A Difficult Road To A New Baby

Gosh, it’s been a long time since I wrote anything on here. Zol asked me about it today, “When’s the last time you wrote on your blog?” It’s been forever. There are a few reasons for that. I am now the proud mother of two beautiful girls. Graye is 3 in September and Jonah is just over 2 months old now. It’s been a long difficult year and it all started last February…

We discovered I was pregnant shortly after we started trying for our second. I’m not sure I was ready for number two at that point, but I thought maybe after 9 months of gestation I would have a different take on it. At week 11 I went in for an ultrasound to see how old the baby was at that point. The woman giving me the ultrasound would not make eye contact with me and answered all of my questions with “You’ll have to ask the doctor about that.” After the ultrasound was finished she said the doctor would speak to me in a few minutes and somebody would come get me. My stomach turned upside down as she closed the door. I ran my hand over my stomach and my heart started to beat faster and faster. After sitting by myself for 10 minutes the door opened and a woman took me to a back room with lots of people sitting at massive computer screens. She showed me to a chair and I sat down with an older Chinese woman.

In a heavy accent she said, “Sorry. Baby no good.” “Sorry what? Baby no good what?” “Baby no good.” Tears flooded into my eyes as I looked at the black blob on the computer screen. Before I could ask any questions she said, “You park out back? You wan tissue?” I took the tissue and stumbled to the back door pressing it open into the early evening light. My hands shook as I fumbled the key into my van door and climbed into my seat, slamming the door. A flood of tears fell over me and I struggled to find my phone. I paged Zol and waited for his call back. I answered, “The baby is dead… the baby is dead.” “What do you mean the baby is dead???” “I don’t know. I don’t know why but the baby is dead.” I sat there for 10 minutes till the tears had cleared enough for me to drive.

I had had no experience with miscarriages and it is an un-talked about experience in most circles. But it happens – it happens a LOT. For the next 2 months I physically dealt with it. There are pills you take to make the baby come out and they didn’t work for me. Weeks of bleeding and feeling horrible led to me running a very high fever. I was then given a D and C (they go in and take it out) and 3 weeks after I was finally back to normal – physically. Mentally I was a wreck. If you’ve ever had a baby growing inside you and felt the happiness and excitement it brings – all to be dashed on the rocks by some horrible person that says “Sorry, baby no good”… it is an extremely hard thing to deal with.

It was difficult to wrap my head around trying again, but we did and luckily I get pregnant easily. I waited until 15 weeks to tell friends and 15 weeks went safely up to 40. Baby Jonah gave me insane heartburn and a pulled groin (sexy!) for 9 months.

The birth of Jonah is a whole other story and that will be in part 2… stay tuned!

A New Place To Lay Our Heads - AND Birth A New Baby!

It was 2pm – dead center of Graye’s much needed afternoon nap when the house started to shake. The pounding sound that came along with it was deafening and I tried to grab a glimpse of what was happening in our carport below from my kitchen window. Turns out I didn’t need to see what was going on as just by listening I had a pretty good idea it was something stupid. “Dude! This is going to be FUCKING AWESOME!” The hammer wailed again and again and again and within the minute I was climbing the stairs to get my now awoken daughter. Zol came home later that afternoon saying, “So guess what the idiot downstairs has done?” “What?” “Enclosed the entire carport in with a big silver tarp.” Turns out he had tarped it to the point of me not being able to figure out how to get into the garage to give them their mail. After nearly falling on my face 2 times trying to get through the hidden opening I finally said something. Josh agreed it would be a good idea to move the mailbox outside of the tented carport. Josh. Who is Josh you ask? Josh is Sara’s boyfriend. Sara is the girl we originally had rented the suite downstairs. After a year she met him and he moved in, and then life went from good to bad again. Shall I describe Josh for you?

