Yes
sane
pineapple5966
Big changes in my life are the in thing right now!

On December 29th, Kyle took me to the Hotel Hershey, and of course I knew there was only one reason we'd be going to such an expensive hotel on a seemingly random night (though later that night, I realized our two-year anniversary of our first date had been the day before). I was told to bring something nice to wear, so I knew we'd be eating someplace nice, and I hoped it might be my favorite restaurant, The Circular Dining Room. We had some time to kill before our dinner reservation though, so we took a self-guided tour of the hotel and returned to the room to relax before it was time to get dolled up for dinner. We were just lying in bed together, both of us in great moods, though Kyle was clearly nervous. He embraced me in bed, kissed me, and told me how much he loved me and how important I was to him before asking me, as he shook quite viciously, if I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. I was caught off guard because I figured the proposal would come at dinner, but once my mind adjusted to what was happening and what he just said, I giggled and said yes. His body physically relaxed, dramatically, then. I held him and told him there was no reason to be so nervous, he knew my answer would be yes. I know he just wanted to give me the proposal I had dreamed about. Truthfully, I would have preferred the dinner proposal, being the attention-craver that I am. But I realize he literally may not have been capable, the way he was so nervous alone in our hotel room. Imagine how he would have been at dinner surrounded my other people! He took me to my favorite place, a place that I had literally dreamed about getting engaged at and married at since I first visited when I was seventeen. He spent more money that I would have dared to expect, not just on the ring, but on the hotel visit, which was apparently a package that included dinner. In the end, he made me so incredibly happy that night, and I wouldn't ever change it.

We talked a little about eloping in late winter or spring, but ultimately we both want our families present. We discussed having a small, intimate ceremony at a posh bed and breakfast, and we also considered going all out, just like both of us had initially wanted. The plans are pretty much on hold until next winter though. We want Jelly Bean to be at least a year old, so the wedding couldn't be before July 2015. I want a fall or winter wedding though, which puts us at the end of 2015. In the meantime, we are hoping to buy a house, though last week we were denied a mortgage. Fortunately, the banker we spoke with said we both had some very minor fixes to take care of, and we would likely be approved by spring or summer. My dream is to bring Jelly Bean home to our true first home, but we have a great place where we are now, in a great neighborhood.

As for pregnancy news, I'm coming up on four months next week! I'm due July 28th, and so far, everything is going great. I have days where I am especially anxious, of course. But we have told just about everyone we need to tell at this point, including our coworkers, so I get to talk about the baby all the time now. All the positive feedback we have been receiving has really only made me more excited. On March 10th (Olivia's 3rd birthday), we will find out if Jelly Bean is a boy, like predicted, or if we actually will have a girl. I feel pretty certain it's a boy in there though. I'm just super excited for the official word. 

Progress Photo
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pineapple5966

I finally had to get out my (only) pair of maternity pants when this photo was taken. None of my jeans fit. That's a new bra as well- the old ones are too small. Today I am on a mission to acquire some maternity scrubs for work. Change has come! By the way, this photo is from the twelfth week!


Finding My Zen
sane
pineapple5966
I'm slipping, just a bit. I'm having a rough night, but really, it's been a rough week or so. I don't have a lot of positivity (not a word, apparently) on my mind, but I'm sort of hoping it's just tonight. Two big things have been on my mind this evening: I'm not ready to be a mom, and, for some reason, I'm dwelling on a former version of myself tonight, and feeling rather sorry for her, and sorry for myself in general. Sometimes, I'm just like, "Shit, I have been through too much in twenty-three years."

