Out with the old and in with the new

Happy February!

Ok, so normally this is the attitude most people have when crossing the December-January threshold, but that wasn’t quite as meaningful for me.  It’s not that I was thrilled to end the year, or the month of December, but I’m thrilled to be finished with January. 

I put my mind and body through the wringer. 

When I look back at the first month in this new year, it was crazy.  Period from hell, stopping the pill, and a laparoscopic surgery all in the first week.  By week two I was a bloated, blubbering mess, not knowing what was wrong with me and certainly not myself.  Week three I was finally physically and mentally able to get back to my usual resolution of getting healthy and back into my workout routine.  Wrapping up week four was fairly similiar to the beginning of the year.  Another period from hell.  Different from the last in the sense that it’s the first one off the pill.  I’ve been warned about this experience. 

Today, day one of the next phase of my life, brought me to the doctor’s office.  We had a lot to talk about.  The results from my surgery (this time I wasn’t too groggy to comprehend), and of course the recent mammogram tizzy.  In regards to the surgery, the endometriosis had returned.  I already knew this, whether he told me or not.   I asked him the level of severity and he said it was moderate to severe.  But he also said not to worry, that it’s a slow-growing disease that shouldn’t interfere much with my fertility at this point.  My left ovary was worse than the right.  It had a lot of adhesions on it and apparently it was fused to places it didn’t belong, like stuck to other organs. 

Eww!

Guess that would explain some of the weird pains and general discomfort I was feeling off and on.  As for the the mammogram, he said everything is fine.  Explained that they definitely want a really good xray this first time around.  After all, it’s the one that all subsequent xrays will be compared to for the rest of my life basically.  It was a scary, yet necessary ordeal that I went through. 

So hubby and I got the green light.  Well, sort of.  Even though we are really excited to start trying, the doctor advised us to wait one more cycle.  He said if it happened, it would be ok, but ideally we should wait one more month.  He sent me home with like 4 different samples of prenatal vitamins to try out. 

I told my husband that this one extra month is not the end of the world.  I think we should use it to get really mentally prepared.  Get healthy, get fit, get organized financially with a plan in place to pay off some bills, and basically enjoy life while we can, before the roller coaster of emotions we will deal with is upon us. 

It will be in with the new all over again with another month.  We just don’t know which one yet. 

Whew!

The biggest relief of my life today. 

I could not sleep last night. I kept waking up worrying about my call-back mammogram testing this morning.  I literally dreamt of boobs.  No joke.  Like all sorts of women I know, friends, whoever, all talking about boobs.  Comparing boobs, talking about boobs, boob jobs.  It was the most ridiculous dream.  I couldn’t make this up if I tried.  And in this dream, I felt left out or like I was viewing all this from some remote island. 

I woke up like WTF? 

Oh yeah, I suppose this has something to do with my test today. 

Then in the shower, I kid you not, the song “Isn’t it Ironic?” was looped in my brain.  I don’t even know the last time I heard that song.  It wasn’t recent but the radio in my mind was blaring it on 10. 

So many women in my life for the past week have told me “I’ll be fine” or “it will be nothing”.  And while on one hand that’s easy to believe, I know so many women who have had scares, some of them cancer.   So I couldn’t help but feel like the odds were 50/50 today for me. 

When I got to the breast center at the hospital I was impressed with their facility and waiting area.  It was very calming and warm rich colors.  Similar to colors at my house and not the usual outdated peach, seafoam, rose or mauve colors with an icky wallpaper border peeling away from the corners that you see in a lot of facilities in desperate need of a facelift.  It was up-to-date and lovely. 

When I got called in everything starts to feel surreal.  You kinda listen but it’s hard to concentrate.  The waiting is the worst.  I waited to get called into the room, freezing in my little robe.  I saw the equipment and realized last week’s mammogram-torture device was probably called “junior”. This one was definitely more high-tech.  

