Oh wow. It's been quite a journey and we're not scheduled to close until March 27th.
What makes me cringe even more is knowing that this is just the FIRST half of our journey. After we move into an apartment, we will be going into the second phase as buyers.
I want to crawl into bed and pretend I don't have to do anything. Instead, I'm writing this entry. So sort of the same thing.
A week or so after we accepted the offer from our buyer, they must have just looked at the paper work we submitted. Why it took so long for them to get the paperwork, I have no idea. Anyway. They freaked out when they saw we had been burglarized. In fact, they cancelled the inspection that was scheduled for that day so they could review the police report. And request from us a letter stating what had happened.
Oh hell. Our realtor said that we should be OK but needed to hear back from the buyer's realtor. We were so nervous. What if they backed out? Luckily, they read the report and our statement and felt better - no violence, no damage. Just some stolen items. Sucks but they could deal with that.
Sale still on. Phew. We rescheduled the inspection and all is good. The home is almost five years old and is in great shape. They're happy, we're happy.
Then came the appraisal. No problem, we thought.
Son of a biscuit. The appraiser valued our home 15K less than the price we listed it. That means our home is about 65K less than what we paid. This threw all sorts of sh*t into the fan yesterday. The sellers freaked out, causing us to freak out, then they changed their offer to 20K less than what we all agreed upon AND were no longer offering to let us stay 30 days rent free.
Confused? I was. I thought they were pissed at us because they thought we knew our home value was less than what we listed it. Hell, I thought we were listing it at a stupid low price and come to find out, it's worse.
I couldn't sleep last night. I thought, what the hell did we sign papers for if everything was going to change with the appraisal? In fact, our contract STATED that it was regardless of what the appraisal was. I'm still confused but I think I mostly get it:
So, even though they are now getting the house 20K less than what they originally bidded, the buyers are paying 5K more out of pocket because their loan will only cover what the house is appraised for. That's why they took away the one month rent free because they were fronting 5K more out of their pocket. Even though they are buying the home for 20K less than what they originally offered. My realtor said that they must really want our home because they are essentially paying 65K above the value of the home.
Of course, how I see it, is that we're now taking a 10K loss. But, since we listed it at a 50K loss, we still feel very fortunate. And yes, blessed. Our realtor said that our buyers are offering 40% down which is very competitive and helps us when we turn around and become buyers ourselves.
If you follow all this, good for you. You are clearly a smart cookie. I have a very nice realtor who explained this to me and then answered my many questions because I didn't quite understand why sh*t changed after the appraisal when we all signed the contract. As well as why they were taking away the 30 days rent free. I saw it as they were getting the home 20K cheaper. They saw it as an additional 5K they had to immediately shell out. How sad that both parties feel S-O-L.
If you can't tell already, I find the business of selling and buying homes very confusing. And extremely frustrating. My FaceBook status update last night was, "Escrow is fickle hag." I knew stuff could go down, like loans not being approved but there is a lot that can go wrong and/or change during escrow. I also appreciate my realtor more because I know she and the buyer's realtor are working hard on making this all work.
My realtor paid me a compliment, saying that I should think about becoming a realtor because I have the personality for it. Funny enough, The Man said the same thing the day I was showing our home all day. I take it as a compliment because I think you have to be very patient, smart, savvy, persuasive and persistent to be a successful realtor. But it is definitely not my calling. I don't have the patience nor do I want to work the hours that they do. They have to show homes after work hours and on the weekends in addition to all the paperwork and negotiation they do with realtors, lenders and brokers. I know I'm a problem solver but there are way too many unknown factors and too many things that could go awry for my comfort. Everyone thinks it's all good and then BAM. Something comes out of left field to muck it all up. I can only imagine how it must be with older homes. No, thank you. What a headache. I do have a new found respect for the good realtors, though. Like mine. And, even though I have limited interaction, I think the buyers' realtor is good, too.
Now we are figuring out how we can move in the next four weeks. The buyers agreed to give us two weeks after escrow closes. We have to find a storage unit, a two bedroom apartment that allows dogs, moving company and time to pack up all our crap sooner rather than later. Somewhere between working demanding full-time jobs and a three year old who rightfully demands attention when we're all home.
That last part is the reason why I want to crawl into bed. Or procrastinate by updating my blog.
Saturday, March 16, 2013
Tuesday, March 05, 2013
Thanking God
As you know, we are selling our home. I felt guilty for asking so much in my prayers: for us to sell our home at a good price, for my parents to do the same and for us to then buy a good home at a good price. But many folks told me that I must be specific in my prayers. So I prayed for it all in addition to praying what I always pray for-good health, happiness and prosperity for all my loved ones. I felt like I was asking for so much.
Well, exactly one week ago and six days after our home went on the market, my realtor called me saying we received a very good offer. (Two days after we showed our home for one day by appointment only). Remember how we listed at a 50K loss? The buyer offered to pay 60K above the asking price. This means we will break even because the additional profit will cover all the taxes, fees and other costs. The buyer also offered to let us stay one month rent free after escrow.
We feel so blessed. We were disheartened when our realtor first suggested we list lower than what we paid. We understood, however, it was what we needed to do to be competitive. Bigger homes in our neighborhood recently sold for close to that price. We trusted in God that it would all work out and we hoped to recoup some of the loss when folks started bidding. We never expected, though, to sell over the price we paid!
We still have so much more to go through with this sale (we're officially in escrow!) and everything else before finally getting into a new-to-us-but-not-new home. I'm still in awe, though. And so thankful.
Oh, and buyer IS one of the families we fell in love with! They are the initial couple who reminded us of ourselves when we were younger and fresher:) We know it shouldn't matter but we are very pleased it's them. The Man and I already agreed we were going to make this home as nice as possible before we leave and deep clean it so they don't have to worry about it.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Well, exactly one week ago and six days after our home went on the market, my realtor called me saying we received a very good offer. (Two days after we showed our home for one day by appointment only). Remember how we listed at a 50K loss? The buyer offered to pay 60K above the asking price. This means we will break even because the additional profit will cover all the taxes, fees and other costs. The buyer also offered to let us stay one month rent free after escrow.
We feel so blessed. We were disheartened when our realtor first suggested we list lower than what we paid. We understood, however, it was what we needed to do to be competitive. Bigger homes in our neighborhood recently sold for close to that price. We trusted in God that it would all work out and we hoped to recoup some of the loss when folks started bidding. We never expected, though, to sell over the price we paid!
We still have so much more to go through with this sale (we're officially in escrow!) and everything else before finally getting into a new-to-us-but-not-new home. I'm still in awe, though. And so thankful.
Oh, and buyer IS one of the families we fell in love with! They are the initial couple who reminded us of ourselves when we were younger and fresher:) We know it shouldn't matter but we are very pleased it's them. The Man and I already agreed we were going to make this home as nice as possible before we leave and deep clean it so they don't have to worry about it.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
Hello, First Time Buyer. My name is First Time Seller. Come and check out my house.
I'm a SUCKER for new families!
I know next to nothing about selling a home. When we bought our first home, our current home, we bought it directly from the builder. Yes, we were/are very blessed to have our very first home be brand spankin' new. Here's the thing: we looked at homes in the same price range in better school districts but they were fixer uppers. How appealing is it to look at a brand new home for the same price in a not-good school district? Very appealing when your child is in the womb.
Here were are, though, with a child who is one year away from being school aged and it is a very big deal to be in a good school district. Not to mention the burglary that happened earlier this month. Couple those together and we're putting our home on the market.
Let me tell you, the entire thing is a mind eff. How? OK, it's twofold. First, listing the home in the current market. Our realtor ran a comparison and, unfortunately, we have to sell our home at a loss. Thankfully, not short sale but a good chunk of change less than what we paid for. Big old bummer. We still built up equity (I think that's the correct term) so yay us. We are optimistic because there is a low inventory of houses making ours pretty desirable. Here's where the mind eff is: although there are a low inventory of homes, this does not drive up the price of our house. You think it would be because of the comparison and what people are buying at the price points they are buying at, our home still needs to stay competitive and list 50K less than what we paid.
