Bra shopping

Getting measured by the clerk at Dillard's always makes me self-conscious for one reason only. I am a 1 bra only type of girl. I wear the same bra over and over until its hanging on by the last thread. Not because I don’t wish to have many sexy bras. Believe me, I do. I would love to be wearing some naughty lingerie on the nightly not only for the husband but for myself. But instead, I am stuck in my one bra where it only has one underwire left, holes on the sides and it smells, well not great.

Why you must ask? Because plus size bras are uber expensive. The nice ones anyway. And to find them at any store is always a challenge. I normally only find one by luck and never take the time to search for more online. Because lets be honest, I am too lazy to purchase it online, try it on and then have to return it because it doesn’t fit right or its ugly. That is way too much work for me.  That’s how I become a one bra girl.

Now, being pregnant on top of going in and getting measured always makes me cringe. Here I am standing in a dressing room in all my over weight pregnancy glory with my tattered bra hanging off my saggy boobs. As she wraps her arms around me with a measure tape. And each time I go in to get measured I go up in size. (mind you, I tend not go for a year or more because I dread it.)

Today, as we walked back there. I blurted out that I was like 6 months pregnant (which nope, just 4 months) and I’ve wore the worst bra ever today because hey its laundry day so don’t mind the look of it. Which she just nods knowing full well that this was my only one. Maybe thinking that I was lying about being pregnant. Because hey in all reality I look fat to other people and only pregnant to me.

She did her thing and walked out to go find me a size that would hopefully work. About 10 or so minutes later she walks in and helps me put on the bra she found. She then left and came back with another lady who they both proceeded to whisper to each other as they were pressing the bra down here and tucking it there.

Finally they said, Yep this one wont due. Its is a 44 H and you are a 44 I. We don’t carry that one here yet, not until September.

What?! I went from a size 42 G to a 44 I in one year. Insert the shock now  They left and told me to wait that they will try and find something that will work until then.

They came back with the most boring thick strapped fat girl bra ever. Squeezed me into it and explained that they went to a 40 H full coverage because that will be the best one until I can come back for the other.

And that is why 60+ dollars later I own 1 bra that barely fits.

What is even more fun? Is finding a nursing bra in that size. That one I will have to look online and I will settle for the one I get because hey, returning it will be a bitch.

I became so bitter

Right now the front door is left open and I can hear the crickets as they call in the night. Wyatt is sitting on the couch next to me reading and whispering the chapters to himself as Gunner snores softly in his bed. It’s almost 10pm and I feel quite comforted  as I hear the night roll in. Its been a long difficult week for me, emotionally. After finding out about Gunner’s speech issue I found myself not dealing with it in the best way I could have. I let my fears over take me.

What made it worse, was the random spontaneous weekend I took with my boys thanks to Cody’s Aunt and Uncle. Now let me make it clear, the weekend in a condo, in the mountains with my boys was not at all bad. I enjoyed it. What made me have a break down when I got home was the fact that for those 4 days I was mostly by myself with the boys as Cody could not get work off.

It made me realize just how alone I was in dealing with Gunner’s news. It also gave me plenty of time at night to read other peoples stories about apraxia. Which not only do you get the extreme positive but you also get the extreme negative.

I took those 4 days and became very bitter at my husband. Here I was, alone in the condo with the kids doing everything. Cooking, cleaning, entertaining, worrying, exploring. Dealing with the whining, the overly hot tired kids, the tantrums because one was doing what the other kid wanted. Bed times, bath times, the no me time.

Where as my husband after work took his time in getting up to visit with us in the condo. He got all the fun stuff. Where the kids ran to him excited to see him, the fun games and movie time, the extra cuddles before they fall asleep on his lap, the time to go home and sleep in his own bed and have his own time.

I became so bitter. I’d think about how he wasn’t here, how he was always working and saying “yes” to everyone else but me and the kids. How he would have his friend come over to our house after he leave me and the kids alone in the condo by ourselves. How he didn’t see that it was hurting me. How he wasn’t the one researching Gunner’s issue. How he didn’t get how bad it could be or how it really is.

