A Small Announcement...

Well, the time has come to unveil the issue that has been rattling around in my head.

It may come as as shock (or not) but I would like to tell everyone that...

I am PAINFULLY uncomfortable with the idea of Tony Abbott running the country.

Oh - and did I mention that I'm pregnant, too?

I've been a bit cautious this time around as last time ended sadly - but I can confidently say that this time feels a whole lot different. And a whole lot more permanent.

I was going to wait until next Monday when I've had my first ultrasound - but since a certain husband had a few too many corporate drinks in the corporate box at the football on Saturday and was too tipsy excited to keep the news to himself, I've decided it's my turn.

Going by 'standard' dates from my GP, I'm 8 weeks pregnant, but the ultrasound will give a better idea of actual gestation. I'm actually quite stunned that I am pregnant - my cycles have been so unreliable since Miss 3 was born that it's not unusual for a couple of months to pass between periods.

But on a whim and after a few enquiries by the mother-in-law and even Miss 3 herself, I peed on a stick last Tuesday morning and a fabulous, thick, unmistakable second line arrived.

It's an excellent result - I couldn't have asked for a better second line.

I feel like everything has worked out, and this baby has arrived at the right time. I have cut back my working hours, the Obstetrician I wanted is available and it will be a dry season baby. After being heavily pregnant in the wet season, I am thrilled to not be doing that again!

I am tired and getting lots of sleep, I feel like my pants are already getting too tight around my pelvis and I can feel things stretching. I don't have morning sickness so much as 'all the time sickness'. So much so that I was hovering over the toilet bowl at midnight last night.

Yeah - that's been fun.

But overall I'm feeling good, feeling positive and very happy.

All we need to do now is put back the wall we knocked out so we can have the 3rd bedroom back!

Taking it Easy...

Sorry it's been a little slow around these parts - wrapping things up at work before my annual leave took a lot more of my time than I actually thought it would.

Some may say that I might not have had so much to finish off, had I blogged a little less and worked a little more. But I'm at the close of Annual Leave Day 1 - and so I don't actually care right now.

I've spent the day doing nothing, only getting dressed to go to my parents house for dinner and the most I did around the house was turn on the dishwasher. I'm not even sure the dishes in there were actually dirty - but it gave me a sense of pride so I'm not going to worry about the details.

I'm catching up on my recorded episodes of 'One Born Every Minute' and 'Dr Quinn: Medicine Woman'. Yes, I love Dr Quinn, and no I'm not ashamed. I can't hear your snorts of laughter, so it's all good.

But the main message of this is to say I'm going to be taking it easy. Since I lost my iPhone I've had a forced withdrawal from Twitter and blogging and all the other things I used too obsessively check previously, and I think it's been good for me.

So for the next 5 weeks my priority is going to be my family and doing the things together that we want to. And believe me, we have plenty to do.

I have baking to be done - and even if I didn't enjoy baking I'd be forced to, because our chickens have started laying about 6-8 eggs PER DAY. That's a shit load of egg's! I can't give them away fast enough so the only other solution I can think of is to become a the Betty Crocker of Darwin.

And when I'm not baking, I'll be tackling the tropical jungle that is our pain in the arse garden. Goodbye palm trees. Goodbye pointless, unidentifiable shrubbery. Goodbye horrible paving and hello to the garden of my dreams! Hopefully we'll also get the grass mowed and I won't have to take a cut lunch and water bag to get to the letter box.

We'll be restoring the pool to a habitable state, safe for human activity. Because if the pool pump doesn't go in this week with enough chlorine and salt to bleach the earth, I will loose my shit. $700 and endless waiting for the pool man to declare it safe only for the bloody pump to blow up and the new one not fit the existing pipelines has made me very upset. I'm sick of looking out our bedroom window only to see a cesspool. Although it does match the state of the garden. Ahem.

The chickens will be relocating to a penned area in the back yard. Because they've developed a love of roosting on the stairs. And I don't love having to wear my wellies to get down the stairs. Getting to the clothes line has become a daily game of chance - and my chances of not ending up stepping in chicken shit is getting less by the minute so they won't be as free rage as I had originally planned.