Ouch.
I went off on a tangent. So the mind eff. In showing my home 26 times, I chose to escort them all rather than letting them all run free because we still had valuables and I was extremely uncomfortable letting people roam around unchaperoned. Well, people ask questions and I answered them all truthfully. Most of my answers were extremely complimentary of the home itself as well as my neighbors and the neighborhood. This, along with folks saying really nice things about the property, could really twist a person's thoughts about selling. I mean, why are we moving? This is a corner lot with plenty of privacy, parking, lots of light, nearly new appliances and minimal wear and tear. Why would I move?
I could almost hear the thoughts of these potential buyers, thinking "Do you know what's out there? Do you know how many homes we bid on and lost? Are you actually going to sell this place and put yourself in our shoes? What the hell's the matter with you guys? It SUCKS being a buyer right now!" AND THEY'RE RIGHT!
I lied, there's one more mind eff and it's exactly what I just mentioned: We will go from being a seller to a buyer and it is not fun. While the percentage rates are low (yay!) so is the inventory. We are going to be bidding against people who can pay all in cash. We are going to have a heart broken several times before we find "the one." I know, I should visualize positive thoughts and pray for positive things. And I do! But the realistic side of me can't forget how difficult it was for us in 2009 when we were looking at pre-owned homes. It's even harder now. I also don't know of anyone who got the very first home they fell in love with and put an offer on. But there's always a first, yes? Yes!
I told The Man this is why even though I was tired of giving tours and accepting appointments (our realtor was shocked I had 26 appointments and thought that we would get half that, max) that I did it anyway. Yes, I figured the odds of a good offer would increase the more I showed the home. But I also did it because I know we're going to be on the other side, too. I want people to be kind to me and open their home to me when it's time for us to buy a home. It sounds simple but there are plenty of a-holes out there. Just recently we encountered a jerk of a realtor when looking at a home. Poor home owners, I don't know if they realize how much their realtor deterred folks from putting in an offer. (We were semi-serious but, due to our interaction with that realtor, decided to wait and look at what else is out there. Plus, we need to sell our home first to see how much we have to work with.)
Oh! And the families that checked out our home! I fell in love with three of them but liked just about everyone who viewed our house. I told The Man that I wish I had Oprah-money because everyone who came would get a house. "You get a house! And you get a house. And you two, you can have a house too!" There were a few who opened up at the end and said they had been looking for months. Or that this will be the sixth house they put a bid for. One adorable couple came back a half hour later, apologizing for the inconvenience (it was OK, though because I had a break between appointments) and asked what they could offer additionally to be a desirable bid. Were we interested in renting back while we looked? Were we looking at only cash? They really liked our home and wanted to be seriously considered. They looked nothing like us but The Man and I saw ourselves in them. They were us when we were looking at homes in 2009. That is, we thought they were younger versions of us because we remembered what it was like to be excited about a home and want to be home owners already. They wanted to start a family! They truly reminded us of us ... until the last couple came. Oh boy, did they remind us of us;)
The last couple was also very excited about our home and shared that they were expecting a baby in August. The husband was wearing his PG&E gear and apologized for being in his work clothes. The Man asked, "Are you an electrician?" to which the husband replied, "No, I work with gas." But The Man was still taken by this couple because this couple was exactly us in 2009. The husband is a blue collar worker and, like The Man, very respectful and a little on the quiet side. The pregnant wife looks nothing like me but I was two months pregnant when we looked at homes. The Man remembered wanting us to be all settled in before I gave birth. They were one of the families that shared they had been looking for a while and the wife jokingly but not jokingly said, "Yes, please consider us! This baby needs a home."
Well played, girlfriend. I would have said the exact same thing;)
When it comes down to it, we will of course take the best offer. But, my goodness, my heart goes out to all these families who just want a nice home in a nice neighborhood. The young families reminded us so much of ourselves and, I'm telling you, I wish I had the money to give out homes left and right because just about everyone was so very nice.
Here's praying and hoping for an outstanding offer. Then praying we, too, find a good next home.
I know next to nothing about selling a home. When we bought our first home, our current home, we bought it directly from the builder. Yes, we were/are very blessed to have our very first home be brand spankin' new. Here's the thing: we looked at homes in the same price range in better school districts but they were fixer uppers. How appealing is it to look at a brand new home for the same price in a not-good school district? Very appealing when your child is in the womb.
Here were are, though, with a child who is one year away from being school aged and it is a very big deal to be in a good school district. Not to mention the burglary that happened earlier this month. Couple those together and we're putting our home on the market.
Let me tell you, the entire thing is a mind eff. How? OK, it's twofold. First, listing the home in the current market. Our realtor ran a comparison and, unfortunately, we have to sell our home at a loss. Thankfully, not short sale but a good chunk of change less than what we paid for. Big old bummer. We still built up equity (I think that's the correct term) so yay us. We are optimistic because there is a low inventory of houses making ours pretty desirable. Here's where the mind eff is: although there are a low inventory of homes, this does not drive up the price of our house. You think it would be because of the comparison and what people are buying at the price points they are buying at, our home still needs to stay competitive and list 50K less than what we paid.
Ouch.
 |
| Our first home is pretty spiffy. |
Second mind eff: We are obviously currently living in the home we are trying to sell. A benefit to having a market with low inventory is we can set the parameters of when we show the home. We decided to open our home for one day, all day, by appointment. We showed our house 26 times. Yes, that's right - I showed my house to 26 realtors and potential buyers. We hid all our clutter and made the house look as bare and nondescript as possible. In addition to clutter like laundry and toys, we put away all our photos and anything sentimental or personal so people could imagine their stuff in this home.
I mentally prepared myself for people to be pretty critical of the home because, after all, it's a big purchase. And, I'm sure you've done this because we certain have when attending an open house, I was ready to hear people rip apart the layout or condition of the home. Can't take it personally, right? But everyone was so nice. They were all so complimentary of how we took care of our home and couldn't believe we had a three year old! Little do they know we also have two dogs ... we kept them in the garage while showing the home so I think they thought we always kept them outdoors. Hehehe. What was also nice was that almost all the realtors complimented us, as well, and said we did a great job making it "show ready."
It's funny what will make a person feel better but these compliments did make me feel good. We tried very hard to keep our home nice. It is pretty difficult with two dogs and a toddler. Frankly, it's hard with just a couple of adults! The whole selling of our home is stressful because of the uncertainty so it was just nice to hear people so complimentary. I mean, I'm not delusional. I know people had critiques. But they were nice enough to murmur them to their realtors or wait until they were outside before stating them.I went off on a tangent. So the mind eff. In showing my home 26 times, I chose to escort them all rather than letting them all run free because we still had valuables and I was extremely uncomfortable letting people roam around unchaperoned. Well, people ask questions and I answered them all truthfully. Most of my answers were extremely complimentary of the home itself as well as my neighbors and the neighborhood. This, along with folks saying really nice things about the property, could really twist a person's thoughts about selling. I mean, why are we moving? This is a corner lot with plenty of privacy, parking, lots of light, nearly new appliances and minimal wear and tear. Why would I move?
I could almost hear the thoughts of these potential buyers, thinking "Do you know what's out there? Do you know how many homes we bid on and lost? Are you actually going to sell this place and put yourself in our shoes? What the hell's the matter with you guys? It SUCKS being a buyer right now!" AND THEY'RE RIGHT!
