Love Is Fear

Hey ladies, howzit?

I am such a hot f*cking mess. I have so much I need to talk about here.

First off, I am dizzy. I have been dizzy for a week. I’ve seen an urgent care doc, an ENT, an Audiologist, and a Chiropractor. Though no diagnosis has been made, it appears as though my muscles are suuuuper tense and my cervical spine is jacked. I’m more irritated about the inconvenience than by the discomfort. I’m taking loads of NSAIDs and some muscle relaxers and using a heating pad and seeing the chiropractor again on Saturday. But I have sh*t to do and it’s been holding me back for a week.

Then I got my period. I now have a 28 day cycle since I’ve weaned to just taking one Domperidone tablet per day (for milk supply). It’s weird, because I’ve always had a 30-31 day cycle in the past. What does this indicate about my fertility? Is it good?

I’m thinking a lot about TTC again. I really want another baby. I am starting to feel pangs of envy when I see a pregnancy announcement, even though we are not trying. I worry that my biological clock is “ticking”–will be 37 soon–and I feel pressure. People have asked me “Will you have another?” and I choke up–they say it casually, as though it’s MY choice, like “Will you have fries with that?” We just observed October 15th and I remembered the babies I lost. I just moved to the South and as I make friends and tell my story I am reminded that I suffered through SIX IUI’s to conceive my BG. I DON’T KNOW if I will have another baby in my arms. I guess part of wanting to TTC is because I want to KNOW if I will have my baby #2 (God willing)…or not. I am tired of not knowing. I am tired of living in fear of more losses and more infertility.

I want peace of mind, and I cannot have it until I am done TTC.

I miss my Dr. Angel, who held my hand through infertility treatments and my pregnancy with BG. He is irreplaceable. But I finally started searching for a new OBGYN in my new Southern home. I finally found one who made an impression based on his bio and online reviews, and couldn’t get an appointment until the end of December. Which is fine because I’m not ready to TTC yet–I feel unprepared.

First off, I need progesterone support. With BG, my progesterone was a paltry 11 at 15dpo, and the absolute lowest it can be to support a pregnancy is 9. So I want a prescription for progesterone–filled–before we TTC. I actually called our new prescription insurance the other day to find out if they cover progesterone. They do, but only generic 100mg or 200mg capsules, or PIO. Given that even on crinone my progesterone barely creeped up to 20, I should probably just bite the bullet and do the PIO, right? A 3 month supply is only $31 under my insurance. Whereas a 15 day supply of Crinone paying OOP is $75 (so $150 per month). I might rather “pay the man” for the Crinone though, and save my a**. Ya think?

Then I gave myself Heparin shots 2x a day through my pregnancy with BG, based on the fact that I had tested positive for ANA’s, had two prior losses, and a ‘gut feeling’ of Dr. Angel. None of these things by themselves indicate a clotting issue. But I think I am going to lobby the new OBGYN to put me on Heparin if I get pregnant again. Even though it f*cking sucks. So bad. An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, IMHO. And my insurance will cover it.

And then there was the PPA I experienced (even now) after giving birth. The gut-wrenching fear that something bad will happen to my baby. And it will be my fault. Even now, I can barely drive on the freeways in our new city because there are a lot of accidents–I tack on an extra 15-30 minutes everywhere I go just to avoid the freeway. It’s not quite irrational, but it’s also not “normal”.

I only just reached the point where I can imagine going through all this again. Where I can allow myself to revisit the past, recognize my fears, take a deep breathe, and cautiously begin to go through the motions of preparing to TTC again.

It is easier, because I have my BG. But TTC is still heavy and scary and quite serious.

Speaking of scary and quite serious, I accompanied Mr. MLACS to his first appointment with his new Cardiologist last week. GOOD NEWS! His EF is up from 31% to 51% since April! That is almost “normal”! And the doc switched him from Lisinopril to Entresto, which will supposedly markedly increase his life expectancy! The doc definitely wants him to lose weight but wasn’t a dick about it. They are still considering outfitting him with a defibrulator (internally, on his heart). I wish they would give it to him, on the chance he would have a heart attack and it might save his life. I am afraid of losing him. I do not know how to let go of that fear. I get mad because I feel like HE causes my fear and anxiety since HE has neglected to lose the weight he needs to lose and generally take better care of himself. I’m so sick and tired of caring more about his health than he does. I have enough f*cking problems dealing with my own health.