But it's not a bad thing - it's getting to the point where they're bigger than the cats. And that's fine, until I have to catch them and then I realise that the bigger they get the sooner they'll eat me in my sleep. The pen is, therefore, for my safety, too.

Otherwise it'll just be filled with shopping and visits to the park and Christmas and New Year and then a certain little girl's 3rd birthday.

I'm still slightly in denial about that. I'm not ready to have a 3 year old. Because that mean's I'll have to turn 28 shortly after. And I'll be honest - any age after 25 just wasn't in my life plan. It would mean our daughter would never be older then 13 months, but I was, and still am, totally okay with that. The older she get's, the more it reminds me of the ever growing age gap between her and the elusive second child we want.

Fertility is a bitch - she's not getting a Christmas card this year. There are lots off bloggy babies due in 2012, and I'd like ours to be one of them. But I'm finding myself getting cranky (again!) that it's not happening and I don't want to be the bitch who can't be happy for other people's wonderful news - so it's a sign that I need to take a step back and chill out.

Who knows, maybe all the things we've got going over the next 2 months will be a good distraction and we might get that 2012 baby after all.

And if not, I have an internal wall that's coming down so I'll be able to vent with a hammer.

I'll be popping in now and then to update as I feel like it, but regular programming might not return until 2012.

So to you and your families I wish all the best for a fabulous Christmas and a safe and happy New Year.

Taking control...

On Tuesday I went to the GP.

Now, to get it out of the way, quick smart - I did a test (in relation to this post) and it came back with nada.

My response was somewhat ambivalent - disappointed but not surprised.

I spent a few days mulling everything over in my mind. I thought about all the check up's I've had and all the things that have happened since the Toddler was born. It became clear to me that something was up. My GP hadn't said anything to me and seemed more focused on trying to diagnose me with diabetes, than anything else.

So I went to my GP clinic, all guns blazing, ready to demand that tests be done and for them to stop dicking around diabetes and start poking around elsewhere!

I was going to start by standing on the exam bed, puffing on a tongue depresser while sipping champagne from a specimen cup and announce "I have a dream - a dream to be a mother for a second time..."

But it did seem overly dramatic. Even though I thought it had merit.

Instead I announced that I wanted to go back on the pill - just to see if it would help my cycles get back on track.

The GP looked over my notes, checked me over, looked me in the eye and said 'has anyone mentioned Poly Cystic Ovarian Sydnrome to you?'

My response was a no, but that I wasn't surprised because I have a strong family history of it. After a chat about my history she said it's likely no one thought of it because I fell pregnant with the Toddler so easily. She said that PCOS might have been there for a long time but, because I was on the pill since I was a teen and only stopped about 8 weeks before I fell pregnant the first time, it didn't have time to develop and cause an issue.

So I've been bled once again - but this time I feel like it's a move in the right direction. Almost makes it worth the several stabs that yielded nothing before they sucked it out of my hand.

I find it funny that when I finally get up the courage to approach my GP with my thoughts, I get someone who not only listened but didn't make me feel like a dick for trying to voice my concerns.  I'm not saying that the other GPs I've seen have been dismissive or uncaring - more that they seemed so focused on trying to find what they wanted to find, the other possibilities were pushed aside.

I work with GPs every day. And when it comes to my work I don't think twice about voicing my opinion and telling them what's what. But my own health? I sit in the consult room and feel like I'm 5 again, and they know my health better than I do.

But they don't. And I forget that so easily. In a way, I think we all do. Yes, our GP is there to help and guide us with our health - but only we know how it feels, how often and where.

If I've learnt nothing else this week, it's that I should never feel silly for taking control of my own health. It's my body, and I have every right to say if I feel something more is going on than what is visible outwardly. It's not about me knowing better than my GP, and it's not about my GP knowing better than me. It's about working together for the best outcome.

Hopefully, for our little family, the best is yet to come.

Recovery

I'm still not quite with the program today. And photo's of the party and other escapades will come later - I'm not organised enough to remember to brush my hair let alone get photo's up on here, today.