 

How he wasn’t the one who would be working daily, nightly doing speech exercises. How he wouldn’t be the one calling and dealing with schools when Gunner was of age. How he wouldn’t be at all the appointments, how it would be me taking Wyatt to karate, soccer, school, then Gunner to speech and all his activities.How I would be going back to work, and cleaning the house, paying the bills, taking pictures and making invitations for my sisters wedding, feeding the family and then on top of that I am having another kid. A kid, that will add to the list of things I’d be doing.

I grew very sad up there alone in the mountains. I thought about everything that was and could be going wrong. About how Gunner will struggle, how Wyatt struggles and how the baby could struggle. I even thought about how something horrible could happen to the baby before it was even born.

So when we finally did get home, I tried to vent to Cody about it all. He of course, tried to be positive (a rarity for him) saying that we will deal with whatever comes. That just made me more mad. We! I thought We, no its me. Me, and me alone.

 

I went to bed that night pissed and crying because he didn’t get it. And when I woke up the next morning and talk more to him I realized that he did get it, just not in the way I needed. After a long talk, where I cried a lot. I was finally able to listen to what he was saying and not take it for granted.

He was doing what he could. He was working hard everyday and night to make sure I was able to be here in the summer so I can deal with any kid issues that came up. That he did in fact worry about the same things I do but he did his worrying in a different way, because well, he is different.

I than realized again, like I do every time we have these talks that we are two very different people and we both react to things in two very different ways. And that him working was not to avoid or not to love me but to make sure that I and the kids could have every chance. That him not researching about Gunner’s issue was not because he didn’t want too but it was because he knew I was already on top of it. That he was allowing me to be. That he wouldn’t be leaving me alone. That he was right beside me I just didn’t see it because I was full on running towards the issue where I actually left him behind trying to catch up to me.

That’s who we are. Him, the quite follower and me the loud demanding leader.

I am not bitter anymore, just tired. Tired of leading. Wishing I was able to allow other people to jump in and support me with out unknowingly pushing them away.

Tonight, I think I will do just that.

Gunner has what?

My mind is overwhelm with information as of last night. I stayed up way too late researching and not only do I feel empowered but I am also a tiny bit well, a lot of bit scared of what the future holds for Gunner.

As some of you know Gunner has been seeing a speech therapist. It has be going wellish. At one appointment he is thriving and saying more words and using sign language and then at the next appointment he is not moving forward and fails to use words and refuses to use signs.

We’ve been on this rollercoaster.

Tuesday we had his appointment and I explained to Sue his therapist that Gunner randomly will say a word and then when asked to say it again later he wont repeat it. For example, while we were out to eat the other day as Cody and I were enjoying our conversation Gunner blurted out “dinosaur”  clear as day. Stunned we looked at him and cheered! So in my mind he should be able to repeat that word again. So later, I would ask for him to say it and he would look like he was thinking about saying it but then when he couldn’t muster up the word he moved on and didn’t say it.

I told her that he seems to do that with a lot of words that he has said but wont say again. (which is what led us to search out early intervention.) Concerned she started to do more work with him. She pulled out a bag full of farm animals and proceeded to play with him. Watching as each time I’d encourage him (as per instruction) as to what each animal was. “Oooh Gunner, look at this! What animals is this Gunner? Can you say Cooooow  Gunner?

You could see that each time I would ask that he’d shy away and avoid talking with us. That concerned Sue. So we stopped asking what each animal was and just proceed to keep playing and saying “here is a cow, hello cow!” “Here is a chicken Hi, chicken!” using the sign for each animal. When we did this he opened up more and began to try and make the sound of each animal.

But as he tried to make the sound of each animal (that he didn’t already know) you could see that he had to concentrate more. Like he was trying to force his mouth to say the sound his brain knew. This concerned Sue even more.

She did more activities with him and at the end of the session she said. “It could very well be that Gunner has Childhood Apraxia Of Speech.” She explained that his brain knows what he wants to say but its mixing up the signals that go to his mouth muscles which causes delays in saying the word. Which is why when he is asked to say a word he gets frustrated and chooses not too. Because he wants too but physically cant.