I lied, there's one more mind eff and it's exactly what I just mentioned: We will go from being a seller to a buyer and it is not fun. While the percentage rates are low (yay!) so is the inventory. We are going to be bidding against people who can pay all in cash. We are going to have a heart broken several times before we find "the one." I know, I should visualize positive thoughts and pray for positive things. And I do! But the realistic side of me can't forget how difficult it was for us in 2009 when we were looking at pre-owned homes. It's even harder now. I also don't know of anyone who got the very first home they fell in love with and put an offer on. But there's always a first, yes? Yes!
I told The Man this is why even though I was tired of giving tours and accepting appointments (our realtor was shocked I had 26 appointments and thought that we would get half that, max) that I did it anyway. Yes, I figured the odds of a good offer would increase the more I showed the home. But I also did it because I know we're going to be on the other side, too. I want people to be kind to me and open their home to me when it's time for us to buy a home. It sounds simple but there are plenty of a-holes out there. Just recently we encountered a jerk of a realtor when looking at a home. Poor home owners, I don't know if they realize how much their realtor deterred folks from putting in an offer. (We were semi-serious but, due to our interaction with that realtor, decided to wait and look at what else is out there. Plus, we need to sell our home first to see how much we have to work with.)
Oh! And the families that checked out our home! I fell in love with three of them but liked just about everyone who viewed our house. I told The Man that I wish I had Oprah-money because everyone who came would get a house. "You get a house! And you get a house. And you two, you can have a house too!" There were a few who opened up at the end and said they had been looking for months. Or that this will be the sixth house they put a bid for. One adorable couple came back a half hour later, apologizing for the inconvenience (it was OK, though because I had a break between appointments) and asked what they could offer additionally to be a desirable bid. Were we interested in renting back while we looked? Were we looking at only cash? They really liked our home and wanted to be seriously considered. They looked nothing like us but The Man and I saw ourselves in them. They were us when we were looking at homes in 2009. That is, we thought they were younger versions of us because we remembered what it was like to be excited about a home and want to be home owners already. They wanted to start a family! They truly reminded us of us ... until the last couple came. Oh boy, did they remind us of us;)
The last couple was also very excited about our home and shared that they were expecting a baby in August. The husband was wearing his PG&E gear and apologized for being in his work clothes. The Man asked, "Are you an electrician?" to which the husband replied, "No, I work with gas." But The Man was still taken by this couple because this couple was exactly us in 2009. The husband is a blue collar worker and, like The Man, very respectful and a little on the quiet side. The pregnant wife looks nothing like me but I was two months pregnant when we looked at homes. The Man remembered wanting us to be all settled in before I gave birth. They were one of the families that shared they had been looking for a while and the wife jokingly but not jokingly said, "Yes, please consider us! This baby needs a home."
Well played, girlfriend. I would have said the exact same thing;)
When it comes down to it, we will of course take the best offer. But, my goodness, my heart goes out to all these families who just want a nice home in a nice neighborhood. The young families reminded us so much of ourselves and, I'm telling you, I wish I had the money to give out homes left and right because just about everyone was so very nice.
Here's praying and hoping for an outstanding offer. Then praying we, too, find a good next home.
Monday, February 18, 2013
It's starting...
Today we sign the listing agreement. The realtor will also take photos of our home to post when we list. It's funny. We got rid of quite a bit of clothes and some electronics to start the moving process. But we still have a bunch of stuff. To prepare for the photos today, we're playing, "hide the clutter" in order for our home look appealing!
I'm doing my best to trust all will work out. But here are the anxiety-ridden questions consuming in no particular order:
- Where do we hide all our valuables and important docs when we have to have an open house or show it? I don't want people snooping in our home or potential burglars casing out our home! (Paranoia that may or may not be influenced by recent events...I'm a worrier by nature.)
- How are we going to pack while make the house look show-ready? We can't!:(
- We still need to find an apartment to live in that will rent month to month. I hope this doesn't deplete our funds.
- Looking at what we can afford to buy that's in our budget. It's looking bleak. We knew we would have to downsize because we were looking to spend less money and move to a better school district. But even condos are not meeting our budget. This means looking into the boonies.
- I don't dislike the boonies but what about my parents? While they operate independently, they are slowing down a lot. They need help driving far distances and places unfamiliar to them, even if close by. Also, The Bun sees them at least twice a week. They will see her (and us) far less if we move an hour away. I worry about them. Feels like they're aging so fast now
- The particular boonies we are looking at is nice. But so far from family and friends. I'm a Bay Area girl to the bone. Born and raised. I love it here. But its looking like we can't afford it here.
- We're selling at a loss. But that's because it's the time to buy with prices and percentage rates being low. But it's also a buying frenzy. Bids are being declined because people have cash! What if we don't find anything nice we can afford? Or, the few times we do, we are outbid and then prices go up in the meantime? A fear - we sell at a loss yet are unable to buy while prices are low so they end up creeping back up so we end up SOL.
Well, I'm glad I got those aired out and out of the way. I hope! Want to know something sad? These are just the worries I have pertaining to our home. There are many others regarding trying to have another baby and what should I do with my career. Oh lawd. Anyway.
I pride myself in being a doer. With the exception of losing weight (my Achilles' heel!), I'm a woman of action. I hate being the person who complains but does nothing. It's a pet peeve. I joke at work that this is what makes me a great worker bee. I think that it's a great balance to the part of me that doesn't like change. This way, I'm not paralyzed by fear. But, as I've mentioned before, I'm uncomfortable with and somewhat scared of change. I'm trying to shift my frame of thinking and not be so anxious. That its OK to trust in God. Thats its GOOD to do this, in fact. Quite frankly, that I'm not being an idiot for not having a plan in place. See, that's a real issue for me. I fear that a lot. Or for being too daring, biting off more than I can chew and then it all blowing up in my face.
Trust, trust, trust. That's what I keep telling myself. I'm so scared but I'm wishing and praying I can turn it into excitement. Most times, I do! Above all, I have to remind myself this: I'm so thankful for my family. the Man is so wonderful. The Bun is an angel. She is truly heaven sent. Our little family are my heart and soul. My parents are the most supportive, generous and loving people I know. I want to do right by all of them.
I'm doing my best to trust all will work out. But here are the anxiety-ridden questions consuming in no particular order:
- Where do we hide all our valuables and important docs when we have to have an open house or show it? I don't want people snooping in our home or potential burglars casing out our home! (Paranoia that may or may not be influenced by recent events...I'm a worrier by nature.)
- How are we going to pack while make the house look show-ready? We can't!:(
- We still need to find an apartment to live in that will rent month to month. I hope this doesn't deplete our funds.
- Looking at what we can afford to buy that's in our budget. It's looking bleak. We knew we would have to downsize because we were looking to spend less money and move to a better school district. But even condos are not meeting our budget. This means looking into the boonies.
- I don't dislike the boonies but what about my parents? While they operate independently, they are slowing down a lot. They need help driving far distances and places unfamiliar to them, even if close by. Also, The Bun sees them at least twice a week. They will see her (and us) far less if we move an hour away. I worry about them. Feels like they're aging so fast now
- The particular boonies we are looking at is nice. But so far from family and friends. I'm a Bay Area girl to the bone. Born and raised. I love it here. But its looking like we can't afford it here.
- We're selling at a loss. But that's because it's the time to buy with prices and percentage rates being low. But it's also a buying frenzy. Bids are being declined because people have cash! What if we don't find anything nice we can afford? Or, the few times we do, we are outbid and then prices go up in the meantime? A fear - we sell at a loss yet are unable to buy while prices are low so they end up creeping back up so we end up SOL.
Well, I'm glad I got those aired out and out of the way. I hope! Want to know something sad? These are just the worries I have pertaining to our home. There are many others regarding trying to have another baby and what should I do with my career. Oh lawd. Anyway.