The weekend was absolutely brilliant. The rain held off from 2:55pm to 5:05pm which was plenty of time for everyone to have party food, games, cake and a swim in the pristine pool.

Oh the pool - it looked magic, even with the naked garden beds either side. The Guru did an amazing job of making it look like a resort...with naked garden beds. So a nudist resort then. Excellent.

I won't lie - I was mildly terrified of having so many small children in one location, even with their parents in attendance. I had thoughts of toddler tanty's over sharing. And the idea that my newly ordained 2 year old would bring her 30 year old persona to the party and scare everyone away was a concern.

Thankfully she had her temper tantrum over not wanting to wear her party dress precisely 15 minutes before guests started arriving. And the moment I opened my mouth to say 'Claudia is here, baby!' the clouds parted, she ran to the door and started calling out to her friend and waving.

I have never met anyone who can swing so wildly or rapidly from intense anger to pure joy. Except for me when I'm pregnant. I'm just sayin'. I reckon I know where she gets it from.

And from there, as more people arrived and Fun schlepped in from the rain, shook itself off and decided to get it's shit happening, the afternoon passed in a moment.

At this stage our friends arrived with their 2 year old and their amost 8 week old. Needless to say I was smitten with this tiny bundle and I cuddled him for what seemed like an eternity...I asked if I could keep him and, while they let me down gently, they reassured me that it would be our turn soon, and we would have a special bundle all our own again.

Yeah, well - I totally would have stolen their little bundle. But it would have dampened the mood of the party.

There is just something about those tiny fingers and toes...about that little nose and those curious eyes that make me melt and want to storm into Mother Nature's office and demand why the hell she hasn't got her crap together.  Slack bitch*.

Ahem, moving on...

Having an elevated house proved to be the most wonderful thing we could have hoped for. And even more delightful was discovering that the bouncy castle was as high as the house and was snugly set under the house for some bouncy fun, just in case the happy clouds decided to abandon us and their crusty cousin's rolled in.

Cameras flashed, Happy Birthday was sung and candles were blown out - and for the first time she did it all by herself.  Clever little pumpkin.

And then 5pm rolled around and as quickly as it had started, the afternoon wrapped up. Small kidlets were wrapped in warm, fluffy towels and cuddled to the car to head home for a quick dinner and then a good night's sleep.

Our big girl passed out on the floor at 7:15pm exactly, having avoided her afternoon power nap and spending the entire afternoon swimming, running, bouncing, laughing, eating and screaming around on her new quad bike.

Yes, the Guru and I are completely and totally insane - we buy our toddler motorised vehicles.

And by 8:30pm on Saturday night I was passed out in our bed. My nerves were shattered over baking and icing cakes, making sure there was enough food, that no one fell off the bouncy castle/quad bike/slippery dip and that a good time was had by all.

Yeah, I am totally one of those people who doesn't relax at parties - I'm the freak who flits around like a dragonfly on crack trying to make sure I am all things to all people and that even the mosquito's are comfortable.

Whatever.

Everyone slept through the night, and when I got up the next morning the leftover mess didn't bother me.

In fact, I schlepped around in my pj's all day and just had fun with our girl. Our very grown up, clever, funny, 2 year old girl.

*Note: Mother Nature - if this month you decided to let me have my last little bundle, then please ignore my rantings above. You know it's only because I'm dreading the next week or so when I discover if you've given us our gift, or not. You know it's only because every little niggle I feel, I feel sad that it might be a sign that this month was a flop. I don't really think you're a bitch...but I do think you've been slack. Love me. x

Shape Up - Week 7 (with some disturbing girly content)

Pfft - yeah, there's a great gaping hole between week 2 and 7, but whatever.

Well chicklets, I am still hoofing it with the girrrrrlfriend 3 times a week at lunch - and as for physical difference I don't think I've found one yet.

I keep searching for extra space between my blubber and the seams of my clothing, but so far I've failed to notice anything worth reporting.

As for measurements - They're up to date as of 24/11/10!

Bust - 104cm (5cm DOWN from Week 2)

Waist - 97.5cm (3.5cm UP from Week 2...what the...?)