She told me that if this is what it is. It will be a hard road. That it will take time and effort. And all that we can do now is continue to sign and continue to work with him but instead of asking questions like we were, instead we tell him what things are. So we’d say (as Gunner points to an animal in a book.) “Yes, Gunner that is a COOW. The COOW says MOOO” Instead of saying as his points to the picture of a cow. “What Gunner? What is it? What do you see. A ___”  wait to see if he says it.

She told me that hopefully it is not what she thinks and that by 2 1/2 a magic light will turn on and his brain will click with his mouth and he will start saying words. But more than likely once he is 3 we can start working more on the Apraxia. That they wait until 3 to start working because it is intense therapy and that the child needs to be able to handle the work that needs to be done.

We ended the session with tips on what I need to do more on with him. And that was it.

She left and I felt scared.

What will happen if it is that? So I Googled it. Read about how it effects children, how it could delay not only speech but reading, writing, school etc. How kids struggle and how its hard to diagnose.

I cried.

No one wants there son or child to have to suffer on any points in their life. Ever. And here is my son, whose sweet, funny, outgoing, a pistol. Who could possible live in a hard quite world struggling daily to communicate with us, with anyone. That he will have to work hard to just be able to say what he needs, to have a voice.

So I called my mom. Who listened and reassured me. I facebooked it and had people tell me their stories about how it will all be fine. So I started to feel good about it. That it will be fine. Then a cousin sent me this post. Which led me to blogs and websites and Facebook groups. Where I stayed up late reading more on apraxia.

I went to bed overwhelm, worried, hopeful, concerned and I woke up today empowered to be my son’s voice. Although he is still “too young” to be fully diagnosed. I am now convinced that he indeed has it.

So instead of waiting I am going to be doing.

I joined the groups and got the apps they recommend. I will read the books they suggest and I will work hard with Sue to make sure that my son has a chance.

I know that when we see Sue again in a couple of weeks that she will be on the same page with me to work with Gunner until he can be included in the 3 year old intense classes. And that she and I will be able to get him where he needs to be. Because of how much she repeated over and over on how it could be this, how hard it will be and how we need to be ready.

And even if that magic light comes on at 2 1/2 doesn’t mean that I won’t stop being that voice for my son but until then I will enjoy the little words he does have and love him with the same force I have. Because he deserves the world and more.

crawling out of the first trimester blues

(blob at 13 weeks.)

I am finally crawling out of the first trimester blues. You know where you don’t want to do anything but sleep, throw up, pee and have the AC on high because growing a human is hot, sweaty, almost always pee your pants when you sneeze kind of work. I keep telling Cody that I am so grateful that I am not 8 months pregnant in this hot summer like I was with the boys because my god if I cant handle it at this stage I would have surely died then.

I am currently unable to eat anything. Not because I throw up or get nauseated but because I crave nothing. Anything but overly ICED water sound awful and I would rather go hungry. I don’t because then I get shaking and hot and well non functional if I don’t somehow get food into my belly. So I manage to force myself to eat something. I do know that the kid hates cheese. I always throw up after I eat cheese. Which if you know me, I am a cheese lover and will put it on anything and everything so I curse this kid already.

She well “it” is a little stinker because when we were at the doctors appointment the other day to you know FIND OUT WHAT IT IS. It decided that it would be a good time to sleep with it’s little butt in the air and refuse to move. It was just all snuggled in there with it’s hand up to it’s face sleeping away like we weren't waiting for the big revel of a girl that I so need in a house full of boys. So you know, its most likely a boy whose playing hide and seek. My bet is that we won’t get to find out what it is until we’re almost due. And that somehow it is indeed a boy and this girl fantasy that I have is just that, a fantasy.

I’ll take a boy though. I might cry a little bit because this is the last pregnancy (it is really, gonna tie up those tubes.)and I will never know what it would be like love a little girl.

But all in all the pregnancy is a lot easier than it was with the boys. I finally got my energy back and have been able to go out on walks with the kids with out feeling like I am going to die if I take another step. And I have been napping less. (going to bed earlier though) which is nice because I felt like I was a hermit hiding in the house and the poor boys were thrilled when they saw what outside looked like for more than a few minutes before I pulled them back inside. So I’d say they’re happy that we can do more than watch Netflix as I take a nap on the couch. I am too actually.

Here’s to the second trimester! May it be filled with enough energy to get me through the day.