I pride myself in being a doer. With the exception of losing weight (my Achilles' heel!), I'm a woman of action. I hate being the person who complains but does nothing. It's a pet peeve. I joke at work that this is what makes me a great worker bee. I think that it's a great balance to the part of me that doesn't like change. This way, I'm not paralyzed by fear. But, as I've mentioned before, I'm uncomfortable with and somewhat scared of change. I'm trying to shift my frame of thinking and not be so anxious. That its OK to trust in God. Thats its GOOD to do this, in fact. Quite frankly, that I'm not being an idiot for not having a plan in place. See, that's a real issue for me. I fear that a lot. Or for being too daring, biting off more than I can chew and then it all blowing up in my face.
Trust, trust, trust. That's what I keep telling myself. I'm so scared but I'm wishing and praying I can turn it into excitement. Most times, I do! Above all, I have to remind myself this: I'm so thankful for my family. the Man is so wonderful. The Bun is an angel. She is truly heaven sent. Our little family are my heart and soul. My parents are the most supportive, generous and loving people I know. I want to do right by all of them.
Thursday, February 14, 2013
We're doing it
We're putting our house up for sale.
It's a scary decision. As I've mentioned time and time again, I don't like change. After having a baby, I find comfort in routine and schedule. Before, I didn't necessarily think change and risk were synonymous.
I miss that part of me.
Well, I'm out of my comfort zone. There's no real plan. We don't even have a place in place for when we sell the house because the current market doesn't favor bids that are contingent upon selling another house. Buyers offering money (even if its less than the asking price) are preferred because they're a sure thing versus people like us who need to sell our home in order to have money to buy. We will most likely have to move twice. Once to an apartment and then one more time when we find a home to buy. Of course, there are the other significant factors like extending offers to multiple homes because it will take a while before ours gets accepted. I wish our first bid to our first choice would be it but I don't know of that happening to anyone!
Ah, I remember how I fell in love with a home only to find out it just wasn't meant to be. I felt so silly to let an inanimate object break my heart!
But I'm trying to channel that old part of me who just did it and trusted all would fall into place. The person who welcomed and was even excited about change! I never ever saw myself as a "risk taker". I think the best way to describe that old me was a semi-high strung gal who went with the flow;) I hope to be this person again. I'm certainly working on it!
I also know that all of this is bigger than me. We can't ignore that this burglary feels like a sign. We had been talking for months about moving and how we wanted to eventually but The Man and I dreaded all the work that would go along with this huge decision. So we did nothing. Then we finally checked out a house for sale, just to see. But I don't think we would have done more. Then we had a home invasion.
I may not like change but we definitely got the hint.
We've been going to church and I've been so happy. We've been happy! It feels beyond good to have God in our lives and introducing God into The Bun's life. So I keep telling myself we have to trust in him. This burglary was undeniably a huge nudge for us and we are moving forward.
This is a very new adventure for us that I'm trying to view as exciting, not scary or cumbersome. Here we go!
It's a scary decision. As I've mentioned time and time again, I don't like change. After having a baby, I find comfort in routine and schedule. Before, I didn't necessarily think change and risk were synonymous.
I miss that part of me.
Well, I'm out of my comfort zone. There's no real plan. We don't even have a place in place for when we sell the house because the current market doesn't favor bids that are contingent upon selling another house. Buyers offering money (even if its less than the asking price) are preferred because they're a sure thing versus people like us who need to sell our home in order to have money to buy. We will most likely have to move twice. Once to an apartment and then one more time when we find a home to buy. Of course, there are the other significant factors like extending offers to multiple homes because it will take a while before ours gets accepted. I wish our first bid to our first choice would be it but I don't know of that happening to anyone!
Ah, I remember how I fell in love with a home only to find out it just wasn't meant to be. I felt so silly to let an inanimate object break my heart!
But I'm trying to channel that old part of me who just did it and trusted all would fall into place. The person who welcomed and was even excited about change! I never ever saw myself as a "risk taker". I think the best way to describe that old me was a semi-high strung gal who went with the flow;) I hope to be this person again. I'm certainly working on it!
I also know that all of this is bigger than me. We can't ignore that this burglary feels like a sign. We had been talking for months about moving and how we wanted to eventually but The Man and I dreaded all the work that would go along with this huge decision. So we did nothing. Then we finally checked out a house for sale, just to see. But I don't think we would have done more. Then we had a home invasion.
I may not like change but we definitely got the hint.
We've been going to church and I've been so happy. We've been happy! It feels beyond good to have God in our lives and introducing God into The Bun's life. So I keep telling myself we have to trust in him. This burglary was undeniably a huge nudge for us and we are moving forward.
This is a very new adventure for us that I'm trying to view as exciting, not scary or cumbersome. Here we go!
Tuesday, February 05, 2013
Burglarized
I'm not sure what to write. I know I don't want to go into great detail just because it's depressing.
Our house was burglarized yesterday afternoon. We have an alarm system, a very loud one at that, and two yappy dogs. But they still hit up our house.
I'm thankful they didn't hurt or kill our pups. I tell you, when The Man told me to come home immediately, I was so worried about our furry babies. Then, of course, are our belongings and memories. I'm thankful that, while our alarm didn't stop them from intruding, it did cause them to move fast and be in and out in two minutes. They took what they could shove into their pockets or bag and was easily carried while they jumped our fence.
Ironically, The Man and I have been talking about moving to another city because The Bun would be starting school next year. We contemplated staying in our current home and paying for private school or moving to be in a better school district. I was apprehensive about moving because, while our school district is the pits, we are blessed with a nice new home in a good neighborhood. If we were to move, we can only afford an older home that would need repairs. Plus, I've become more reserved when it comes to change.
It appears that we are being not-so-softly nudged into considering a new place to call home.
Our house was burglarized yesterday afternoon. We have an alarm system, a very loud one at that, and two yappy dogs. But they still hit up our house.
I'm thankful they didn't hurt or kill our pups. I tell you, when The Man told me to come home immediately, I was so worried about our furry babies. Then, of course, are our belongings and memories. I'm thankful that, while our alarm didn't stop them from intruding, it did cause them to move fast and be in and out in two minutes. They took what they could shove into their pockets or bag and was easily carried while they jumped our fence.
Ironically, The Man and I have been talking about moving to another city because The Bun would be starting school next year. We contemplated staying in our current home and paying for private school or moving to be in a better school district. I was apprehensive about moving because, while our school district is the pits, we are blessed with a nice new home in a good neighborhood. If we were to move, we can only afford an older home that would need repairs. Plus, I've become more reserved when it comes to change.
It appears that we are being not-so-softly nudged into considering a new place to call home.
Saturday, January 05, 2013
Monday, December 31, 2012
Starting a new New Year's Eve tradition
The Bun has slept in her own room since she was six weeks old. This is probably why we all (The Man, me and The Bun) sleep better ... This is what we're all accustomed to doing.
Side note: No, I'm not even going to touch the whole family bed versus own room debate, this is just what works well for us.
Anyhoo.
We decided that it would be a treat for The Bun and a nice way to ring in the New Year - sleeping together in our family/living room downstairs. We pulled out the sofa bed (which, by the way, is very comfy and we paid extra to make sure this was the case!) and made it up so we can ring in 2013 among all our Christmas decorations before we take them all down.
It's way more fun than it sounds. See?
Gone are the days of partying to ring in the new year. To be quite honest, it's been a very long time since I've done that. I know that my opinions can always change but I've found that I'm much more of a homebody and love being warm and ASLEEP. This is my perfect way of celebrating the new year:)
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Side note: No, I'm not even going to touch the whole family bed versus own room debate, this is just what works well for us.
Anyhoo.
We decided that it would be a treat for The Bun and a nice way to ring in the New Year - sleeping together in our family/living room downstairs. We pulled out the sofa bed (which, by the way, is very comfy and we paid extra to make sure this was the case!) and made it up so we can ring in 2013 among all our Christmas decorations before we take them all down.