So, I keep thinking this being pregnant thing is less and less what I want. I'm actually pretty fucking scared at the moment. I was remembering how Kyle and I would go out to the bar after work AT LEAST once a week, sometimes two or three times, just for drinks usually, sometimes for bar food too. And we'll pretty much never do that again, and that's, unfortunately, and embarrassingly, a hard pill to swallow. We can't go out for drinks now, and when Jelly Bean shows up, well, obviously no more long nights out for us. We won't even be able to have short nights out. We will just be in, twenty-four/seven. Yikes. Maybe that's easier for Kyle to grasp, as he's getting close to thirty and he partied hard in his prime, and he's ready for the next chapter. I'm just not ready yet; I'm having trouble coming to terms with the fact that out last night out was truly our last. I don't even fucking remember when we last went out, or where we went. My last memory of going out is Halloween night. We went to the Lincoln House, didn't dress up, and I felt sort of depressed and isolated because I wasn't drunk enough, so we left. Also, we bought a bottle of champagne to take to Atlantic City with us for my birthday in September, and we didn't drink it there (because we would have died if we drank one more ounce of booze), so it came back home with us, and it's been sitting in our fridge ever since, just waiting for a special occasion. Like getting engaged, you know? But when we finally do get engaged, I don't be able to have any damn champagne anyway, because I'm pregnant. And alcohol aside, what about the fact that we've only been together for two years!? I wasn't finished making memories of our early years together, alone. I have a mental list of the best times we've had together, and I wanted that list to grow before the two of us became the three of us. Sometime, in the near future, I'll record those memories I have, because my list is apparently complete, and it's not going to grow anymore. Boo.

I have been reading old entries, as I usually do, you know, tagging and whatnot, and I am currently in July 2008, three months after Kevin died, and shortly before my little breakdown/Philhaven trip. It's very emotional for me to read those entries, which I didn't expect. I do feel something tugging on my heart, the piece of me that misses Kevin. But to be honest, most of the hurt comes from reading my own words and seeing just how dark my mind and my life were then. There was no light. I was drowning in a massive whirlpool of dark, dark, dark,, sucking me deeper into it's spiral of pain and hopelessness. I was so alone. I just wish that the person I am now, over five years later, could reach back in time and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, telling her, "You'll get through this. You'll even find love again. Just take it easy." I think that Me-Five-Years-Ago could have really used that.

I just feel like I need to state that I am still very excited about where my life is right now. I am happy, I'm just anxious. I'm adjusting, you know? I need to accept the changes that are happening, and the hoard of changes that is still to come. I'm trying to find peace in all the craziness, but I never really was good at finding my zen. 

Blueberry
sane
pineapple5966
Still no official due date, but I am OFFICIALLY very near exactly eight weeks today. I seem to be having one problem after another though, from nighttime nausea, to a stomach bug that landed me in the ER, and from extreme constipation (ick, sorry), to learning that I have a "friable cervix." Every time I see a doctor, the miscarriage statistics seem to be worse; most recently I was told a whopping one in four pregnancies will end in miscarriage. I'm truly making an effort to not get over excited, meanwhile I've basically finalized both a boy name, and a girl name, though about three days ago I was overwhelmed with my first gender-related maternal instinct- it's so gonna be a baby boy. Here are my "official" names, neither of which has much of a chance at all of changing: For a boy, Quentin Mark Leisey; for a girl, Elaina Brooke Leisey. There is maybe a hair of a chance "Quentin" could change to "Carson," because Kyle likes the name Carson, but he also likes Quentin, which is a name I have been attached to for ages. I got it from Quentin Terantino, one of my favorite directors. "Mark" is a tribute to my late Uncle Joe; it was his middle name. "Elaina" is for my grandma; her middle name is Elaine, but that is just a tad too outdated, so I made it into Elaina. I just like the way it sounds with Brooke, though. You see, I have been thinking about these things WAY too much. There's still too much time for bad things to happen. I have also been struggling with keeping this quiet. Lauren was the first to know, then my grandma. Next, Kyle and I told his parents, who were both almost as excited as we are. Then I told my mom. I also told Rebecca, right after my grandma, and the other day at work, I told my old friend Nancy, though she no longer works in my department, so that's okay. Kyle doesn't want anyone at work to know til I hit the 12-week mark, which is still a month away. Nearly unbearable! In the meantime, we'll hopefully get engaged, and tell my dad and my grandpa, the two people I am most nervous to tell. Oh, I also told Sam, right before I told Rebecca, I think. I consulted her about where to schedule my first prenatal appointment.