We went over my previous films and I had no idea what I was looking at.  She explained that since this was my baseline and that I’m still young, the call-back can sometimes happen with dense breasts.  She felt there wouldn’t be a problem but explained that they have to go thru all the necessary steps. 

Apparently, being squished even worse than the first time, like crepe vs pancake, was the next step.  She squished me in all different directions using several different plates, I’m not gonna lie, this time . . .

it hurt. 

It was like my ears were going in and out of consciousness.  We’d start to talk and then I just wasn’t hearing her.  Between the pain and the fear, she was muffled to me.  Now she’s drawing on my breast and I’m like oh that’s it.  X marks the spot.  That’s where the cancer is. 

I waited for what felt like a year for the results. 

When she came back in and the first word out of her mouth was, “Ok…”, I knew right then and there we were going to the next step.  I don’t know how but I knew.  Maybe it was her tone or her pause or just my ridiculous intuition. 

I had to have the ultrasound step.  “Just in case.”

The wait for this step felt like an eternity.  My mind was killing me.  I wanted to call my mom.   I wanted to call my husband.  But I couldn’t.  Not yet.

The ultrasound was actually the most pleasant part of all. No squishing, hardly any pain and warm gel was applied.  Finally, some warmth!  I’ve been freezing at attention ever since I changed out of my clothes!  LOL! 

She said that it would take a few minutes for the radiologist to look these over but she felt there would be nothing to worry about. 

Whew!  A relief.  I wasn’t out of the woods yet but there was definitely a clearing. 

Within a few minutes, that actually felt more like minutes and not years, I was given my paperwork.

Normal/Negative.  No evidence of cancer.

What a relief!  Chances are, I’ll probably have to start going yearly sooner rather than later, but I’ll deal.  No way am I taking this testing for granted.  EVER.  (BTW, my mom’s testing came back normal too!)

One last thing to ponder about this visit.  The technologist who squished me today, had her first child at 41.  Said it was the best thing that ever happened to her.   Didn’t have any problems and she gave me hope.

On to Monday, dr’s follow-up for my surgery and boob scare.  Lots of stuff to discuss, including getting ready for baby!

Mindless post

Nothing much to report really.  Everything is sort of in waiting mode and that is precisely when my mind and I like to duke it out. 

Ahh my brain, my mind.  Warped at times, but always guiding, and sometimes, misguiding me.   It’s the mind that keeps me awake at night, yet keeps me in bed in the morning.  Won’t let me sleep at night, but sleep is all it wants to do when the clock rings. 

Like 9 times a day.  Seriously, I hit snooze on average 5-9 times a morning. 

Every evening, even if I feel tired, it doesn’t matter.  My husband can fall asleep in less than a minute. Not me.  Not always.  I described my mind to him as satellite dish tv with hundreds of channels, and someone is sitting on the remote. 

Click, click, click.  Gotta do this tomorrow.  Don’t forget that.  What am I going to do about this?  It’s exhausting. 

Then morning comes.  I hate mornings.  Why can’t I get up?  Is it because of where I’m heading?  Most of the time it’s work.  What does that tell you?  But sometimes I’m getting up for other things and it’s rough.  My mind doesn’t stop. 

It can also be my worst enemy at times.  Especially when I’m trying something new, waiting for an answer to something, or most often, when I’m standing in front of the mirror attempting to get dressed every morning.  It loves these moments. 

When I’m trying to read my homework assignments, sometimes it won’t cooperate with me.  It’s gotten better though.  Back in the day I’d almost never know what I just read.  Now I only have to go back once in a while and reread something.  Probably because I’m tired from it keeping me up the night before!

My husband usually gets up BEFORE the clock even rings.  You know that little click sound you hear before the actual alarm?  Yeah, that’s how he rolls.  Right out of bed and into the shower.  I don’t know how he does it, but he has this saying “only you can determine the kind of day you will have.”

