XsMom21
Well-known member
Well, I'm at a loss of where to vent my frustrations. Since all of you have welcomed me so warmly, I need a get some things off of my chest.
This has been the hardest three years of my life. It seems that something always happens, almost like a piece of coal running down a mountain of snow, picking up speed, collecting more baggage for the final impact on the bottom of the hill.
Here goes.
2004: Pregnant with my son. Diagnosed with hyperemisis which is pretty much 24 hour morning sickness. Stuck in bed, not able to work. I lost 25 pounds in four months. During this time, our roomate (my husband's brother, and my best friend) decides he cannot handle the financial burden, and moves out leaving us with the mortgage to my mother's house. My mother has to move back home, beacuse I cannot work. I lived on Gatorade and Chicken Noodle broth.... threw up anything else that touched my lips.
June 2004: Baby shower! I'm finally feeling a bit better and plan my shower. My soon to be mother-in-law (roy's step-mom) sends her gifts, and a message that she can't bring herself to come. Big family feud.
August 4th 2004: I'm nine months pregnant and it's my 21st birthday, and the hottest day of the year. I'm home alone, trying to sleep, and the power goes out. No AC, and it's over 100 outside. The power finally comes back on around 6pm, and we all eat shrimp and watch the movie I get for my birthday. Power goes out again 3/4 of the way through the movie, and I spend the rest of the night trying not to have a stroke. lol
August 17th 2004: My son is born. They have to induce my labor three weeks early because the nurses at the hospital misdiagnosed my "leakage" for urine, when it was actually amniotic fluid. The combination of the epidural and the pitocin caused my son's heart rate to drop and my blood pressure to drop as well. We were both on the edge, and a surgical team waited outside the door while I was oblivious. Then, my son was stuck. I was too small and the cord was around his neck. We were one push away from a C-Section. 40 stitches later, my son was fine, and I was fine. A great day all around, but I didn't find out til later that the doctors were worried that one or both of us wouldn't make it.
October 2004: My son has to have surgery for pyloric stenosis. Four days alone in the hospital because my husband has to work (wasn't my husband at the time, because we couldnt' get married because I'd lose my Health Insurance). Xander recovers like a trooper. I honestly don't remember much about those days. My mom says I purposefully blocked them.
December 2004: Surgery. I have some sort of infecion called hydradenitis. Only possible treatment is surgery since my body didn't respond to antibiotics. They cut out the skin in my bikini area (about 2inches wide by about 7 inches long) on both sides. I'm stitched up and sent home. The surgery didn't work, and now I have serious scars on both sides of my bikini line, and still suffering from the infection.
A year of working full-time, coming home, husband going to work, taking care of my son and trying to keep my grades up as I'm still in college full-time. During this time, I am diagnosed with post-partum depression and thyroid disease. Gain 50 lbs in about 3 months, and have blood tests, and prescribed two drugs I have to take everyday.
December 2005: Hurt my back at work because some grocery manager insists I bag groceries even though I already felt a strain in my back. End up in the ER that night with spasms. A few weeks later, me and my family finally move out of my mom's into an apartment.
Quit that job, go to work as a waitress, and hurt myself even more. End up in the ER two more times before referred to Physical Therapy. 6 weeks of physical therapy, 3 times a week. Take my son with me and he totally swoons the entire staff. lol
Physical therapy doesn't work so they send me to an orthopedist. This was about 6 months ago. He orders cortisone injections in my SI joints (where the hips meet the spine). Have one injection in one hip, wait six weeks, then another. Neither work.
Still can't get married because of health insurance, and Xander has to have another surgery. This time for an undescended testicle. He was such a trooper. Walked out of the recovery room, and it didn't even budge him.
I get a new job, since I've been unable to work with all the back pain. I think I'm doing a good job, even have Xander enrolled in PreSchool. They fire me after ten days for "too much initiative". WTF. We're out a deposit of about 200 bucks for the school, and the cost, which was about 400 for those two weeks. I'm so heartbroken and depressed by this, you have no idea. I really was doing a good job there, and had such high hopes. Find out later I was fired because I knew too much about computers and they didn't think I was a right fit as an Admin Assistant because I was studying computers at school WTF. Not to mention, I was about 30 years younger than anyone in the office.
More injections. Epidurals this time. Still didn't take, but a lot more painful. Back is getting worse, taking lots of vicodin just to clean the apartment. Can't manage the walk down the stairs of our building so I stay home.
Nov. 2006 - Say FUCK IT and get married. Yay! Roy's (my husband) father tries to talk him out of it two days beforehand, saying he'll regret it.