Throughout this entire description please attach the visual of a burning Du Maurier cigarette. He’s around 23 years old. Originally from Winnipeg, but out here to try and (escape his massive credit card bills in Manitoba) make some cash and enjoy the mild weather. Big baggy jeans with unattractive wear and tear billowing over faded puffy yellow skate shoes. In the cooler months he wears a hoody with a strangely unfashionable blue knit sweater jacket over top. It has caribou heads knitted into all parts of it. It’s hideous. He’s not overweight, but he’s not fit either. There is always 5 days growth of facial hair on his face – and not the sexy kind. His voice is booming and friendly and I would go as far to say authentic. Every conversation he starts makes you cringe as his opening lines sound something like these… “Soooooo I was thinking…” “OK – SO – what do you think about this?” “Hey Day? Would you have a problem with me…” “OK get THIS! You know that wall in our bedroom?” He’s the kind of guy that takes on a massive job and then takes forever to finish it. I’m married to one already and don’t need to live above one as well.

Along with the burning cigarette there is the constant haze of marijuana is his eyes. He is either super baked or really really freaking baked. I have no problem with smoking weed at all – what I have a problem with is the people he gets it from. After several months of him living here they started to trickle in. Our semi happy house went from OK to sketchy once again. I’ll not get into it, but over the past year the police were on our doorstep looking for him quite a few times. My patience was running thin again and I was ready to throw in the towel with renting this house. The 45 minute long showers, tarped in carport, the smell of weed in our house for hours (smells like a skunk is living downstairs) his dog that shits all over our backyard, the new puppy that barks incessantly for hours and hours and hours when left alone, the leaking pipes, the furnace that is now making exploding sounds… All these things took my last straw - and broke it.

My I mention that I am 6 and half months pregnant? My mind is racing ahead to a new baby in my arms come spring. As the situation downstairs appears to be escalating at an alarming pace my ‘nesting’ instincts have risen to a whole new level. The bitchy ‘I’m-going-to-get-what-I-need-to-make-my-home-safe-for-this-new-child’ kind of level. You just don't mess with that kind of estrogen - do you?

The phone rang 2 weeks ago. It was the landlord of Zol’s garage that he rents. He was in need of some new checks for 2011. My mind started racing… Speaking with Zol later I suggested he ask the guy if he had anything in the way of a HOUSE for us to rent. Within the next few days life spiraled quickly into something we had not conceived. He DID have a house. An ENTIRE house with NO tenants. It was in an area that I loved, walking distance to everything including one of my best friends 2 blocks away. Zol had not asked for the monthly rental price but the landlord told us to do a drive by if we wanted. That night we walked around the empty property. The rain was lightly falling. I held Graye in my arms and as we rounded the side of the house I put her down to inspect what seemed to be a small swimming pool and behind that a massive vegetable garden. Cucumbers , zucchini, tomatoes and fresh lettuce for dinner were already racing through my mind…

Barely able to sleep that night I hounded Zol the next day to find out the price. $400 over our budget. My heart sank but I knew the asking price was ridiculously low for what we’d be getting. I insisted on seeing the inside. I also made a call to mine and his parents who were both willing to help till after the new baby was born and we could figure out a new budget. The next day we walked the inside of the empty home. It was perfect. PERFECT. Zol looked at me and said “Sooooo….?” “Where do we sign?” I said back. He chuckled but I could hear apprehension in his laugh. A check was drawn up for the damage deposit and the place was ours.

Four days later and my house is a disaster. Boxes, full garbage bags, dirty floors. We have a 15 day cross over from this house to the new one but all I hear in my head is “Get me OUTTA here!” The stress of moving will be so worth it in the end. Our own place. Finally. I can birth baby girl number two in our new living room and scream my heart away with no thought of the ‘people downstairs’.

I’ll give you an update when all is said and done. Goodbye crazy house in South Vancouver and hello Hastings Sunrise!

Do they make pills for people that obsess about things that are safe to take while pregnant? I think I might need them…