It's way more fun than it sounds. See?
Gone are the days of partying to ring in the new year. To be quite honest, it's been a very long time since I've done that. I know that my opinions can always change but I've found that I'm much more of a homebody and love being warm and ASLEEP. This is my perfect way of celebrating the new year:)
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Friday, December 28, 2012
The most wonderful time of the year
December has been so busy. This year, especially. I felt like I could hardly enjoy it. And, for the first time, I really disliked how early the days got dark. But despite all my complaints (and aforementioned disappointments) my love for the holidays prevailed. It was wonderful. Here's why, in a snapshot. Well, more like several!
Birthday fun with a fellow Sagittarius:
Daddy's birthday dinner:
Visiting family in Clovis and admiring the Christmas lights:
The Bun's first time in a Debutante Ball:
Caroling for the first time:
The first Christmas in which The Bun appreciated and loved opening gifts!
As I post these photos, I realize that there were so many firsts this year. So many blessings this season. So much to be thankful for. And I am.
Birthday fun with a fellow Sagittarius:
Daddy's birthday dinner:
Visiting family in Clovis and admiring the Christmas lights:
The Bun's first time in a Debutante Ball:
Caroling for the first time:
The first Christmas in which The Bun appreciated and loved opening gifts!
As I post these photos, I realize that there were so many firsts this year. So many blessings this season. So much to be thankful for. And I am.
Thursday, December 13, 2012
It's been too long ...
... since I last wrote. I can't go into too many details but, basically, I've had a personal project going on for two months. I tried very hard to not let it affect my work and home life but I only succeeded in one so my home life suffered a bit. If it all shook out well, it would have been worth it in the long run.
But it didn't.
I'm so disappointed and don't think I have the energy, emotion and certainly time to start all over again. My family is most important. Not to mention my mental health:p
I'm thankful for all the other blessings I have in my life. I'm thankful my loved ones are still here and I've not suffered through deaths or devastating illnesses. I'm trying to maintain a positive perspective because I know there is so much good in my life.
But.
I'm so tired of being disappointed and feeling like a failure. I hate feeling second rate or just plain not good enough. I'm so tired of having to compromise my happiness and feeling of fulfillment for security.
Ready for the pity party? I received the news of said project's failure, MY failure, on my birthday. I stayed in bed and cried for most of the day.
See, it's not only about this particular project. It was the accumulation of all the many disappointments I've had this year. While I've also had many blessings, I was overwhelmed by just how many kicks to the groin (punches to the boob?) I've felt this year.
Ive prayed for patience. and understanding. i know better things are in store but when? Do I continue to try? I am usually a woman of action but I'm wondering if I'm supposed to wait for something to fall into lap. Not how I typically roll but I can't continue to do this. I'm exhausted putting forth all this effort to only be smacked down. Stick a fork in 2012. Please.
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But it didn't.
I'm so disappointed and don't think I have the energy, emotion and certainly time to start all over again. My family is most important. Not to mention my mental health:p
I'm thankful for all the other blessings I have in my life. I'm thankful my loved ones are still here and I've not suffered through deaths or devastating illnesses. I'm trying to maintain a positive perspective because I know there is so much good in my life.
But.
I'm so tired of being disappointed and feeling like a failure. I hate feeling second rate or just plain not good enough. I'm so tired of having to compromise my happiness and feeling of fulfillment for security.
Ready for the pity party? I received the news of said project's failure, MY failure, on my birthday. I stayed in bed and cried for most of the day.
See, it's not only about this particular project. It was the accumulation of all the many disappointments I've had this year. While I've also had many blessings, I was overwhelmed by just how many kicks to the groin (punches to the boob?) I've felt this year.
Ive prayed for patience. and understanding. i know better things are in store but when? Do I continue to try? I am usually a woman of action but I'm wondering if I'm supposed to wait for something to fall into lap. Not how I typically roll but I can't continue to do this. I'm exhausted putting forth all this effort to only be smacked down. Stick a fork in 2012. Please.
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Thursday, November 22, 2012
Monday, November 19, 2012
Thursday, October 11, 2012
What's getting me through the next month
I am IN THE WEEDS at the J-O-B. If I'm going to look for the silver lining, and we're talking looking real hard, being so swamped gives me very little time to dwell on personal things.
Happy to report that The Man, The Bun and I (The Mama:) are very good. Oh, and The Pups;)
I know I've complained about needing to tighten up the purse strings but, and I think I also mentioned this, I've said to hell with that this year. Between the emotional and physical issues this year as well as stress from the j-o-b, we all agreed that we can make this work. By we, I mean my village - My parents AKA The Bun's secondary care givers, hubby and me. It helped we also had those stipends from that effed up Hawaiian Airlines experience.
Truth be told, The Man needed some convincing. When we were in the thick of it the second time, he said we needed a vacation. This is a big deal because once we acquired more expenses like all that come with a home, he was less excited about vacations. In his job, he doesn't get PTO. So if he takes time off, he loses money. The Man sees it as a double loss - not only is he not getting paid but he's also paying for expenses incurred while on vacation. When I was at home and he was taking care of me, however, the sadness was palpable and I think he realized it would do us good to go on vacation.
Well, that was several weeks ago. Even though I was perusing possible places to stay, nothing fit in my very cheap budget. Except one. And it seemed like a very slim chance because it was through the military so first priority goes to active duty, second goes to retired. My dad (well, my mom on behalf of my dad) could only reserve a beach cottage two months in advance.
Let me stop for a second. The apple doesn't fall very far from the tree. My mom does NOT like to travel that way. This is a woman who plans months in advance. I being the apple and my mama being the tree am pretty much the same way. That's only eight weeks! But we decided to give it a try. With a very precise timeline, my mom called to reserve a cottage two months out from when I could travel. She was told that they don’t book for a holiday weekend so she would have to call back. She waited for two days and called at 5 AM, our time. They said that a cottage was available and we could book. What?!
I haven’t actually stayed there before so I can’t sing their praises just quite yet. I mean, I’ve got to experience it. But what is so great about them is that they are away from the bustle, on a military base and right on the beach. We’ve never been so I can’t say they’re perfect but, for our price, I’m going to say that they are pretty darn near perfect. For two bedroom cottage on the beach, we are paying $120/night. That means $60/night per couple. No frills, but it met all my requirements: clean, ground floor, two bedrooms, beach access.
When I went with my girlfriends and stayed in a condo, it was so nice being very close to the beach. When The Bun was tuckered out, I could go back to the condo and let her nap or just play indoors. Often times, I would hang out in the patio and she would just come out when she wanted attention. Because we were on the first floor, I had the luxury of having the family room (TV, couches and toys) right on the other side of the patio door. My daughter is not a wanderer, either, so I didn’t have to worry about her wanting to go in the kitchen, bedrooms or bathrooms. She just stuck around the family room or outside.
Anyway, once everything was booked, of course it was basically a reality. I swear, The Man SAW me looking online every night. He even helped with a condo search but found it too difficult to find everything that we were looking for that could even come close to the military cottage my mom found. But once the flights were booked and the cottages were reserved, The Man said something like, “Wait, what? I thought we were broke.” To which I replied, “You SAID we needed a vacation! You knew I was looking at flights and accommodations!” His retort? “When I said vacation, I meant Lake Tahoe!”
Now, I couldn't tell if he was serious or joking. I still can't. Seriously! But really, it’s too late. I’m looking forward to it. The Man admitted that he’s looking forward to being in Hawaii too. What he’s not looking forward to is the stress of traveling. I get it. My parents, specifically my mom, is pretty high-strung. He’s not looking forward to their bickering, the stress they cause me (I love them but they also can hit nerves no one else can … I think all family can, right?), the anxiety I already have from flying (I've had two horrific experiences so while I try to forget about them, I really can't) and of course the stress of flying with a three year old. Two hours of waiting, six hours of flight then another two hours or so to get our baggage, rental car and drive to the place we’re staying.