January 2007: Here we are. This is the worst of it I think:
First, Roy's father (who is also his boss) tells him that he can't afford to give him the raise he promised him 4 months ago, because of a lack of funds (he is saving money for when the minimum wage increase goes into effect). We're about 15 grand in debt, trying to survive while I can't work. Credit cards are a bitch.
Two more injections, this time CAUDALS. Three times the amount of steroids, two weeks apart. The needle goes in through under the tail bone up to my spine. Pain reminds me of the contractions I had before my epidural. Can't think of any other pain as bad as that.
Yesterday: Call my apartment manager to tell her about our plans to renew our lease. She tells me that because the lady downstairs has placed so many noise complaints against us (only one of which we recieved in writing), we have to leave this apartment and move to a downstairs if we want to stay here. This will mean packing all our shit, getting into a new apartment, and paying the pet deposit again, which has doubled since we moved in, to $500. (FOR A CAT!) Then she tells me that it may not even be all of our fault. It may be a faulty floor, but they can't check it until we evacuate the apartment... at all cost to us, of course. I can't even lift my son, and they expect us to pack all our shit to move one building over!
So..... Yea. I've had a pretty frustrating three years. Always seems like something. As of this moment, I have about 28 days to find a new place to live and get there.... my injections still haven't taken, even though I'm suffering the symptoms of steroid abuse lol, I still can't lose the weight I gained because of the thyroid because of the back pain, and they tell me the back pain may not get better til I lose the weight, but I'm not supposed to exercise because it may aggravate my condition AHHHHH.
I am lucky though. I have the most wonderful husband and the coolest, smartest little boy. (at two and a half, he can count to twenty, knows his ABC's, plays the drums and acordian, and so many other things that just blow my mind everyday)
I'm just a little down right now. Ever since me and my husband got together, we've had to battle the naysayers and the jealousy that comes along with a happy relationship. Then, all of my physical ailments, and the surgeries with my son, the pitfalls of life are getting to me.
I guess what made it worse for me was last December was the 15th year anniversary of my brother's death. He was 20, and I'm now 23... I don't really know how to say it, but I guess I feel guilty because of just being alive... having a family... all the things he didn't get to do.... and of course, now that I have a son of my own.... I don't know, it was just really hard this year.
So that's my story... more like a book, though. Thanks for letting me vent
This has been the hardest three years of my life. It seems that something always happens, almost like a piece of coal running down a mountain of snow, picking up speed, collecting more baggage for the final impact on the bottom of the hill.
Here goes.
2004: Pregnant with my son. Diagnosed with hyperemisis which is pretty much 24 hour morning sickness. Stuck in bed, not able to work. I lost 25 pounds in four months. During this time, our roomate (my husband's brother, and my best friend) decides he cannot handle the financial burden, and moves out leaving us with the mortgage to my mother's house. My mother has to move back home, beacuse I cannot work. I lived on Gatorade and Chicken Noodle broth.... threw up anything else that touched my lips.
June 2004: Baby shower! I'm finally feeling a bit better and plan my shower. My soon to be mother-in-law (roy's step-mom) sends her gifts, and a message that she can't bring herself to come. Big family feud.
August 4th 2004: I'm nine months pregnant and it's my 21st birthday, and the hottest day of the year. I'm home alone, trying to sleep, and the power goes out. No AC, and it's over 100 outside. The power finally comes back on around 6pm, and we all eat shrimp and watch the movie I get for my birthday. Power goes out again 3/4 of the way through the movie, and I spend the rest of the night trying not to have a stroke. lol
August 17th 2004: My son is born. They have to induce my labor three weeks early because the nurses at the hospital misdiagnosed my "leakage" for urine, when it was actually amniotic fluid. The combination of the epidural and the pitocin caused my son's heart rate to drop and my blood pressure to drop as well. We were both on the edge, and a surgical team waited outside the door while I was oblivious. Then, my son was stuck. I was too small and the cord was around his neck. We were one push away from a C-Section. 40 stitches later, my son was fine, and I was fine. A great day all around, but I didn't find out til later that the doctors were worried that one or both of us wouldn't make it.
October 2004: My son has to have surgery for pyloric stenosis. Four days alone in the hospital because my husband has to work (wasn't my husband at the time, because we couldnt' get married because I'd lose my Health Insurance). Xander recovers like a trooper. I honestly don't remember much about those days. My mom says I purposefully blocked them.