And Christmas just keeps creeping up on us! So, I'm a bit overwhelmed, needless to say. I don't think I have done laundry in at least three weeks. Kyle and I also haven't cooked a meal since Thanksgiving (we dine out WAY too much). Christmas decorations are only half up. There's a lot of stress in my life. But I saw this kid's heart beating a week ago tomorrow, and I am so overjoyed and excited about the tiny little blueberry in my belly that nothing has been able to get me down the way things like piling up laundry and Christmas decoration delays used to. I'm going to be a mommy... I'm going to have this incredible little family unit with the man I love more than anyone, and I have this baby growing in me, and it's part of that man too, and I am just so... happy. But I will say this: I miss Alyssa more every day, especially now that I can't share any part of this with her, meanwhile she's quite possibly married, and I totally missed all of that... It kills me. I miss her. And I don't think I will ever see or speak to her again, and that's pretty damn hard. I wish I had not just a girlfriend to go through this with, but I want Alyssa. And by January, my New Year's resolution this year will be just one thing: to move on and get over her already. But that's definitely not what I want.

Four Weeks
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Here I am at roughly four weeks! I took these photos four days after I found out. I don't have a due date yet, so its hard to say exactly how far along I am, but the estimate is four to five weeks. More to come!


Big News
sane
pineapple5966
Time for one of my famous earth-shattering life changes, I guess. It has been quite some time, hasn't it? For starters, if I hadn't mentioned previously, I bought a Prius-C to replace my poor, totaled Yaris. Also, tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and Kyle and I are hosting this year, and our families will be meeting for the first time. That's big news, huh? There's more though! About a week ago, Kyle purchased a ring for me! I picked four out, and out of the four that I chose, I do not know which one he picked, so it is still something of a surprise. And the really crazy part of all of this is, that's not even my big news. Here goes: I'm pregnant!

November 21st, a Thursday, I had just worked my final third shift. I got my hair done immediately afterwards, and I stopped at CVS on my way home for a few items, one of them being a pregnancy test. I take so many of those though, I really wasn't exactly expecting a positive result. So I get home and go straight for my typical Thursday-after-a-week-of-night-shift nap. I woke up around 2:30 in the afternoon, and decided I may as well get the pregnancy test out of the way, as Kyle and I were planning to go out that evening, and I just wanted to know I wasn't pregnant before going out to the bar and getting completely plastered. My boobs had been hurting particularly bad, and I thought I might be a little late, but it's hard to tell with cycles as irregular as mine. So I got out of bed (Kyle was in the shower), and groggily peed on a stick and waited the two minutes only to look and see a tiny plus sign showing up, not something I was used to, obviously. It took about ten seconds for it to sink it, and when it did, the hyperventilating ensued. I went to Kyle's bathroom and yelled and screamed for him to get out of the shower and come look at something. He said he thought I was going to show him that one of the cats had died. Instead, he entered my bathroom to find a pregnancy test laying on my bathroom sink, face up, with a positive sign in the window. I asked  him, "Do you think that means what it looks like it means?" I think he was stunned into silence. He sat down, and began to read the instruction pamphlet that came with the test, probably looking for loopholes ("tests not valid on thursdays," or "only for women over 25 with wedding bands). No loopholes, though... And so, I am going to have a baby. Today is my first prenatal appointment. We will also be touring the maternity unit at Reading hospital, where both Kyle and I were born. And last on the agenda today, Kyle will be asking my dad for his permission to propose to me. What a day, right? Obviously there is A LOT more to be said about all of this, but we have to leave in an hour to get all of these things done, and we have to clean the whole house today and put of Christmas decorations. It's going to be a pretty crazy day! For the record, I am absolutely over the moon. I have never been so happy. Kyle is excited as well, but naturally he is a little stressed about money now. You know, a three-month maternity leave, child care, a wedding... lots to pay for in the coming months. Everything will fall into place though, I'm confident of this. 