But that’s what Bloody Marys and Xanax are for, right? Well, I’ve never taken Xanax but I still have them from when I forgot to bring them on my last flight. And I think my need for some R&R trumps the inconvenience it takes to get there. And the dent it’s going to put in our savings. And while my mom and I can get on each other nerves, I'm honestly looking forward to being with them, too. Not only are they great and very helpful with The Bun, there really aren't that many opportunities for us to be together. Work obviously has me very busy during the weekdays and, on those weeknights, I'm too pooped to talk to anyone other than The Man & The Bun. Then the weekends just fly by. So I'm going to focus more on the good in that I'll be able to have some quality time with my folks, something kind of rare nowadays.
Plus, how can I dread anything that will result in me being here?
My body is nowhere near beach ready. I've got a ton of work deadlines prior to this trip. But I'm still really excited to be in one of my most favorite places and my fingers are crossed that Christmas decorations will be up. Because my absolute joy is seeing my favorite holiday's decorations up in one of my most favorite places with some of my very favorite people in the whole wide world. Now that's a lot of favorites right there;)
Happy to report that The Man, The Bun and I (The Mama:) are very good. Oh, and The Pups;)
I know I've complained about needing to tighten up the purse strings but, and I think I also mentioned this, I've said to hell with that this year. Between the emotional and physical issues this year as well as stress from the j-o-b, we all agreed that we can make this work. By we, I mean my village - My parents AKA The Bun's secondary care givers, hubby and me. It helped we also had those stipends from that effed up Hawaiian Airlines experience.
Truth be told, The Man needed some convincing. When we were in the thick of it the second time, he said we needed a vacation. This is a big deal because once we acquired more expenses like all that come with a home, he was less excited about vacations. In his job, he doesn't get PTO. So if he takes time off, he loses money. The Man sees it as a double loss - not only is he not getting paid but he's also paying for expenses incurred while on vacation. When I was at home and he was taking care of me, however, the sadness was palpable and I think he realized it would do us good to go on vacation.
Well, that was several weeks ago. Even though I was perusing possible places to stay, nothing fit in my very cheap budget. Except one. And it seemed like a very slim chance because it was through the military so first priority goes to active duty, second goes to retired. My dad (well, my mom on behalf of my dad) could only reserve a beach cottage two months in advance.
Let me stop for a second. The apple doesn't fall very far from the tree. My mom does NOT like to travel that way. This is a woman who plans months in advance. I being the apple and my mama being the tree am pretty much the same way. That's only eight weeks! But we decided to give it a try. With a very precise timeline, my mom called to reserve a cottage two months out from when I could travel. She was told that they don’t book for a holiday weekend so she would have to call back. She waited for two days and called at 5 AM, our time. They said that a cottage was available and we could book. What?!
I haven’t actually stayed there before so I can’t sing their praises just quite yet. I mean, I’ve got to experience it. But what is so great about them is that they are away from the bustle, on a military base and right on the beach. We’ve never been so I can’t say they’re perfect but, for our price, I’m going to say that they are pretty darn near perfect. For two bedroom cottage on the beach, we are paying $120/night. That means $60/night per couple. No frills, but it met all my requirements: clean, ground floor, two bedrooms, beach access.
When I went with my girlfriends and stayed in a condo, it was so nice being very close to the beach. When The Bun was tuckered out, I could go back to the condo and let her nap or just play indoors. Often times, I would hang out in the patio and she would just come out when she wanted attention. Because we were on the first floor, I had the luxury of having the family room (TV, couches and toys) right on the other side of the patio door. My daughter is not a wanderer, either, so I didn’t have to worry about her wanting to go in the kitchen, bedrooms or bathrooms. She just stuck around the family room or outside.
Anyway, once everything was booked, of course it was basically a reality. I swear, The Man SAW me looking online every night. He even helped with a condo search but found it too difficult to find everything that we were looking for that could even come close to the military cottage my mom found. But once the flights were booked and the cottages were reserved, The Man said something like, “Wait, what? I thought we were broke.” To which I replied, “You SAID we needed a vacation! You knew I was looking at flights and accommodations!” His retort? “When I said vacation, I meant Lake Tahoe!”
Now, I couldn't tell if he was serious or joking. I still can't. Seriously! But really, it’s too late. I’m looking forward to it. The Man admitted that he’s looking forward to being in Hawaii too. What he’s not looking forward to is the stress of traveling. I get it. My parents, specifically my mom, is pretty high-strung. He’s not looking forward to their bickering, the stress they cause me (I love them but they also can hit nerves no one else can … I think all family can, right?), the anxiety I already have from flying (I've had two horrific experiences so while I try to forget about them, I really can't) and of course the stress of flying with a three year old. Two hours of waiting, six hours of flight then another two hours or so to get our baggage, rental car and drive to the place we’re staying.
But that’s what Bloody Marys and Xanax are for, right? Well, I’ve never taken Xanax but I still have them from when I forgot to bring them on my last flight. And I think my need for some R&R trumps the inconvenience it takes to get there. And the dent it’s going to put in our savings. And while my mom and I can get on each other nerves, I'm honestly looking forward to being with them, too. Not only are they great and very helpful with The Bun, there really aren't that many opportunities for us to be together. Work obviously has me very busy during the weekdays and, on those weeknights, I'm too pooped to talk to anyone other than The Man & The Bun. Then the weekends just fly by. So I'm going to focus more on the good in that I'll be able to have some quality time with my folks, something kind of rare nowadays.
Plus, how can I dread anything that will result in me being here?
Wednesday, October 03, 2012
Been so busy
Haven't had time to blog. I had planned to do an update and an unfinished entry is sitting in my Drafts. I was going to write about the j-o-b, family and other stuff. My life has picked up pretty much seamlessly after all the hullabaloo.
But my HCG levels haven't gone down to zero, even though its been six weeks. And I have these pelvic cramps that won't go away. A friend suggested I was ovulating. But I've been cramping for a week now. Finally saw the doctor after speaking with the Kaiser Advice Line twice.
A little scared because I have lively imagination. Hope this pain goes away. Along with the remaining pregnancy tissue.
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But my HCG levels haven't gone down to zero, even though its been six weeks. And I have these pelvic cramps that won't go away. A friend suggested I was ovulating. But I've been cramping for a week now. Finally saw the doctor after speaking with the Kaiser Advice Line twice.
A little scared because I have lively imagination. Hope this pain goes away. Along with the remaining pregnancy tissue.
- Posted using BlogPress via iPhone
Monday, September 03, 2012
The Methotrexate Monologues
Today, I woke up with the same pain I felt the day I needed surgery (but didn't know it yet). I wasn't bleeding but I was very worried that something was wrong and I would need surgery again. God forbid if they had to reopen my scars.
How awful would that be?
I called the Kaiser Advice Line again hoping they would shed some light and tell me that there was nothing to worry about. After a series of questions, the nurse admitted not being too familiar with methotrexate. She read me the same information I was given on Friday but that didn't address the pain and if I was having a bad reaction to the medication. She put me on hold so she could confer with the OB-GYN on call.
When the nurse got back on the line, she said that the doctor wasn't worried. I wasn't bleeding, I didn't have a fever and my wounds weren't infected. (Thank goodness for that, ugh.) I was having strong abdominal pain because the methotrexate was doing its job.
I had forgotten that way back when the doctors were talking to me about surgery versus methotrexate, I had learned that one of the downfalls to taking the medication was that it simulated a miscarriage. How could I forget that?
Having a D & C and, most recently, surgery, that was something I hadn't experienced yet - going through a natural miscarriage. While this isn't truly natural, the physical experience, according to my doctor, is very similar if not the same.
