besides Damian) who I really truly need right now, and they're the only two people I can't have. So I'm searching for connections that make sense, to my friends who live far away and my remaining family, but I still feel like somethings missing, mostly because something is.
This probably sounds depressing, but it's not meant to be, nor am I depressed. I'm just having a moment of thoughtful, self-awareness.
My mother and my maternal grandmother, both name Nannette, passed away with in two years of each other. To be honest, my mother and I weren't that close. I moved out at the age of 13, and while I loved her, and stayed in contact, our relationship was not that of a normal mother and child. I try to remember her and they good times we shared together, dancing, and singing, but it all feels so far away. She protected me fiercely, taught me to be a strong woman, and to take shit from no one.
My grandmother's death almost undid me. It has been almost three years, and I still can't face it completely. I take sideways glances at it, letting myself look, but not completely. There I things I can't bring myself to even think about that shake my heart. I have not made it though the denial stages. I know she is not in this world any more. I tell myself it, but in my core, I cannot let myself believe it as a fact or perhaps I don't want to. It is easier after all. The day of her services, I cried until my nose bled, but in the hospital, when I saw her, I was stoic. My grandfather crumbled before me, and I pushed my emotions down to my toes, far away from my heart. We can't all fall apart, can we? I let myself feel it in pieces later, and even though I only took sideways glances as it, it was too much. It was too hard. To this day, I don't know how I'm living with out her.
And the point is, my grandmother and my mother are the only two people (besides Damian) who I really truly need right now, and they're the only two people I can't have. So I'm searching for connections that make sense, to my friends who live far away and my remaining family, but I still feel like somethings missing, mostly because something is.
This probably sounds depressing, but it's not meant to be, nor am I depressed. I'm just having a moment of thoughtful, self-awareness.
Monday, February 11, 2013
Rest for the weary
So I started the blog and let it sit. This is what happens, but the good thing is that I know that no one reads it and so I don't have to feel bad about it. Liberation through invisibility! Huzzah for being unknown!
The reason for the silence has been a good one, kind of. I haven't been feeling well, you see, well, because I'm about 11 weeks pregnant. (Yay!) We are both very excited and happy about this, but boy is it hard work being pregnant. The nausea is just barely beginning to subside, but I'm still pretty fatigued. My life currently consists of work, forcing myself to eat, and sleeping. I sleep a lot. Sometimes I sleep because I don't want to feel nauseous any more, most of the time it is because I can't keep my eyes open another second longer.
But the nausea is the worst. I'm usually pretty good when I'm sick. I'm the kind of person that can "suck it up" and go to work and tough it out any way (with a little help from my friend NyQuil), but there's something about feeling nauseous that turns me into a big, whining baby. Lucky for me, it's not so bad that I'm actually throwing up, and I'm managing to eat a bit. It's nothing compared to what some women deal with. Knowing this doesn't make it any easier on me though. In fact, it kind of makes me feel worse.
How am I feeling otherwise? Emotionally? Worried and a little stressed because of money issues (I don't currently have health insurance despite working 40 hours a week), but I'm so happy that I'm going to be a mom, and that I'm starting a family with the best husband in the whole world. I'm very lucky to have him as my teammate in all of this.
Other news? I hope to get back to my crocheting once I start being able to eat again, and there are some recipes I'm dying to try. I have my fingers crossed for a full recovery by next week.
The reason for the silence has been a good one, kind of. I haven't been feeling well, you see, well, because I'm about 11 weeks pregnant. (Yay!) We are both very excited and happy about this, but boy is it hard work being pregnant. The nausea is just barely beginning to subside, but I'm still pretty fatigued. My life currently consists of work, forcing myself to eat, and sleeping. I sleep a lot. Sometimes I sleep because I don't want to feel nauseous any more, most of the time it is because I can't keep my eyes open another second longer.
But the nausea is the worst. I'm usually pretty good when I'm sick. I'm the kind of person that can "suck it up" and go to work and tough it out any way (with a little help from my friend NyQuil), but there's something about feeling nauseous that turns me into a big, whining baby. Lucky for me, it's not so bad that I'm actually throwing up, and I'm managing to eat a bit. It's nothing compared to what some women deal with. Knowing this doesn't make it any easier on me though. In fact, it kind of makes me feel worse.
How am I feeling otherwise? Emotionally? Worried and a little stressed because of money issues (I don't currently have health insurance despite working 40 hours a week), but I'm so happy that I'm going to be a mom, and that I'm starting a family with the best husband in the whole world. I'm very lucky to have him as my teammate in all of this.
Other news? I hope to get back to my crocheting once I start being able to eat again, and there are some recipes I'm dying to try. I have my fingers crossed for a full recovery by next week.
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