Something Utterly Terrible
sane
pineapple5966
Okay, here I am, just for a few updates...

I wrecked my car. Totaled it, really. My beloved Yaris is off to the graveyard now, after three years together, almost to the day. I am obviously heartbroken, but mostly I am thankful that no one was seriously hurt, particularly Kyle, who was in my passenger seat when it all went down. There was another car involved, the driver and her dog, the only two occupants of her vehicle, we okay as well. And to set the record straight, yes, it was all my fault. I also will now have six more years of car payments instead of one, plus a 30% increase in my car insurance for two years. This also causes problems for me to be able to save up for the wedding I have been planning for and saving for (and no, I still do not have a ring). I truthfully do not have a back-up plan, except for eloping in Vegas, which is totally not what I want. I guess I'm hoping for a miracle now. The only good that has come of all of this is my new (used) car, a 2012 Prius-C. I absolutely love it, and I'm saving a ton of money on gas. I have always wanted a hybrid, I just never knew I could afford one at this point in my life. There is definitely more story to be told about all of this, just at a later time, I think.

Scout is with me this week and he is just sitting here staring at me waiting for his W.A.L.K. Ah, right, he can't read. His walk. So I should probably get to walking him...

One last thing. It's been a month of Zoloft now, and I don't really feel much different. I also started Ativan again, though I have yet to actually take any. I just have a bottle in my room for emergencies, like the severe chest pain that is apparently anxiety, or the panic episodes where I decide that something utterly terrible is about to happen. Because I do that, like, regularly. Oh, and I am still seeing the unhelpful therapist, though now just twice a month instead of every week. I finally got her blessing to reduce sessions... Hooray. 

Words and Sentences
sane
pineapple5966
Good morning. It isn't, really, so far, anyway. I have been awake since roughly 5am, probably longer than that to be honest. I have played endless games of Candy Crush Saga, Words with Friends, Matching with Friends, and searched for nothing in particular on Pinterest. Don't go getting the idea that I'm finally suffering from insomnia again though; I am not. Yesterday, Kyle worked and I had off. I awoke at an ungodly hour yesterday as well, and pleaded with Kyle to get up with me, around 7am, and go get breakfast at Miller's, his favorite breakfast place, my treat. He did, after about forty-five minutes of my harassment. After breakfast, we watched crime shows on TV together for a while before he had to get ready to head to work, and after he left, I went to sleep. I slept yesterday from roughly noon til 6pm, and again from nine to ten last night before Kyle returned home and got me up again. I presume that is what accounts for my restlessness this morning, and I expect a similar morning tomorrow, as Kyle will be working again today, and I'll be off again.

I do hate these cycles. I need a life. I am lacking the ability to make that sentence more interesting, more artful, because it really is so significant, and it is all I think about anymore, but I don't know how else to put it. I just need a life. I need a ring from Kyle so I can start planning our wedding. I need a bit more money so I can pay for said wedding. And that's the magical equation, because after that, everything else will come easily. The house, a puppy or two, and finally, finally, a baby. If only Kyle knew how strong the desire is in me to reproduce! I am truly beginning to believe though, that there is a real possibility that I am infertile, or that Kyle is, given that we have been having unprotected sex for over a year now, with nothing stopping us from conceiving but careful timing. It still horrifies me to think of a future with no kids for us. I just don't know what I would do.

Two weeks of Zoloft... that shit needs to start working.

As I was lying in bed this morning, after I decided I was going to get up, but before I actually did so, I knew I'd go write. I thought about some things to write about. I got up, made myself a mug of tea, ate a few cookies, fired up this ancient laptop, and just like that, my mind went blank. Even as my tea was stewing, I was thinking of words and sentences, having thoughts and feeling the emotions I feel just about daily, examining the depression, analyzing how bad it is this morning and why... I had enough in my head to write paragraphs and paragraphs. I wish these things would stay in my head. There is nothing more frustrating than beginning to feel good about the ideas you have to write, and then having a blank mind and a blank page in front of you. This morning started out rough, but it had potential. I was going to write, maybe I'd have a breakthrough or something. But I only feel worse now. I guess that's about enough, really. 