Hips - 116cm (3cm DOWN from Week 2)

Arms - 39.5cm (0.5cm UP from Week 2...dammitt!)

Thighs - 74.5cm (1.5cm DOWN from Week 2)

Overall, a not too shabby effort I think!
 
And guess what's the same from Week 2? That's right! I have PMS again!
 
Oh freakin' joy.
 
I'm telling you, I am going to be bustin' a move in the bedroom as often as it takes to get a BFP in December...so my comment yesterday of presents equaling sex for the Guru may be obsolete.
 
However that doesn't mean wrapping some paper towel and shoving it under the tree will pass as a thoughtful gift.
 
I don't actually know of anywhere that paper towel is regarded as a thoughtful gift.
 
And speaking of paper towel - how is it that having your period and going about your daily business is fine until you want to exercise?
 
Almost as soon as I've put my sneakers on I suddenly feel like I have a surfboard made of paper towel in my knickers that's actually waving in the breeze behind me as I walk.
 
They may be super thin but as soon as you start any activity that requires you to move your legs faster than a stroll, it feels like everything is being shuffled past your bum and out the top of your pants.
 
I look even more stupid than ususal walking down the road trying to check out my pants and any potential waving paper towel, but not look like I'm obviously trying to check out my pants and potential waving paper towel.
 
We're totally going to have to leave this town soon - it's getting embarrassing.

So now what?

So we've been trying for another baby for a while now. Since January. And so far, nothing.

I went to my GP a fortnight ago to have a chat about it, and she sent me off for some blood tests. I got a call with the results today.

"Tests suggest ovulation. Good luck!"

For some reason knowing that I am ovulating, while it's great, doesn't give me any comfort right now.

I know, it's a very, very good result and it means no having to go down the medical intervention road. But at the moment all I can think is 'so if there's an egg there, why is there no baby?'

The Guru and I have been talking about the baby situation recently, trying to work out what we'd do depending on the results.

We both agreed that if there was something happening and it was going to end up being an IVF situation, we'd stick with one bubba and leave it at that.

But it turns out there's no problem. There's no reason why it hasn't happened yet.

We discussed what we'd do if I fell pregnant soon, given that we've just moved to a 3 bedroom home, from a 4 bedroom home. What it would mean in terms of immediate changes that would have to happen regarding room reconfiguration and the study becoming a nursery.

It would mean a lot. A lot of time and a lot of money. More so than a new baby costs - and we all know how exxy that can be! And it's going to be even worse this time around because I have discovered all sorts of amazing things since the Toddler was born and I want to buy EVERYTHING I can get my hands on. Including the new Strider Plus pram - in the newly released white/silver colour. It's not even in the shops yet.

Maybe the Guru is putting birth control pills in my coffee for fear of the shopping spree that will ensue upon the news of a new addition to the family. Maybe he fears bankruptcy and homeless-ness?

Well he shouldn't be worried. He should know that we couldn't live in an elevated, 3 bedroom cardboard box. It's too wet here, our box would disintegrate in the first wet season downpour.

Or maybe that's not the point? Whatever.

There was talk of deferring another baby until after we've done our 5 year plan/renovations. But that's too long to wait. We don't want that kind of age gap...and I don't know that I would want to start all over again after being out of baby-land for so long.

So to give myself some form of comfort I am trying to accept that maybe the time's just not right. That fate has decided there will be another baby, but just not right this second. That it needs to wait until we've completed some reno's to make life easier when the time comes.
 
But fate, your logic sucks and your timing is rubbish. So get a move on - I'm in a hurry! But I always am...

Yesterday...

So I'm sitting in my office at the moment with a sick toddler asleep in my lap. Waiting for her sick Daddy to come and fetch her, because she has a high temp and day care called me to come and pick her up.

Today was day 1 of official Toddler Room day care. Not Nursery Room, not baby...Toddler.

I sat in the car and cried for 10 minutes after I dropped her off. And then once I was calm enough to drive, I made it to work and then proceeded to call the Guru and cry down the phone to him. For another 10 minutes.