I’d like to think that I don’t purposely tell myself to “HAVE A CRAPPY DAY!”, replacing this little guy  with a red-faced, grimace-y grump.  Do I really do that to myself?  I guess I must. 

Just once I’d like to win.  I want to beat my mind at its own game.  And I think I’m doing that with my schooling and plans and everything but it will take a while to finish.  And my mind knows this.  It reminds me every time I go to school.  Even though I’m loving it, it’s hard not to be reminded of how many more classes I have, then the job search at the end.  Thanks, mind! 

This week, it will feast like a king.  I have so much on my plate it’s not even funny.  From deadlines at work, to going to my meeting with my wellness coach telling him I haven’t lost any more weight and in fact, I’ve gained.  Oh yeah, the biggie, going for my call-back mammogram on Wednesday, plus school just kicked it up a notch.  I think I read about 30 pages last night (5 of them twice!), and have about 30 more to read tonight.  This is just for tomorrow’s class.  It doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of what is expected of me in my Saturday class this week.   Then finding time for the gym and trying to cook healthy, keep up with the house.  Some people strive on juggling.  I don’t think I’m there yet. 

AGHAHGGHH!   Eat up, brain.  Food for thought this week.  Enjoy!

Double whammy mammy

While I’m still on the topic of breast health, I thought I’d mention that my mom is going thru some stuff.  Nothing bad, but you know, stuff.  Hope she doesn’t kill me for mentioning her. 

She’s gone thru the take-the-mammogram-and-then-get-called-back-for-another-look routine.  All was well before and all will be well again.  That’s what we tell her, and while we truly mean it, we don’t really know how it feels.  We don’t know what is going thru her mind.  Or any woman’s mind who gets a call-back. 

Until it happens to you.

I got the call today.  That was quick, huh?  Just had the mammogram yesterday!  Of course they tell you next to nothing but want you to return for either another mammogram or further testing. 

It was like a bomb dropped and I was the only one left in the office.   I heard no one around me while on my phone.  I felt paralyzed.

“What do you mean I need to come back?” 

I could barely put sentences together. I felt like they were making no sense.  I felt like I was making no sense.  All these thoughts racing thru my mind. 

I thought this baseline mammogram would be a piece of cake.

What if it’s cancer?

It could be just nothing, right?

Maybe they just didn’t get a good enough squish?

And my personal favorite that really bothered me . . .

Great.  Just when I FINALLY get ready to try to get pregnant, I’ll find out I have breast cancer.  My window has slammed shut, close down the factory.

So I know I’m jumping to conclusions here.  I ALWAYS jump to conclusions.  If jumping to conclusions was an event in the olympics, I’d surely win. 

But it’s really hard when they tell you to not go to the first place you went for the mammogram, but now go to the one connected to the hospital.  The one that has a specialized Women’s Breast Clinic in it.  You know, the one in the Cancer Pavilion. 

Yeah, that one. 

I know, I know.  That’s just the best place where you are sent to get really good service, with a radiologist on the spot, giving you your results right then and there.  I get that.  But there’s no way to make that location sound any better to me. 

So this will be the LONGEST WEEK OF MY LIFE.   I can’t get in until next Wednesday morning.  I took the first available time they had. 

My mom’s playing her own waiting game, but so far things are fine.  So when I called her today, it was very comforting.  She said all the same things we’ve said to her, and she meant it, and she understands. 

It’s a double whammy mammy lately, but we’ll both be fine.  I know it.

Got syrup?

I wanted to be more clever but there really is no other way to describe today’s ordeal than with a pancake reference. 

Today’s milestone:  My First Mammogram

Fantastic!

The worry-meter on this one ranks right up there with giving birth.  As soon as a woman announces she is pregnant, all the war stories are unleashed.  Every woman wants to rehash their experience.  Good or bad, but mostly bad. 

When women around me knew I was going for this mammogram today, you better believe they gave their two cents.  Some flat out weren’t going to lie and expressed that it hurt.  Some said it was simply discomfort, but you gotta wonder what their description of “discomfort” is.  And yet others have been putting off going at all.