December 2004: Surgery. I have some sort of infecion called hydradenitis. Only possible treatment is surgery since my body didn't respond to antibiotics. They cut out the skin in my bikini area (about 2inches wide by about 7 inches long) on both sides. I'm stitched up and sent home. The surgery didn't work, and now I have serious scars on both sides of my bikini line, and still suffering from the infection.
A year of working full-time, coming home, husband going to work, taking care of my son and trying to keep my grades up as I'm still in college full-time. During this time, I am diagnosed with post-partum depression and thyroid disease. Gain 50 lbs in about 3 months, and have blood tests, and prescribed two drugs I have to take everyday.
December 2005: Hurt my back at work because some grocery manager insists I bag groceries even though I already felt a strain in my back. End up in the ER that night with spasms. A few weeks later, me and my family finally move out of my mom's into an apartment.
Quit that job, go to work as a waitress, and hurt myself even more. End up in the ER two more times before referred to Physical Therapy. 6 weeks of physical therapy, 3 times a week. Take my son with me and he totally swoons the entire staff. lol
Physical therapy doesn't work so they send me to an orthopedist. This was about 6 months ago. He orders cortisone injections in my SI joints (where the hips meet the spine). Have one injection in one hip, wait six weeks, then another. Neither work.
Still can't get married because of health insurance, and Xander has to have another surgery. This time for an undescended testicle. He was such a trooper. Walked out of the recovery room, and it didn't even budge him.
I get a new job, since I've been unable to work with all the back pain. I think I'm doing a good job, even have Xander enrolled in PreSchool. They fire me after ten days for "too much initiative". WTF. We're out a deposit of about 200 bucks for the school, and the cost, which was about 400 for those two weeks. I'm so heartbroken and depressed by this, you have no idea. I really was doing a good job there, and had such high hopes. Find out later I was fired because I knew too much about computers and they didn't think I was a right fit as an Admin Assistant because I was studying computers at school WTF. Not to mention, I was about 30 years younger than anyone in the office.
More injections. Epidurals this time. Still didn't take, but a lot more painful. Back is getting worse, taking lots of vicodin just to clean the apartment. Can't manage the walk down the stairs of our building so I stay home.
Nov. 2006 - Say FUCK IT and get married. Yay! Roy's (my husband) father tries to talk him out of it two days beforehand, saying he'll regret it.
January 2007: Here we are. This is the worst of it I think:
First, Roy's father (who is also his boss) tells him that he can't afford to give him the raise he promised him 4 months ago, because of a lack of funds (he is saving money for when the minimum wage increase goes into effect). We're about 15 grand in debt, trying to survive while I can't work. Credit cards are a bitch.
Two more injections, this time CAUDALS. Three times the amount of steroids, two weeks apart. The needle goes in through under the tail bone up to my spine. Pain reminds me of the contractions I had before my epidural. Can't think of any other pain as bad as that.
Yesterday: Call my apartment manager to tell her about our plans to renew our lease. She tells me that because the lady downstairs has placed so many noise complaints against us (only one of which we recieved in writing), we have to leave this apartment and move to a downstairs if we want to stay here. This will mean packing all our shit, getting into a new apartment, and paying the pet deposit again, which has doubled since we moved in, to $500. (FOR A CAT!) Then she tells me that it may not even be all of our fault. It may be a faulty floor, but they can't check it until we evacuate the apartment... at all cost to us, of course. I can't even lift my son, and they expect us to pack all our shit to move one building over!
So..... Yea. I've had a pretty frustrating three years. Always seems like something. As of this moment, I have about 28 days to find a new place to live and get there.... my injections still haven't taken, even though I'm suffering the symptoms of steroid abuse lol, I still can't lose the weight I gained because of the thyroid because of the back pain, and they tell me the back pain may not get better til I lose the weight, but I'm not supposed to exercise because it may aggravate my condition AHHHHH.
I am lucky though. I have the most wonderful husband and the coolest, smartest little boy. (at two and a half, he can count to twenty, knows his ABC's, plays the drums and acordian, and so many other things that just blow my mind everyday)
I'm just a little down right now. Ever since me and my husband got together, we've had to battle the naysayers and the jealousy that comes along with a happy relationship. Then, all of my physical ailments, and the surgeries with my son, the pitfalls of life are getting to me.
I guess what made it worse for me was last December was the 15th year anniversary of my brother's death. He was 20, and I'm now 23... I don't really know how to say it, but I guess I feel guilty because of just being alive... having a family... all the things he didn't get to do.... and of course, now that I have a son of my own.... I don't know, it was just really hard this year.
So that's my story... more like a book, though. Thanks for letting me vent
