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Ass Baby, a Cautionary Tale

1 Mar

It’s been a long time again. I did end up having a D&C last month after bleeding over 70 days. It went fine.

This morning I had my ass cut open. Let me back up …

Last night, I was in horrible, awful pain. I couldn’t sleep all night. It hurt to sit, stand, or lay down thanks to a hemorrhoid protruding from my butt. This was no normal, run of the mill hemorrhoid, though. This was in a whole other realm of broken butt-ness that I never knew existed.

At 2 a.m., I was in the kitchen attempting to ice my butthole. I laid on my side and my stomach on the sofa hoping for relief that wasn’t coming. I texted my bff who’s a nurse at 3 in the morning. She answered around 5 and told me to see my doctor or go to the ER and that this didn’t sound in the realm of normal.

I waited for my PCP’s office to open at 8:30. By now, I’d figured out that I likely had a thrombosed hemorrhoid. I called and said (no joke): “It feels like I’m giving a slow and painful birth to an ass baby.” My colorful language worked and they booked me immediately.

When I got there, I was taken to a run that looked like where they perform minor surgeries and not a normal exam room, so I knew they were going to cut me.

The doc took one look in there and confirmed what I was thinking. It was a thrombosed hemorrhoid and it needed to be drained. He and a nurse spread my cheeks and numbed the area, which was excruciating. Nobody should ever be coming at you with needles in your asshole. It’s the worst.

Then he cut me. Instant relief … for a few hours, at least. He packed new full of gauze and sent me on my way and told new not to lift anything and to take sitz baths. Oh, and he showed me the clot, which was the size of a cherry. *vomit*

Once I got home, the numbness wore off. My husband attempted to help me change out the gauze and I got blood everywhere. He had to shampoo the carpet, wash sheets and mop the bathroom floor. It was awful. Oh, and my ass started to feel like 20 bees were stinging in my asshole. So bad.

I’m terrified of the poop that will inevitably come. Terrified.

Needless to say, today was traumatizing and my butt hurts. I really don’t know what happened that landed me here, but I hope it never happens again. 


Tales from Unexplained Uterus-Land

3 Jan

I’m so bad about posting in here. It’s probably because I’m tired. Really, really tired. See, I’m 9 months postpartum. That wouldn’t really matter much, and I’m going to go full-blown TMI here, but I’ve had my period for FORTY-FIVE DAYS STRAIGHT.

Yes, 45 days. No break. All the bleeding. All the fun. I’m single-handedly responsible for keeping the feminine product industry alive. Also, I broke down and tried those free-bleed Thinx underwear because I was losing my mind with the tampons and the pads and the will-this-ever-end?!?! feelings. The answer? Nope, never gonna end. Aunt Flo is here to stay.

I called my doctor around day 20-something. He did an ultrasound with dildo-cam (my favorite, haven’t had one since I was pregnant and I had so many of those when I was at the fertility center) and had me take a blood test.

Guess what, you guys. Both came back normal. My uterus, while misbehaving currently, is apparently normal. No fibroids, no polyps, not even any cysts, which I am known for producing at expert-level since I have PCOS. My blood work also came back normal. According to my doctor, my bleeding is “unexplained.”

Um, what?

So, he sent me on my merry ho-ho-ho way, all “unexplained” and everything with a prescription for progesterone that he told me to go ahead and start taking to make my period stop.

Christmas came and I was like:

Blackboard with the text: All I Want For Christmas in a conceptu

Santa didn’t deliver. That rat bastard.

Then New Year’s came and I was like:

Hand writing Resolution for 2017 with marker, concept background

2017 didn’t do me a solid and end this madness, either. Thanks for nothing.


I took the progesterone. I took all of it (as prescribed, of course). While it decreased the intensity of Aunt Flo, it didn’t make her go back into hiding. That brings us to today, day 45 of this blood-filled journey.