Bad move.  Bad, bad move. 

So today started off with popping some Motrin, a unanimous tip given to me by most ladies.  My nerves were up there in high gear.  This always happens with something unknown, especially something medically unknown.  I don’t know what scared me more.  The findings or the procedure itself.  Now I know that sounds stupid, but keep in mind, this was my FIRST experience. 

I left the house in what seemed like plenty of time to get there. 

Wrong! 

I hate being late to an appointment.  I know first hand what that does to the medical staff, and to the poor patients who have appointments say 3:30 – on.  I’ve been that patient who ends up waiting 2 hours, watching an entire episode of Law and Order and reading 3 magazines cover to cover!  So to all those that I screwed today, I apologize.   Traffic was horrendous.  Lame excuse but freeway-weather-stupid drivers-traffic apologizes to no one.  So I will.  LOL! 

I actually called them to tell them I was late and not just waltz in expecting to keep my place in line.  Turns out they weren’t too backed up yet.  Maybe others were late?  They appreciated the call and much to my dismay, they took me right in. 

Really, I could have waited?  No, really.  I’m fine with waiting.  Ugh.  Now? Ok.

Got undressed from the waist up and before I could announce how nervous I am, there it was.  That creepy machine with the two plates for the “girls”.  Dimly lit room with just enough light gleaming off of the torture chamber!  Come to think of it, I’ve never really seen one of these in person before.  I was not enthused.  LOL!

Every time I get into a new situation like this, it’s like the person talking to me sounds like the Charlie Brown cartoon adults.  No clue what they are saying, I’m only half paying attention, all while reminding myself to breathe so I don’t pass out from fear. 

As I got into position, I tried to tell myself how important this test is and not to be scared.  And you know what?  It honestly wasn’t that bad.  Except when she noticed my partial tattoo that I’ve been in the process of removing via laser the past couple years.  (Another blog story for another day!)

“Oh what happened to your arm?”

I explained that I got tired of a tattoo, yada, yada.  This would have been a splendid conversation to have without my boob waiting in the vice grip!

Can you go push that button over there, take the xray and release me?  I’ll tell ya all about it then.

Sigh! 

When I told my mom about my experience, she wanted to know if I yelled out “Uncle!” during the tattoo-talk delay.  Haha!  Good one, mom!  I wished I’d thought of that. 

So it’s over.  I conquered it and it really wasn’t all that bad.   As in most cases, the fear of the unknown is FAR worse than the reality.  

If you haven’t gone and need to because you are in that age bracket, or you’ve been putting it off . . . GO!  You must.  This quite possibly one of the most important things a woman can do for herself. 

And this is coming from a newbie!

Ready to rumble!

In this corner . . . eventually weighing in at a decent weight once the stress kills her, but carrying a heavy backpack filled with textbooks . . . wearing some sharp outfit in whatever the hot 2010 color is (turquoise, I hear) . . . the interior design student!

And in this corner . . . weighing about 20 pounds more than she’d like . . . with her sparkly new uterus and ovaries . . . wearing, wearing, uh . . . wearing whatever she can find, and envisioning spit-up on the shoulder . . . the future mommy! 

DING! – DING! – DING!

This will be an interesting year.  I’m finally feeling better after my laparoscopic surgery, I’m back at work where things are CRAZY as usual, and school starts TOMORROW! 

ROUND ONE for sure. 

I’m waffling back and forth a LOT lately.  I’ve taken care of the surgery so I’ve got the clean baby-making slate and I’m finding more and more women who seem to be on the same timeline as me for wanting to get pregnant.  Several of the neighbors have been talking about it.  I was just talking to a coworker yesterday who recently got married and they are thinking later this year to start trying.  They’re all excited for me.  I’d be in good company with all these ladies, wouldn’t I?