And then dealing with a toddler. And moving. And life. I’m tired. Actually, I’m exhausted. And apparently, my neck muscles are so tense from stress that I literally can’t f*cking see straight.

I just want to run away sometimes. I just want to not care so damn much.

I just want STOP BEING AFRAID of losing people I love (including babies I have not even conceived yet).








18 Months


Well this is a bit overdue because BG will be 19 months tomorrow, but I wanted to post 18 months because it feels like a milestone…

This past month has been… difficult.

BG experienced an explosion of growth both physically and mentally.

At her 18 month check-up, she measured greater than the 99% for height and head circumference (so, off the charts) and 90th percentile for weight. She is wearing 18-24 month clothing, and can still wear her 12-18 month clothing–except the length is too short. I’ve already begun to buy and dress her in 2T clothing, and honestly for length she can totally wear 3T but the width is too big.

People in Louisiana (Cajuns) are apparently a bit shorter (in general) than the corn-fed German folk of the Midwest, owing to their French-Spanish roots. This is noteworthy because BG is taller than any of the boys her age, and at least one of the mothers felt the need to point it out–she was *horrified* when she found out our kids were the same age but my daughter is inches taller than her son. This depresses me because I fully realize that BG will be ostracized for her height and made to feel bad by insecure people who think women should be petite with child-bearing hips and be barefoot in the kitchen.

Of course I’ll teach her that they are idiots.

BG and I have been checking out parks with friends and she is getting better at climbing and braver about going down slides. In fact, I am afraid of heights and some of the slides she expects me to go down with her are pretty freakin’ steep for my taste.

It’s hard when your kid is braver than you are.

And my toddler is getting bolder by the day! Oh man, the AT-TI-TUDE. If she wants something she wants it NOW–I ask her to “please be patient” but it’s useless. She will whine and scream until her bidding is done. She still hits but lately only me, not other kids. I notice her behavior takes a turn when she wants my attention or when she is tired, so I try to stay one step ahead of her in order to curb the behaviors. Sometimes it works.

Other times I am calling Mr. MLACS every 20 minutes asking when he’ll be home.


Ok, so back to BG. She is really trying to talk but only a handful of words are clear. She uses lots of pointing, squealing, crying, and tugging on me to get her point across. She is easily frustrated and has nelt downs. I do my best to help her articulate herself. But sometimes I’m busy and I don’t respond quickly enough and she melts down and all I can do is scowl and wait for her to catch her breath.

Her impatience–she gets that from me.

But the good stuff… there are a lot of precious moments at 18 months. We took her to build-a-bear and she picked out a puppy and now this stuffed puppy is ger faaaaavorite. BG feeds her puffs and takes her on walks on her leash, brushes her, etc. BG gets excited about all the little things, like when I let her help me bake, or ask her to throw away trash/open the fridge/put groceries in the cart/etc. It’s adorable to see her light up when she takes part in everyday tasks! She loves to dance and it is the cuuutest thing to watch her twirl and shake her tush to The Wiggles, and she often reaches for me so we can dance together holding hands.

In those moments that my heart could burst with happiness!

And BG gives me big sloppy kisses now, which is new. She also kisses Mr. MLACS, but I do not encourage kissing other people. We blow kisses or high-five. I definitely do not believe in forcing affection on kids or from kids, so you’ll never hear me tell BG to give someone a hug or a kiss. I cringe at that. She has been extra cuddly at times because she has been teething hardcore. If I’m busy and she wants to be held I just pop her in our silk ringsling or her toddler tula. I haven’t seen a lot of babywearing folk around here, so no “tula in the wild” calls yet.

We are STILL nursing! Can you believe it?! I feel so lucky to have come this far. No lie though, I’m ready to quit whenever she is. Maybe even before she is, though I do not want to deal with weaning her before she is ready. She was just nursing at wake/naps/bed, but now that she’s teething and going through this big growth spurt/leap, she is on the boob constantly.

This month has been challenging for BG and I both–moreso for her, because it’s tough growing inches, cutting teeth, and navigating new physical and mental abilities each day. When she falls or gets mad sometimes I hold her and I tell her “I know it’s hard being little”. I get it. I know I’m not always as fair or understanding as I should be, but I try.

I love her SO much ❤