I left my doctor a message today to let him know the progesterone didn’t work, but only after my husband bugged me to call their office (I must be a real peach being on the rag this long). His office called me back later to tell me I have two options —

  1. Try a prescription that’s basically birth control to see if that kicks my lady parts back into gear.
  2. Get in a D&C (outpatient surgery) to try to “reset my uterus.”

They even said I could schedule the D&C now if I wanted. Um, how many times can a person go under the knife? I mean, really? I HAVE HAD SO MANY SURGERIES. Why haven’t we tested my hormones or my thyroid to make sure it’s not one of those? Why am I the one asking this stuff? Why are doctors so quick to recommend surgery before getting to the root of the problem? I DO NOT UNDERSTAND. Do I need to go find myself a good endocrinologist now?

Also, I have feelings about going back on the pill. I’ve been off of it since 2012-ish. I don’t really want to go back on it. I would like to have another kid, but I don’t know if it’s in the cards for me given my infertility woes and lovely PCOS. I don’t know if I’m willing to go through everything I went through before again. It was really stressful and I felt really alone when I was going through it. I’d rather it happen naturally if it’s meant to be, which probably means nothing would happen. I guess I’m okay with that, too. I have a healthy, happy, entertaining little boy already, which is more than I could ever ask for.

Anyway, this is mostly a vent. I’m tired. I’m cranky. I’m in pain. I’m bleeding.

I’d really like for this to stop already.



Where Have All The Moms Gone?

22 Dec

Who am I kidding? You’re busy with your kids, not sleeping, working, and generally being superwomen, duh!

So yeah, I’ve been absent myself. It’s easy to get wrapped up in the day-to-day work and kid routine. I’m having a hard time wrapping my mind around having a now 9-month old. NINE MONTHS! Already!

My (not so) little guy is growing and changing so fast. I want to slow down time. He’s starting to crawl. His personality is emerging more and more. He makes me laugh and smile each day. I love watching him learn and figure things out.

Anyhow, even though I haven’t read any mom blogs in awhile, I hope you all are doing great and gearing up for your first Christmas with your little(s). We’re pretty excited to experience the magic of Christmas through a child’s eyes around here, too. Merry Christmas!

4 Months

27 Jul

It’s been awhile since I’ve written. I can’t believe my little guy is four months old now. He is such a happy kid. I really didn’t expect to have a child this happy most of the time. He’s just so dang cute!

My favorite part of the day is walking into his room in the morning when he’s babbling away in his crib. Once he sees me, the biggest smile comes across his face. It’s pretty much the best feeling in the whole world. My husband and I both love “stealing” the first smile of the day. 

We’ve started taking him to baby time at our local library. They sing songs and read and play. He loves it and has really been getting into it the last few weeks. He discovered toys last week. It’s so fun to see him learning and figuring things out. We started sitting him in his high chair when we eat dinner. He’s so interested in watching us eat.

There have been a few setbacks. I think he’s going through the so-called four month regression as far as sleep. It’s been really hard to get him to go and stay asleep at night. He also likes to wake up at 5 a.m. on the dot. It’s hard to work all day and feel this exhausted. Hopefully he goes back to sleeping like a champ again soon.

The Mom Groove and the New Normal

16 May

So, I’ve been a mom for almost two months now … and this is my last week of maternity leave before I go back to work next Monday. I celebrated my first Mother’s Day as a mother and with my own mom, which was awesome. After the last year of health scares with parents, I am so grateful and thankful to be able to spend time with my mom and my little one. She and my dad are so cute with him.

We also survived our first road trip with a kid. We drove from Michigan to Virginia to see my mother-in-law and sister-in-laws with the baby when he was 5 weeks old. It was sanctioned by our pediatrician, who said we were good to go when he clocked in at almost 14 pounds at his 5 week check-up. I was terrified of the trip, overpacked a TON, but it ended up being really okay. Baby Nick was a champ in the car and only got fussy about 30 minutes from our arrival. We had a lot of firsts on the trip — the first time we took him to a restaurant, the first time we let someone babysit, the first time we used the Pack & Play, the first time we stayed in a hotel with an infant, the first time I pumped in a car, the first major poo blowout (followed by many more) requiring outfit changes, the first time meeting Grammy and all his Aunties, and many more I’m probably forgetting.