I then finished that and decided that while I was feeling miserable I should call and make an appointment with my GP to have my pap smear done. Why wait for another day to make that call and have something else as equally unpleasant as having your only child grow up, to look forward to.

I know - I had a sook about this a while ago. But I'm sooking again. Why? Because it's my blog and you can just sit there and read it dammitt, I have to sook about it because now I've stopped myself from shopping the pain away and I know that all of you out there don't mind if I have a 'moment'.

And now the moment is over. Because I had to go and get her - and toddler or not, when she saw me in the doorway at day care she ran to me and snuffled into my neck and said 'Mummy, warm, earring hurt'. Of course she means 'Mummy, I feel hot and yukky and my ear hurts', but I'm her Mummy and I know exactly what she means. As did everyone at day care - hence why they called me.

And so we sat for a moment, cuddled together while everyone else around us got ready for nap time. Then we headed off to the GP, got checked out, got a sick certificate and headed back here to wait for the Guru.

And that brings me here. Sitting, typing, staring at my cold cup of coffee and wondering what I'll be going home to. Hopefully just 2 sleeping bodies in a king size bed. And maybe they'll keep sleeping and I could have dinner...on my own...eating at my own pace...calmly...and not needing to have 2 heartburn tablets afterwards because I've inhaled my food rather than chew it.

It's a possibility - no matter how slim.

But the entire toddler thing has got me to thinking. I know, a dangerous thing to be doing when you're me. Regardless, the old brain is ticking over...and for once the wheel's turning, but the Hamster's not dead - it's pounding the pavement (wheel) and working hard to get things moving.

So my thought is: while I'm having my pap (well, once that's over actually, I don't think I'll worry about having a conversation while someone is digging around 'down there') I'll be having a chat to my GP about this whole 'giving it a damn good go and still no baby' issue. Because I think it's time. 9 months is a long time. For us.

And I long for our last bub...the final link in our family chain.

Dear Aunt Flo...

Dear Aunt Flo,

It's been a while since we've had a chat but I thought it was time I sat down and caught up with you.

Your arrival this afternoon was slightly unexpected and more than a little annoying. For some reason you felt it was okay to be extremely late and not call to check with me, and then you rock up on our doorstep without warning!

So I have been thinking about some ground rules that I think we can both stick to:

1. Be on time! I can't stress this enough. Be here when you're meant to, or vacate the premises and don't come back for 9 months. You have a choice.

2. Give me the heads up. Seriously, is it too much to ask for a telling twinge in the morning, BEFORE I got to work!? You're damn lucky I don't have to work back today.

3. Don't arrive when I already have enough to deal with. Because having the flu, having a toddler with the flu, packing up a house, trying to finalise settlement on a house and working full time is enough. You haven't arrived at the best time, and in actual fact, today is turning out to be an epically crappy day - and if I could turf you out on the street I would.

Overall I think it's quite clear what I need from you. And basically that is consistency and consideration. I don't think it's asking a lot for you to be reliable. You used to be, before the Toddler was born I knew down to the minute when you were going to visit. What happened!? Did Outlook crash and you've tried to make do with a diary? Because it's not working. Get the IT geek in to overhaul the system and get Outlook back online because you are driving me INSANE!!

So otherwise, how are things going with you? Did I mention I'm planning a visit from your cousin, Ovulation? I'm trying to tee something up for this month and hopefully if she visit's then you can take me off your list for a while. That should open up your schedule for everyone else you've been stuffing up with, lately.

Aunt Flo - I think you might need to take a break. So tell Ovulation and Pregnancy to get their party clothes out and come on 'round to my place - I've got cocktails and good music and they're welcome to stay as long as they like.

Take care
Cricket

Day of Awesome-ness!!

So today was proof that when a good day arrives, it arrives with it's possie in tow...

Okay, so I was late to work which was a bit of a bummer, but I didn't mind. In fact I hardly gave it a thought! And arriving at work I had to head into a staff meeting. Thankfully I'd brewed coffee at home and had it ready to go. I'm sorry, I can't have a meeting before 10am without copious amounts of coffee. Not if you want a reply that makes sense. Otherwise I'm quite happy to provide you with a load of nonsense about fluffy bunnies when you ask me about the budget ratio of training from 2009 to 2010.

