March has been the shits so far. Last week started off rough and it hasn't gotten much better yet.
Wednesday (this could be the last Wednesday in Feb, actually) - Ultrasound. No heartbeat. But, we're still early on so we're advised not to worry. We'll check again in two weeks when it will be unmistakable.
Yeah, there was a weekend and church in here too, but I don't think we went. I can't remember it if we did.
Tuesday - This day was shaping up to be just fine but then Emmy started barfing. Right at school pick up time. Like, I go in to get her up from nap so I can go pick up Lexi from school and she's sitting up covered in chunks of lunch. So, I called school. 3 times. No answer. Get a call from them, like I'm the irresponsible one, asking if I'm coming. Yes, as I pull a screaming baby from the bath. Of course I've been barfed on during this whole hullabaloo so I go in barf pants and shirt. You know I have a big, shiny smile on my face, right?
We get home, Emmy barfs again. Well, of course she does. On the only other pair of clean pants I own. Addie starts gagging and I'm sure she's gonna be next so I just kick the bigger girls out. Like, GET OUT and stay there until Dad comes home or this mess is cleaned up. Yes! You can have snacks. No! I don't care which ones - here - take the box you're gonna be out there a while.
I've been barfed on twice in one day and am in underpants because I have no pants. No, really. I have no other pants. I must bathe Emmy yet again and try to leave no trail of chunks as we run upstairs. (Please tell me you haven't forgotten that Emily is totally afraid of the bathtub. You do remember that post, right? So, she's crying and screaming at the top of her lungs through all of this, too.)
We finish the hell that is bath time and get to the sheets, pillows, books and other items from the first barfing episode. Then, we clean chunks up off of the floor downstairs from the second incident.
Of course, when there is an influx of wash to be done, the washing machine isn't in good working order. It's completely off balance and these stupid front loaders are not like your good old top loaders either. One would have to take the entire thing apart and re-balance the weights to get it back to rights. Allen hasn't had time so, each load is averaging 3 hours. NO joke. Three hours. With lots of barf, that is a real mess. And the entire time the machine is like this, "Slaump, slaaaump, slllaaaump, whomp, whomp, whomp" for three hours and it's not even dry when it's done.
Allen gets home, sees me in my underpants and says, "Hello, hello." in his fake British-I'm-so-happy-you're-half-naked voice. 'Cause I'm feeling dead sexy. DEAD. SEXY.
Wednesday - start miscarrying. Ultrasound. No heartbeat. Get lab work done. At least no more barf. I will give Wednesday that. No barf.
Thursday - spend the whole day on the phone trying to get a hold of my doctor. 'Cause with Kaiser you aren't given a direct number with which you may reach your doctor. They definitely do not want patients speaking with their care providers. In fact, when I told the operator I would just walk into the clinic and request my doctor, she "strongly recommended" that I do NOT do any such thing. They absolutely do not recommend patients going to the clinic to try and see their doctors. It is, in fact, frowned upon. That would allow us a chance to be heard or cared for or (gasp!) both.
Friday - more lab work. I think the kids are with Grandma. I spend the day in bed on drugs to move things along now that we know we are definitely losing the pregnancy.
Sat and Sunday - who even freakin' knows what is going on. I do vaguely remember my dad coming by to help Allen with the kids on Sunday. I think it was Sunday. Hmmmm.
Monday - Been fasting since midnight the night before. Surgery isn't scheduled till 2 p.m. Nuff said.
Tuesday - Surgery went as it should have. But, I'm left dizzy and light headed with blurred vision. I'm pretty sure the kids have been at Grandma's for, like, the last 3 days but I really don't know. I do think they finally come home this night.
Wednesday - Still dizzy and light headed. My vision is still blurry. The room is spinning. After 3 hours of "mothering", I break down and ask Grandma to take the small ones (you know, it's not like she's had them for the last 27 days or anything) while Lexi is at school so I can get vertical. That seems to help a little with the constant spinning. (And thank goodness for Grandma. She took them without missing a beat.)
I have missed a week's worth of rehearsals. I have shirked all my scouting duties. Diet is out the window, but the pressure to not gain any weight is certainly not. It's weighing nicely on my spinning mind.
Thursday (today) - still dizzy and light headed. It's one of those stupid things that sounds totally made up but is completely debilitating.
Mid morning, Addie pees her pants. All over the carpet, all over her body, soaking her down to her toes. Quick bath, change of clothes.
Then, she does it again 1/2 an hour later. All over the floor, the stool, her clothes. More baths. More wash. Remember the washing machine, oh yeah, it's not fixed.
After lunches, Emmy goes down for her normal nap. I beg Addie to watch a movie so I can try to get vertical and maybe get my bearings. It's like a total out of body experience. I've never had this type of response to surgery before (I mean, I'm attributing it all to the surgery. Who knows? I guess it could be something unrelated entirely.) and it's totally pissing me off at this point.
As it nears time for us to go and pick up Lexi, I tell Addie to go potty. And she does.
She stands in the bathroom, in front of the sink and pisses all over herself and the floor. In the bathroom. 'Cause the extra two feet it would have taken to get to the toilet is too much? She pissed her pants while standing in the bathroom!!!
She gets yet another bath and change of clothes. And the floor gets another scrubbing.
I take the kids outside to play. I mean, the weather is glorious even though my life sucks ass right now. Why not take advantage of something we got going for us, right?
While peacefully basking in the warm afternoon sun, I see Addie with a look of determination on her face while awkwardly hunching over. I quickly realize she's shitting her pants. Right there in the yard.
So, in one day, she's peed herself 3 times and crapped herself once.
After cleaning up, yet again, Addie turns to me and says, in her most helpful voice ever, "Um, Moooom, Emmy leaked."
Well, sure as shit she did! Child just had explosive diarrhea and leaked out her diaper, down her legs, and all over her pants.
I will say, the floors have never been more clean than they are today. If you are wanting to walk on a beautiful floor with your bare feet, please, come to my house.
Seriously. This is just one day.
I can't articulate how miserable this day has been. I hate being weak and I hate these stupid side effects that make life awful. The kids don't understand what is going on. They don't know why mom is a total wreck. They aren't trying to be difficult. In all honesty, they cannot physically meet all of their own needs. There are no "movie days" with little kids.
Individually, any one of these things would just be a "pain". Annoying yet manageable. Aside from the miscarriage, they are all material things. Or issues that pass. I can hang with that. I've been a mom for 6 years and been through all the yucky mom things.
But it's like the transition state of labor around here these days. It's hard and fast and painful. You're screaming for a break. Screaming for some type of relief. It's the collective efforts of the universe that will catch up with a person.
I think the fair thing to is to call do-over.
Can I do that?