I’ve learned it takes a ton of time to get ready and out out the door now. We basically have to plan for at least an hour or two longer than it took us pre-kid. It requires a lot of logistics – Do we have enough diapers in the diaper bag? Are there enough wipes? Did we bring the Gripe Water? Do we have his pacifier? Did we pack a blanket? Did we include at least two outfit changes? Do we have a bottle? Did we bring the pump? Do we have any formula? Do we have burp cloths? Many times, this kid looks more put together than I do because by the time I have all his needs met, there isn’t any time for me to get ready … or I just don’t care what I look like anymore.

So, about breastfeeding. Oh, breastfeeding. I could probably write an entire entry just on this topic. There is a shitload of pressure on new moms to breastfeed the shit out of their children. It’s everywhere. I have consultants calling me several times a week asking how I am doing with it … and you know what? Pardon my language, but I am SICK TO FUCK OF TALKING ABOUT MY BOOBS (which, ironically, I am posting about right now, but you get what I mean).

It all started back in those pregnancy and breastfeeding classes we took. I thought, yeah, I can do this! And I started off on this journey of thinking I was breastfeeding no matter what. It went so far that I had that stupid dream a week or so before I went into labor. In it, I birthed the little guy (naturally, btw, HAHAHAHA), and they put him on me and he immediately latched on and I celebrated being the BREASTFEEDING CHAMPION OF THE WORLD!

So, let’s fast forward to the actual birth….the emergency c-section that I could still FEEL (the joy of being a redhead and having epidurals and a spinal NOT WORK). They pulled the little guy out of me, he got assessed and weighed, and then they handed him to my husband…and then I got to see him … but we didn’t get to hang until we were in recovery. BUT, and I swear to you this is the truth, when they put him on me, he did latch on immediately and start feeding and I did lay there thinking OMG, I am a prophet and my dream was true!

Sadly, that’s about where the sunshine and puppies of initial breastfeeding ended. After that, we had some major latching issues, lots of discussions about whether they thought they should clip his tongue (it’s heart-shaped and they thought he might be tongue-tied), meeting after meeting with lactation consultants in the hospital, and many tears, because holy moly, that kid was hurting my boobs! There was blood, there were blisters, and cracking, and hurting, and discomfort. Breastfeeding is hard. It’s even harder when you feel like you’re not giving your kid everything he needs.

So yeah, because little (big) guy was losing weight, we had to start supplementing my breast milk with formula while we were in the hospital. And it’s something we’ve had to continue to this day because I just can’t produce enough milk for this huge baby and his voracious appetite. In fact, I started to feel like I was going insane once we got home and he’d feed on my boobs for 2-3 hours at a time. I felt like I was a milk slave. I couldn’t do anything or go anywhere – my whole existence was wrapped up in feeding my kid … constantly.

I lasted about 3 weeks like that. Then, rather than be this sad, sorry shell of a zombie person who cried constantly, I decided to start pumping more and not letting him on my boobs. I found I was a much happier person doing this. I do still occasionally let him on my boobs, but now it’s when I want to and when he’s happy, so we’re both cool with it and not frustrated or in pain. And yeah, we still supplement. Basically, I feed him breast milk all day long and at night we give him formula. And we usually do formula if we’re out and about because I’m just not one of those moms who’s comfortable whipping her tatas out in public … though I am an expert at in-car pumping.

