Let me reintroduce myself

Well, I feel like I should or something. But I won’t. Instead, I’ll catch you up on what I’ve been up to since I blogged last. Get ready because it’s some super duper shit…

November and December: They played some MOVIES on T.V. and I WATCHED THEM. Became obsessed with SONS OF ANARCHY and DEXTER for no reason other than they are awesome, ass-kicking shows. I KNITTED a HAT and a pair of GLOVES. Wowee! We also all got sick on CHRISTMAS making it the worst Christmas in the history of Christmases…for my family, at least. And last but not least in this list of events, I shot a VIDEO with my POWERSHOT and took at least 2.5 hours trying to upload it to Viddler because I have problems. Please, don’t be jealous of my skillz.

This is the ‘Gingerbread Rap Song’ performed by Dylan and his classmates at their school music program on 12/17/09. He’s in the back row, 3rd from the left. And don’t worry about understanding the words because you can’t. Just enjoy the carefree flails and enthusiasm of childhood.

I had female problems

The past few weeks have been a nightmare for me. Stressful and emotionally draining. Only today have I found some much needed relief.

The thing is, I do it to myself. On October 16th, I was supposed to get my period. When I didn’t, my brain immediately went into ‘OMG I AM SO PREGNANT, NOOOO’ mode. I worried, I fretted, I went through a bout of depression (if I can call it that…I know the clinically depressed don’t really appreciate people throwing that word around). Days went by and not even a single cramp or any semblance of sensation in my female plumbing. I’ve NEVER been more than 3 or 4 days late, and I was confused. I began playing the ‘what if’ scenarios over and over in my head, even though I didn’t want to. Whenever I tried to relax, take a deep breath, and have fun, my worries would rear their ugly head at that precise moment.

I know, I know, many think that it’s not a big deal. And even more would probably give up their left ovary to have a ‘fear’ of being pregnant. But it’s not something that I take very lightly. I’ve been through the struggles and trying times of giving birth and raising one child already. Yes, I have a happy marriage and a happy family, but I haven’t yet reached a point where I’m ready to do it all over again with a new baby. Maybe someday. But not now. And we take precautions to avoid it. THAT’S why I practically lost my shit, I believe.

Anyway, by the time the 23rd rolled around, I was at the end of my rope. Of course, hindsight is always 20/20, but it felt like I’d already been waiting and wondering for a hundred years. I worried and fretted and overreacted so badly by this point that I couldn’t concentrate or get any enjoyment out of anything. I dragged myself into work, but didn’t put forth any effort because MY CRAZY BRAIN WOULD NOT ALLOW IT. I hate waiting. I hate not knowing. I HATED my body for what it was doing to me emotionally.

Two negative pregnancy tests and a 10 day delayed period later, I think I can finally put my mind at ease and take comfort in the fact that I’m NOT pregnant. I don’t know what happened down there this past month to make things get all wacky, but I can only hope that if it ever happens again, I’ll be more prepared to deal with it…constructively.