Then there’s the excitement and pull of going back to school.  I keep hearing rumors about the department.  Will it hang on for another year or two?  Are the enrollment numbers dipping enough to shut it down?  Do I want to be one of the dropouts who makes that happen?  But, it will still take me at least another full year to complete the program.  As long as what I need to take is being offered when I need it.  Ideally, while not interrupting my work schedule too much.  Sounds like a minor miracle. 

The referee of this match – my CURRENT job.

It sorta has to be.  Again, I start to think.  I work with some really great people.  The benefits are really good.  I just got a raise, despite the economy in the state that it is.  If the “future mommy” became heavyweight-champion of the world, would it be the end of the world? 

I guess it wouldn’t.  Except for maybe that heavyweight part.  LOL!

Sure, I may not always like the job, but apparently, the job likes me so I shouldn’t complain.  I’m not going to give up though, on either dream.  I’d like to think that I could have BOTH. 

Maybe I can? 

Let’s see who dukes it out , or better yet, what the Ref has to say about it. 

Yep, interesting year ahead. . .

Clean slate

Well, I survived.  I did it.

What a mix of nerves and emotions.  First, the fasting.  Ugh.  It started at midnight.  Ok, so that’s fine, I’m usually in bed by then, I can get up, shower and putz around in the morning and still be fine.

Except that I NEED my morning coffee.  Nope.  Not today.  Then I started feeling hungry and then I wanted a huge glass of water.  This is someone who can go most of the day without drinking any water.  Bad, I know.  When you can’t have something, I guess that’s when you really want it. 

But I was good and followed my instructions. 

We got there a little early and it was nice to see they had decent magazines to flip thru.  Nothing worse than finding a couple issues of something like Boater’s World from like 1995.  They had this really cool screen on the wall and for a second I thought I was at the airport checking for my flight.  Patient numbers listed, all color-coded as to what stage in the process they were in.  Pretty cool.  (I later asked my husband if he called out “BINGO!” when my number popped  up. LOL!).  Apparently morphine makes me loopy.

The absolute worst part is when you are pried away from loved ones to be alone on a hospital gurney waiting for your turn.  But the surgery team was fantastic.  Everyone made me feel at ease.  I am NOT a fan of the IV portion of the program but the nurse anesthetist probably said the best thing of all to me. 

“I’m about to give you the ‘I Don’t Care drug’ to relax you on the way to surgery.”

OMG!

As I was being wheeled away, within seconds, I was like WEEEEEEEEEEEEE! and when she asked how I was doing I actually laughed and said, “I don’t care about anything right now!”

This. Is. Great!

Until I woke up.  I swear I thought I witnessed the breathing tube being pulled out, and maybe I did, but I was still so out of it.  Then that weird in and out feeling, I kept wanting to sleep with those nice warm blankets they give you and continue my wacko dreams, but I eventually had to wake up. 

Unfortunately the doctor came by when I was still so groggy.  But I got good news and he also talked to my husband who would later clarify the good news to me. 

The good news?  I am not crazy!  LOL!  I was not imagining things and the endometriosis did indeed return.  The doctor removed any growth he found as well as the cysts on my ovaries.  Apparently one of the cysts had already ruptured. 

Eww.

I guess that could explain the weird twinges I was feeling in the days leading up to my recent and horrible period I just finished.  It was far worse than normal and it couldn’t be any more apparent that I needed this surgery.  Good timing! 

And, I must add, morphine is wonderful!  LOL!  My stint in the recovery room went pretty well.  I didn’t really feel nauseous, the pain was under control, and I was able to walk out of there. 

Later on that evening I was feeling it though.  They inflate your belly with CO2 in order to separate all the organs so the doctor can see around better.  When the surgery is over and the gas is trapped, you feel like there are all these gas bubbles moving around.  Ok, I can handle gas in my abdomen (usually from a poor diet choice), but in my SHOULDER?!  Near my clavicle?!  Really?  My chest hurt a little, too.  I couldn’t get full breaths and I was very uncomfortable last night trying to fall asleep.  I took some pain meds which sorta took the edge off.  The worst part today is my throat.  It is so sore from the breathing tube.  You would have thought the tube was coated in sandpaper or something! 