As I said earlier, this is my last week of maternity leave. I feel like it flew by so fast. We had this whole childcare situation that really threw me for a loop … basically, the person who was going to watch our kid when I went back to work bailed on us when I was 8 months pregnant (cue crying). My husband and I talked about it and weighed our options and costs and decided we could afford for him to take off work for a year to be a stay at home daddy. I’d be lying if I wasn’t really jealous about it, but I’m the primary breadwinner in our family, so we can’t afford for me to be a stay at home mommy and for him to be the sole provider. I have irrational fears that now he’s going to love my husband more than me and I’m going to miss out on all kinds of important baby milestones and moments. It makes me sad and I know it’s stupid, especially since I work from home when I’m not traveling and can easily be summoned if something cool is going down in kid land.

Oh, I also had my 6-week postpartum check-up last week (at 7 weeks). Why didn’t anyone warn me that the postpartum pap smear hurts?! My God, it was painful! I made it through 28 hours of labor with crazy contractions, an emergency c-section, recovering from said c-section, and then a pap smear hurts?! What the hell? My doctor said it’s because my estrogen levels are low because I breastfeed. It has me a little worried about how sex is going to feel … not that I’m wanting any of that lately. I’m way bummed about pregnancy weight and how much things have shifted around after having a kid. I’m squishy now. I need to get motivated to lose it now that I’m cleared to do more physical activity.

Well, this turned into more of a lengthy missive than I intended and the little guy is ready for another feed. Until next time!





Happy Birthday, Not-So Little Man

24 Mar

I’m taking a break from total exhaustion to let you guys know that my baby boy arrived! 

My water broke at Buffalo Wild Wings on Sunday, his actual due date! My midwife told us to head in that night since I’m strep b positive and have to be on IV antibiotics.

This is about the point where my whole birth plan went out the window.

1. My waters partially broke on Sunday. The whole bag didn’t rupture and it was near baby’s head and cord, so we spent the next 24 hours trying to make something happen naturally and avoid prolapse of the cord. 

2. I got to 5 centimeters and my doc came in to examine me, the remaining waters ruptured everywhere. I started getting worried. Baby’s heart rate plummeted. We got whisked away to the OR for an emergency c-section.

3. I was a shaking, crying mess and so worried about out little one. I could feel on my left side despite getting an epidural earlier (sidenote: nothing on my birth plan went as planned, it was time to be flexible), so they gave me a spinal. 

4. I felt like I couldn’t breathe until I heard our baby scream out.

5. I had an 11 pound 7 ounce, 23 inch baby in me. I repeat, 11 pounds. 7 ounces. 23 inches. Holy shit, y’all. No wonder I felt terrible throughout pregnancy!

6. We’re all exhausted but doing great so far. Breastfeeding a giant baby is hard. 

39 Weeks

17 Mar

Well, I’m still pregnant. I’m really ready to have this kid. It’s getting harder and harder to sleep, get comfortable, move, eat, and generally exist. I guess he’s not ready to make his debut just yet, though.

Next week, I start non-stress tests and stress tests to make sure he’s still doing okay since I’ll be past my due date at that point. My OB imparted this lovely wisdom on me yesterday. He said, “Usually when women say they’re done with being pregnant and ready to deliver, they have about a month left to go. When they’re completely miserable, it’s usually another week.”

Fantastic. Lump me into that completely miserable category.

I am very excited to meet the little one. When I do sleep, I’ve had crazy vivid dreams. I had one where I delivered and they put him on me and he immediately latched on and started feeding. I was rejoicing and telling everyone I was the BREASTFEEDING CHAMPION OF THE WORLD! It was so real that I woke up thinking I was in the hospital and had just nodded off. Nope. Just a dream.

I took a scary tumble toward the end of last week. Our cat bolted out of the house when I opened the front door and I was chasing after her and fell on our porch. I caught my hand on the siding by our front window and sliced my hand open. Thankfully, I did not fall on my stomach. I fell on my knees, so they took the brunt of the tumble. It did not feel good and I am still not trusting that shady little kitty. What a punk!




mummy * wife * wannabe runner * aspiring slimmer * crafty queen * social media junkie * in love with life

Stella Nash

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