On the bright side the meeting lasted 30 minutes. It was a record I may not live to see again. A bit like Hayley's Comet...and I do believe a small piece of hell froze over this morning as our CEO wrapped it up. Halleleuja.

I powered through work and finally decided to have my lunch break just after 2pm...wandered down to the local cafe and ordered. It was amazing but I scored the last croissant and the last banana caramel muffin. And if you had tried one of these muffins you would know why I would mug an old lady just to get one. Maybe. If she hasn't taken a bite out of it first.

So, ordered, paid and waiting for my toasted croissant to come out. And waiting. And waiting a little bit more. And then some more. And finally a small voice calls over the tables and mentioned something about flaming croissants and would I be interested in a toasted sandwich instead? Hey, why not. As long as it has ham and cheese I'm good to go.

The sandwich arrives, it smells lovely and I happily take it from the waiter. Who then hands me the cost of my croissant back. They refunded me because I had to wait. NICE!! Score $6.50 for me!!

Wandering back to work now with my sandwich, muffin and drink. Delivery person is dropping off some mags to a business. And gives me a free copy!! Woohoo!

Continuing on my way, work for the rest of the day is breezy and then it's hometime.

Earlier in the day I made the decision to temp to see if it helps with our TTC journey. And I managed to find a chemist in Darwin that has the thermometer I'm looking for. Head there after work and grab one so I can start temping in the morning. YEAH! Score one for TTC!!

I managed to contact the Salvo's about the couch we'd like to give them, which was our good deed for the week. It's nice to have one of those every now and then - even if earlier in the week you had no intention of doing anything that would mean you had a couch to give away...until you walked into Le Cornu and decided to pre-spend some of your tax refund!But moving on from that impulse buy...

The inspection of the house we currently rent went very well this morning and hopefully it will be rented out not long after we leave which means it will be easier on our friends. But it also means we can move up settlement on our new home and as a result will be moving in 2 weeks. Which is awesome, if not completely scary with how much packing we have to do between now and then! But completely worth the inevitable packing meltdown (I'm scheduling mine for the day before we move - so nobody call on Sunday 15 August because I'll be crying into boxes).

All in all it's been a fab day - had Chinese for dinner courtesy of the in-laws (YUM!) and am now contentedly thinking of finshing this up and heading for bed.

I sincerely hope my good mood and good luck continue for a while - at least until we've finished moving house! After that, anything goes - and if it's bad, it goes out the door...

I'll have mine sunny side up...

So we're on the baby bandwagon again...trying to stay cool, yet hopeful.

Can I just say, where the HELL is my positive test!? We've been trying to do something about a sibling for the Toddler since April - and I know, it hasn't been 6 months - but I'm just getting annoyed now.

Sure, fate most likely has everything in hand, and it will all happen when it's meant to. But I'd like someone from the fate department come and explain to me why their schedule isn't the same as mine? I ordered my big fat positive (BFP) months ago! Not even Australia Post is this slow, and that's saying something!

The Guru says that stressing over it won't change anything, in fact it will make it worse. And I know he's right. And I know he's right when he tells me that throwing my ovulation prediction device across the room in frustration won't change the result. Well, it might not make me ovulate, but it sure as hell makes me feel better.

And on another train of thought entirely, can someone explain to me why it is that when you WANT a baby and do everything you can to get one, you get nothing? And yet you know damn well that if you were doing everything to avoid the situation you'd fall pregnant first go. It's infuriating! And I have to say, it makes all the sex education classes at school look like a joke. And makes all the difficult discussions with my Mum seem like a waste of awkward-ness. I feel like storming up to my sex ed teacher and telling her that she's full of lies - you don't fall pregnant 'after just one time' and I have a bin full of negative tests to prove it.

All we're looking for is one more - just one. Trust me, 2 is my limit and some days I think one is too much! But I'm sending a plea to the family gods to just grant me one more child.

It's not too much to ask...is it?