Unlikely
sane
pineapple5966
There doesn't seem to be much going on in my life these day, but I felt I needed to write for some reason or another anyway. I guess it just feels good to type sometimes, and to put my thoughts into words and see them, insignificant as they are. Actually though, there are things I wanted to record: I've restarted the Zoloft for about the hundredth time. I noticed as I was reading past entries that I tend not to make note of it when I stop taking a med, only when I start, or re-start, as is usually the case lately. Whenever I last "re-started" the Zoloft, maybe about four to six months ago, I stopped again after about two weeks because, for one thing, I can't remember to take pills, and for another, I didn't have refills on the prescription and didn't feel like contacting my prescriber. However, this time around, I really mean to stick with it, and I think I will, because my symptoms have been borderline unmanageable recently. It's only been a week, but so far, I'm being pretty good about remembering to take it. Apparently, it can help with my anxiety as well as the depression, which really is the bigger problem for me (the anxiety, that is). I know that I dwell on it way too much, and that the problem could probably practically be solved if I just stopped thinking everyday, "I have a terrible anxiety problem and it often ruins my day." But these thoughts make their way into my brain just about everyday, often in the morning, and plague my whole day. I'm also seeing a therapist for these problems, as I believe I've noted already, but she is useless and I really need to break it off with her. She seems to think I can be cured with religion, though she has not come out and directly stated this so far. I can tell that's what she believes though. Also, she has these incredibly cliche ideas as to how to fix anxiety, or how to stop a panic attack. Just imagine I'm on a beach! Presto, I'm fixed, just like that! Ridiculous, isn't it? We spend way too much time going over this stupid stuff, and it's costing me about $120/ month, since I've been seeing her weekly. I've really got to find a way to tell her I don't want to come back when I see her tomorrow... Unlikely.

Oh, my schedule will be changing again! This is good news, too. Third shift is well and good; it's certainly got it's perks, but I ultimately think it is having a negative effect of my mental/emotional health, so back to day shift for me! It really wasn't even my decision. So it's not like I tried it, didn't like it, and gave up. Ica, whom I swapped shifts with initially, has decided she wants to return to third shift, and, incidentally, I was more than happy to go back to first shift. So, after Thanksgiving, we will trade back.

How am I already planning things for Thanksgiving time?!

I really thought we'd be engaged by now. I'm half disgusted with myself for having thought that, but it's true. I thought, this year, for the holidays, I'd be showing off my new ring and discussing wedding details with family and friends. You know, the two friends that I have, that aren't even really friends anyway... Ugh. Anyway, I just thought we'd be preparing for a new chapter by now, but that is definitely not the case, unfortunately. I worry sometimes that engagement isn't something that he is ready for, and that he only tells me it is something that he wants in order to quell my anxiety about it. Or shut me up, whatever. But he claims to be looking for rings, and he claims that he will have one for me within a year... I just think that, in a year, when I read back on this stuff, I'll feel foolish for believing that, and there still will be no ring on my finger. Obviously, that wouldn't be like the end of the world or anything. I just feel like, in my life, I am ready for something new and something big, and it seems logical that that would be marriage. He IS the one, I know that much. It's just a matter of when. Time will tell, as always. 