I'm trying so hard not to wallow in self-pity. I know there are women who have suffered far more than I and that there are far worse situations in this world. To just about everyone, I've been upbeat and not been nearly as negative about all of this as I have on this blog. I have been very matter-a-fact at work and jumped right back into the j-o-b.
But if I don't release it somewhere, all my anger, frustration and sadness, I think I'll explode. Worse, at a completely inappropriate place like work.
So forgive the wallowing (or not) but I'm so angry and upset that I've had two miscarriages in four months and that the last one comes with the two-for-one bonus of surgery AND the physical pain of going through a miscarriage naturally.
It just doesn't seem to ever end. Go away, already.
How awful would that be?
I called the Kaiser Advice Line again hoping they would shed some light and tell me that there was nothing to worry about. After a series of questions, the nurse admitted not being too familiar with methotrexate. She read me the same information I was given on Friday but that didn't address the pain and if I was having a bad reaction to the medication. She put me on hold so she could confer with the OB-GYN on call.
When the nurse got back on the line, she said that the doctor wasn't worried. I wasn't bleeding, I didn't have a fever and my wounds weren't infected. (Thank goodness for that, ugh.) I was having strong abdominal pain because the methotrexate was doing its job.
I had forgotten that way back when the doctors were talking to me about surgery versus methotrexate, I had learned that one of the downfalls to taking the medication was that it simulated a miscarriage. How could I forget that?
Having a D & C and, most recently, surgery, that was something I hadn't experienced yet - going through a natural miscarriage. While this isn't truly natural, the physical experience, according to my doctor, is very similar if not the same.
I'm trying so hard not to wallow in self-pity. I know there are women who have suffered far more than I and that there are far worse situations in this world. To just about everyone, I've been upbeat and not been nearly as negative about all of this as I have on this blog. I have been very matter-a-fact at work and jumped right back into the j-o-b.
But if I don't release it somewhere, all my anger, frustration and sadness, I think I'll explode. Worse, at a completely inappropriate place like work.
So forgive the wallowing (or not) but I'm so angry and upset that I've had two miscarriages in four months and that the last one comes with the two-for-one bonus of surgery AND the physical pain of going through a miscarriage naturally.
It just doesn't seem to ever end. Go away, already.
Saturday, September 01, 2012
Like a punk ass, I'm angry
Yesterday, I received a call. I saw on my caller ID that it was my doctor. I had done lab work twice since the surgery and knew he was calling me to tell me I was in the clear. I was slammed at work because I was still catching up from the six days I missed and also because it is THE busiest time of the year, work-wise. I thought about sending him to voicemail but then thought, heck, this guy cut me up, I should be respectful and answer his call. So I picked it up.
I should have known better and taken the call in privacy, not in cubicle land at work.
After asking me how I was feeling and I guess a little surprised that I said I was fine (this should have tipped me off) he said he was sorry to tell me that while the first lab tests were fine, my more recent results showed a presence of pregnancy hormones. This meant that there was still viable pregnancy tissue, not to be confused with a viable pregnancy (because that's laughable when it concerns my body - yes, bitter sarcasm right there). This pregnancy tissue in my Fallopian tube will grow and cause damage. I needed to come in to the hospital to take methotrexate. Yes, the drug I had a choice of taking in lieu of the surgery but, oh goodie, I get to take it anyway.
Folks, I am not a workaholic. But I was tired of this FUCKING ABNORMAL PREGNANCY THAT WILL NOT GO AWAY affecting my life. All of this and no baby in the end. Wouldn't you be fucking sick and tired?
I had back-to-back appointments all day, the last one being roughly an hour away from home. I asked the doctor if I could get medicine administered in the evening.
"No, unfortunately the lab can't do it, it has to be administered by a doctor or nurse."
"Can I come in tomorrow or sometime in the weekend?" I asked.
"Our offices aren't open and it's important you get this done right away. I'm calling you two days after your lab work so your levels have most likely increased."
Well, shit. So I said, "Can I come Tuesday? I have really important meetings today that I can't miss."
I know, I sounded like an asshole but the meeting in South San Francisco was a catered reception specifically scheduled, then rescheduled, so I could attend and make a presentation.
My irritated doctor responded, "We're talking about your health here."
Shit, shit, shit.
I agreed and told him I would cancel the meeting and work on getting there early this afternoon. Before you think he's the most awesome person for thinking about my health when I clearly am too mad and lame to do so, let me share how the rest of the day goes.
I only shedded a few tears at my cube. I still had to pull it together for a morning meeting and I was bringing along my intern. On my way to that meeting, I made a call to my afternoon appointment to let them know I had a medical complication that needed immediate attention. I was very apologetic. They really want a rep to be there. I then called and pleaded with my boss to see if she could go. She knew the entire situation so she moved her day around to help. After my first meeting, it was already the afternoon. I dropped of my intern back at work and then emotionally fell apart and tearfully called The Man to see if he could come with me. He was off work but I hadn't called him about any of this until I was on my way to the hospital. I meant it when I said work was crazy busy.
I picked up The Man and then headed to the hospital. I followed my doctor's orders to go to the lab first. Miracle of miracles, there was no one waiting. Seriously, I've never seen it like this. I thought to myself, what a small perk to a cruddy day. We were out of there within minutes. Then I went to my doctor's station (if you have Kaiser, you know what mean.) The receptionist was perplexed by my presence because I wasn't on the schedule. I let her know my doctor had called me earlier in the morning and insisted I needed to come in. Still a blank face. But she called his nurse to get it straightened out. His nurse came out a few minutes later to let me know there is a specific area with a nurse who administered the methotrexate.
We walked to a different station, checked in and waited.
The nurse came out 15 minutes later and apologized. "I'm waiting on the pharmacy to bring up the medication. Because they have to mix it, it could take 15 minutes to a half hour."
We waited. For 45 minutes. I kid you not when I went to the receptionist to ask how much longer and she exclaimed, "You're still here?!"
An hour and forty-five minutes later (What. The. Fuck.), the nurse called my name and then profusely apologized. She said that the medication was finally ready. I knew it wasn't her fault. Her office was supposed to close at 4:00 and it was already 5:15 PM. I told her I didn't blame her to which she replied, "Blame Dr. Young. He was supposed to call this in to the pharmacy. He knows the protocol."
I was surprised by this. "But I told him I was on my way four hours ago."
"He called me to let me know," she responded, "but he's the only who has to call it into the pharmacy because of the type of medication it is and he never did. The pharmacy was confused when I called to find out the status and we had to wait for them to get in touch with Dr. Young before they could make it. It can take up to a couple of hours to make this so that's why you waited such a long time rather than it being done by the time you got here."
Fucking Dr. Young. (I know I'm swearing far more in this post than I ever have before. But I'm telling you, I'm angry.)
I won't lie, I'm no toughie and my tolerance for pain is pretty low. But when she stuck the big needle in my right hip, I cried out loud and jerked. That shit hurt bad. Then it burned. I cried because of the pain. I cried because I was also still dealing with a bullshit pregnancy that wasn't a real pregnancy. I was angry because I was still getting hurt for something that would never be. And I was so so mad about it all.
The second shot didn't hurt as bad but I think I worried the nurse from my first reaction. She asked me of I had ever taken methotrexate. I told her no.
"I'm so sorry to ask you this, especially after you've waited for so long. But I want to make sure you don't have a reaction. Can you stay for 15 more minutes?"
Sure. Why the fuck not. We had already been there for 2 1/2 hours.
I left the room and The Man looked worried because of my tears. He asked if it hurt and I said yes. I sat down and we held hands. A few minutes later,he said, "I understand if you don't want to try anymore. I know you said not this year but you would want to try next year. I understand if you changed your mind."
I just don't know about any of this anymore.