But after all that, I’m glad I made this decision.  In a day or two, I’ll be back to normal.  I feel pretty good knowing we’ve got that clean slate now.   Not just for baby, but I feel like it’s a clean slate for everything in my life.  I go back to work tomorrow and hopefully can start kicking butt.  I’ll start getting back to the gym and slowly kick my own butt.  School starts back up on Saturday and that will certainly kick my butt. 

It’s weird but it couldn’t have been better timing to have this right at the beginning of the new year.  So maybe I’m a week behind everyone else, and maybe some people have already given up on their resolutions, but I’m feeling recharged.  I am ready to take charge in many areas of my life.  This surgery was a biggie that needed to be taken care of, not just physically, but I’m thinking also mentally.  I feel a huge mental relief. 

Life is good.

Ok, maybe that’s the percocet talking, but really, life is good!

til tomorrow

not myself today.

people noticed.

took heating pad to work.

took 2 hours to drive to work in the snow.

wished heating pad had a car plug-in feature.  lol!

abdomen hurts.

leg hurts.

back hurts.

tylenol doesn’t work for nuthin’.

tomorrow is the big day.

went out to buy things for the hospital and recovery.

bought a couple magazines to read.

hubby bought a book to read while he waits for me.

bought some sweats in a perfectly comfy, one size too big.

pads with wings.  lol!

hubby and i got a bite to eat, a nice distraction.

now i’m sitting here reflecting.

worrying.

i’m not so brave anymore.

how did i do this at 19?

how bad will it hurt?

what will the doctor find?

will we be able to have kids?

will he have to remove anything?

what if he finds nothing?

am i crazy?

no.

stuff’s going on.

i’m not myself.

til tomorrow.

A not-so-gentle reminder

It was a rough night. 

And at around 4 a.m. I was reminded of why I need my surgery on Tuesday.   When I was looking to schedule it, I considered two things.  When the next school semester started so I wouldn’t miss class, and when my period would end.  I thought we did a pretty good job of squeezing it in right between the two.

Except for the fact that I can’t take any type of meds for pain at the moment.  And how could I forget the ever-increasingly painful cramps I’ve been getting each month?  The only thing I’m allowed to take so close to surgery is Tylenol.  That stuff usually doesn’t cut it, but I’d be willing to try it again.  Too bad I was the big dummy who didn’t buy any to have around if I needed it. 

It’s amazing the things you think about in the middle of the night when you are in pain.  I rumaged in the dark to find the heating pad and had a flashback to the time when I needed a heating pad every month.  I was like 12 or 13 and I can still remember having to tell the principal, a crabby nun, at the small Catholic gradeschool I attended that I was “sick”.  It was a Friday morning and the entire school went to mass. 

“Why did you come to school if you’re sick?!”

I was too embarrassed to explain what was wrong with me and wondered why I was the only girl in the class this happens to. 

“Well you’ll have to wait in the lobby for your parents to pick you up.  No one will be here.”

As I laid down, curled on my side with the heating pad last night, I could picture myself in the same position years ago, in my plaid skirt and saddle shoes, on a wooden bench, in the dimly lit school lobby watching all the classrooms file out to church.  I wonder if my younger sister saw me.  This wasn’t exactly the picture I wanted to paint for her when she would start her period. 

My mom was home with my brother who was a toddler so my dad had to pick me up.  More embarrassment.  He didn’t know what to say.  He wasn’t mom.  As the heating pad started warming up I remembered how my mom would sit there with me and the heating pad, rubbing my back while I cried, until I fell asleep. 

I almost wanted to call her this early morning.  But I didn’t. 