Twenty-Three
sane
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It's my birthday. Twenty-three. It actually was a pretty good day, it's just that, like most days, my mood had soured at some point in the afternoon or evening, and now I just want tonight to pass, and get to tomorrow morning so I can go back to bed. I spent the morning sleeping today (three hours), the afternoon watching football, eating pizza, buffalo dip, and ice cream cake with my boyfriend and family, and the evening trying to get a couple more hours of sleep. I guess I got irritated when Kyle decided to vacuum the couch about ten minutes after I returned to bed around 5 o'clock this evening. First of all, who vacuums the couch? Second, why must that chore be done while I am trying to get a couple more hours of sleep before my ten-hour shift at work? Talk about inconsiderate. But, while we're on the topic of inconsiderate, how about refusing to play a damn game of cards with me on my birthday in favor of watching a third full-length football game in one day? I'd say that's rather rude too, considering I happily watched one whole game by his side today, and he got to watch a second entire game while I took my evening nap. I mean, can't we just turn off the TV and spend an hour playing cards and enjoying each others' company before I have to leave for the night? Nah, that's asking too much, who cares that it's my birthday. Maybe I just need to get rid of the notion that birthdays are supposed to be about you, even if only for a couple hours. Sundays are for football, not birthdays. Whoever decided my birthday would fall on a football Sunday had clearly forgotten that there are much more important things in the world than annual birthdays. Fuck the fact that they only come once a year. Sure, football Sundays are a weekly event for about five months, but there's still no room to celebrate a birthday when there's a good game on TV.

Oh, and just to add to the whole "inconsiderations" (which is not a word) issue: I believe I've mentioned that I bit my tongue and apologized to Alyssa for the things I've done wrong, accepted more than my fair share of blame, and even hoped that my apology might not only be accepted, but that we could perhaps be friendly to each other again some day. I meant every word of the apology I sent her, but I definitely restrained a lot of anger I had, and I do believe that anger was pretty much justified, while writing out this apology. I did not expect, or even really want, and response from her, as this was really just an opportunity for me to get the closure she had denied me for months. I wanted to apologize so that we could both move on. I would have been delighted to hear that my apology was not only accepted, but that Alyssa maybe wanted to meet up sometime, to catch up and really talk about things, probably cry a little... but I didn't really expect it, and, at this point, I'd bet it's not going to happen. Here's why though: she received my full, typed out apology about a week or so after she granted me permission to write it and send it to her. I told her it might not come immediately because I had a lot to say and I wanted to take my time and really think things through before hitting the "send" button. But after a week I had taken enough time, proof-read, and decided it was okay to go, so I sent it. After another week or two, I received a response, which basically said, you know, apology accepted... AND that she intended to respond but wanted to take her time as well. That was over a month ago. I check my messages daily for that damned "response," always hoping secretly for some sort of reconciliation to come of it. By now, I'm not sure she even remembers that she told me she'd be getting back to me. I think she very well may have forgotten, as it has been a month and all. I think that forgetting something like that, in general, is rather inconsiderate. But it's my birthday now, and I thought maybe she'd remember, and say something to me, like "Happy birthday," but no. No birthday wishes from her, and no response at all. I just feel like these sort of things are really what led to our falling out in the first place. Like, I felt like she was very inconsiderate before, when she'd take three days to send a text message back, not ever answer calls, etc. Or, in the end, fail to give me an explanation of her particular lack of response for about two months. When she and I first got back in touch about two months ago, she made it sound like she had recognized her own wrong-doings as well, and was also sorry. I thought things would be different, but here I am, in the same situation I had been in not even a year ago, checking messages and emails constantly, wondering how I'd been forgotten... Things really never will be the same. I get that I did a lot of things wrong and truly don't deserve all that I expect sometimes... but I feel like, after a month, wanting just to know that I have ot been forgotten, especially on my birthday, really isn't asking all that much. Maybe I'm the one who has failed to learn a lesson here though. Once again, perhaps I am ultimately at fault. I only wish I knew.

Damn, I hope twenty-three has just a little more to offer than twenty-two did. Twenty-two was hard on my, much like twenty-one, and eighteen, and seventeen, and just too damn many years before this one. I guess there were a few decent years in there... maybe that's all I get anymore. But I just really want an okay year, more than anything. A year to be happy, and to be okay with my own life. A year to rest easily and take time to enjoy, rather than constantly wish time would just speed up and I could get closer to my impending death... Okay, that was a bit too morbid, a bit too mellow-dramatic... Not necessary, I know. My bad. I guess if I want a good year, I've got to start looking up.

I do have wonderful grandparents. I'd be lost without them. My gratitude and love for them go so incredibly deep. They are much of the good in my life. Happy Grandparents' Day, Pap and Gram. You're my favorites. 

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