I tried not to keep waking my husband, even though I wanted to shout out, “for better, for worse, in sickness and in health, go buy me some damn Tylenol!” 

He mumbled ”just take something” but I was too scared.  At some point during his REM-sleep he felt that one dose of something for pain would not interfere with surgery.  And even though he works in the medical field and I trust him, all I could think about is what if I bleed too much during surgery and they can’t stop it?  Was it worth that Advil or Motrin?

So I waited and pressed the heating pad close.  Turning from side to side made me feel like I was hit by a truck. 

Was it that much worse than this back in the day when I had bad cramps? 

Or am I just a big wimp now? 

This is almost as bad as the tooth pain I had before needing that root canal.

Remember? You wanted to jump out the window? 

Ok, this isn’t (quite) that bad.

Is this how it’s going to be in the last weeks of a pregnancy when I can’t get comfortable? 

How will I handle it? 

What about labor and delivery?

I want to die.

OMG.  The thoughts were maddening.  I don’t know what kept me up more, the thoughts or the pain. 

After I went for my first laparoscopy 16 years ago, my doctor told me it was one of the worst cases of endometriosis he had seen in someone so young.  

Well, I think it’s back.  Except this time I’m not so young.

These cramps are bad again and not just my abdomen but my lower back and down my right leg.  It’s about as bad as it was the first time around.  Endometriosis has returned, I just know it. 

And I’m worried. 

As I sit here with my heating pad, I am counting down the hours until my surgery.  This not-so-gentle reminder is a definite sign that I’m doing the right thing and that I can’t put it off any longer. 

My husband did go out this morning to buy me some extra-strength Tylenol and he made me breakfast and coffee.  I sure needed some coffee. 

He’s a good guy.

The baby’s out of the bag

Let me preface this by saying I’m not pregnant.  At least I don’t expect to be.

And . . .

I have a headache.  Happy New Year!!  LOL!

My husband and I live in a relatively young neighborhood.  With LOTS of kids.  If you don’t have any, you soon will.  I think something’s in the water out here. 

We were invited to a New Year’s Eve party and I was a little intimidated.  I don’t know why, but I get that way before events.  Yeah, I know a lot of people, but not super well and some of the neighbors we know the best, weren’t able to go.  I started getting a headache and I am literally on the borderline-cutoff of when I need to stop taking any medicines because I’m not allowed to 5 days before my surgery.  Who schedules a surgery 5 days into the new year?!  LOL!

Me. 

I started almost wanting to use the excuse of my headache to not go to the party.  But since the headache was sort of sinusy, and I found some Tylenol Sinus, I took it.  Tylenol is the only med I’m allowed up until surgery day.  It seemed to help and so we went to the party.

I am so glad we went.  Let me say that again.

I am so glad we went!

We had a great time.  I met some neighbors that I didn’t know and I got even more acquainted with some of the ones I’ve previously met.   The ones who know us better also seem to know that my husband and I have been talking more about trying to get pregnant this year.  

You would have thought we conceived on the way to the party or something!  Once one person knows, EVERYONE knows!  LOL!  Apparently at a recent football party, my husband must have opened up to some of the guys who have kids because yesterday, one of neighbors relayed to me how excited he seems to want kids.  It was touching actually.  Touching to know how on board he is now. 

By the time midnight rolled around, we all gathered in the basement rec room to toast the new year.  Someone yelled out “make lots of babies” and you would have thought everyone wanted to clink our glasses first.  To that I said to my husband, “drink up, honey!”

It was funny and it was fun. 

I think there’s going to be a lot of babies this year.  Many of the newer moms are already talking about their second, so we’ll be in good company if all goes well for us.  They are all excited for us and we couldn’t have moved to a better neighborhood.

Did I mention I have a headache?  Sigh.

And today, I truly can’t take anything because I am now within 5 days of surgery.

Who schedules a surgery 5 days into the new year?!

A hopeful 2010 mom does.