- Posted using BlogPress via iPhone
I should have known better and taken the call in privacy, not in cubicle land at work.
After asking me how I was feeling and I guess a little surprised that I said I was fine (this should have tipped me off) he said he was sorry to tell me that while the first lab tests were fine, my more recent results showed a presence of pregnancy hormones. This meant that there was still viable pregnancy tissue, not to be confused with a viable pregnancy (because that's laughable when it concerns my body - yes, bitter sarcasm right there). This pregnancy tissue in my Fallopian tube will grow and cause damage. I needed to come in to the hospital to take methotrexate. Yes, the drug I had a choice of taking in lieu of the surgery but, oh goodie, I get to take it anyway.
Folks, I am not a workaholic. But I was tired of this FUCKING ABNORMAL PREGNANCY THAT WILL NOT GO AWAY affecting my life. All of this and no baby in the end. Wouldn't you be fucking sick and tired?
I had back-to-back appointments all day, the last one being roughly an hour away from home. I asked the doctor if I could get medicine administered in the evening.
"No, unfortunately the lab can't do it, it has to be administered by a doctor or nurse."
"Can I come in tomorrow or sometime in the weekend?" I asked.
"Our offices aren't open and it's important you get this done right away. I'm calling you two days after your lab work so your levels have most likely increased."
Well, shit. So I said, "Can I come Tuesday? I have really important meetings today that I can't miss."
I know, I sounded like an asshole but the meeting in South San Francisco was a catered reception specifically scheduled, then rescheduled, so I could attend and make a presentation.
My irritated doctor responded, "We're talking about your health here."
Shit, shit, shit.
I agreed and told him I would cancel the meeting and work on getting there early this afternoon. Before you think he's the most awesome person for thinking about my health when I clearly am too mad and lame to do so, let me share how the rest of the day goes.
I only shedded a few tears at my cube. I still had to pull it together for a morning meeting and I was bringing along my intern. On my way to that meeting, I made a call to my afternoon appointment to let them know I had a medical complication that needed immediate attention. I was very apologetic. They really want a rep to be there. I then called and pleaded with my boss to see if she could go. She knew the entire situation so she moved her day around to help. After my first meeting, it was already the afternoon. I dropped of my intern back at work and then emotionally fell apart and tearfully called The Man to see if he could come with me. He was off work but I hadn't called him about any of this until I was on my way to the hospital. I meant it when I said work was crazy busy.
I picked up The Man and then headed to the hospital. I followed my doctor's orders to go to the lab first. Miracle of miracles, there was no one waiting. Seriously, I've never seen it like this. I thought to myself, what a small perk to a cruddy day. We were out of there within minutes. Then I went to my doctor's station (if you have Kaiser, you know what mean.) The receptionist was perplexed by my presence because I wasn't on the schedule. I let her know my doctor had called me earlier in the morning and insisted I needed to come in. Still a blank face. But she called his nurse to get it straightened out. His nurse came out a few minutes later to let me know there is a specific area with a nurse who administered the methotrexate.
We walked to a different station, checked in and waited.
The nurse came out 15 minutes later and apologized. "I'm waiting on the pharmacy to bring up the medication. Because they have to mix it, it could take 15 minutes to a half hour."
We waited. For 45 minutes. I kid you not when I went to the receptionist to ask how much longer and she exclaimed, "You're still here?!"
An hour and forty-five minutes later (What. The. Fuck.), the nurse called my name and then profusely apologized. She said that the medication was finally ready. I knew it wasn't her fault. Her office was supposed to close at 4:00 and it was already 5:15 PM. I told her I didn't blame her to which she replied, "Blame Dr. Young. He was supposed to call this in to the pharmacy. He knows the protocol."
I was surprised by this. "But I told him I was on my way four hours ago."
"He called me to let me know," she responded, "but he's the only who has to call it into the pharmacy because of the type of medication it is and he never did. The pharmacy was confused when I called to find out the status and we had to wait for them to get in touch with Dr. Young before they could make it. It can take up to a couple of hours to make this so that's why you waited such a long time rather than it being done by the time you got here."
Fucking Dr. Young. (I know I'm swearing far more in this post than I ever have before. But I'm telling you, I'm angry.)
I won't lie, I'm no toughie and my tolerance for pain is pretty low. But when she stuck the big needle in my right hip, I cried out loud and jerked. That shit hurt bad. Then it burned. I cried because of the pain. I cried because I was also still dealing with a bullshit pregnancy that wasn't a real pregnancy. I was angry because I was still getting hurt for something that would never be. And I was so so mad about it all.
The second shot didn't hurt as bad but I think I worried the nurse from my first reaction. She asked me of I had ever taken methotrexate. I told her no.
"I'm so sorry to ask you this, especially after you've waited for so long. But I want to make sure you don't have a reaction. Can you stay for 15 more minutes?"
Sure. Why the fuck not. We had already been there for 2 1/2 hours.
I left the room and The Man looked worried because of my tears. He asked if it hurt and I said yes. I sat down and we held hands. A few minutes later,he said, "I understand if you don't want to try anymore. I know you said not this year but you would want to try next year. I understand if you changed your mind."
I just don't know about any of this anymore.
- Posted using BlogPress via iPhone
Sunday, August 26, 2012
I've decided
I'm not going to beat around the bush if people at work (or volunteers) ask me why I was gone last week.
I realize that this will probably make people feel uncomfortable. And probably a little guilty for asking. But that's not why I'm doing it. I'm going to tell them, "I had a miscarriage which resulted in surgery" because I have nothing to be ashamed of. If I had a heart attack, stroke or accident, it wouldn't be any different.
I think it's fair to let people know so that a) they know why I'm taking it a little easy, physically and b) that I wasn't on some fantastic vacation during the busiest time of my job. OK, part of me is so that once I answer their question with a very honest and frank answer, the subject is abruptly closed. If this wasn't my busiest time of year, I would probably take two weeks off. But I can't. And, according to the handy directions (four pages long, mind you) given by my doctor, it is advised that I try to go back to normal as soon as possible. So, tomorrrow, I go back to work.
Yes, it's personal and again, will probably make people uncomfortable. While I won't share this piece of information, this was my second miscarriage in four months. I'll be honest, I'm traumatized. I try to be very matter-of-fact about it and, most times, I convince myself that it's clinical, above all else.
But there are moments, these moments that I have, in which the overwhelming sadness takes hold of me and I tear up. I know I'm blessed, absolutely blessed, to have the beautiful daughter that I have and the life that I lead. And I swear, I tell myself that every day. But sometimes that damn sadness takes over even though I try my hardest to silence those thoughts, they come anyway.
So why not be honest about what happened?
I realize that this will probably make people feel uncomfortable. And probably a little guilty for asking. But that's not why I'm doing it. I'm going to tell them, "I had a miscarriage which resulted in surgery" because I have nothing to be ashamed of. If I had a heart attack, stroke or accident, it wouldn't be any different.
I think it's fair to let people know so that a) they know why I'm taking it a little easy, physically and b) that I wasn't on some fantastic vacation during the busiest time of my job. OK, part of me is so that once I answer their question with a very honest and frank answer, the subject is abruptly closed. If this wasn't my busiest time of year, I would probably take two weeks off. But I can't. And, according to the handy directions (four pages long, mind you) given by my doctor, it is advised that I try to go back to normal as soon as possible. So, tomorrrow, I go back to work.
Yes, it's personal and again, will probably make people uncomfortable. While I won't share this piece of information, this was my second miscarriage in four months. I'll be honest, I'm traumatized. I try to be very matter-of-fact about it and, most times, I convince myself that it's clinical, above all else.
But there are moments, these moments that I have, in which the overwhelming sadness takes hold of me and I tear up. I know I'm blessed, absolutely blessed, to have the beautiful daughter that I have and the life that I lead. And I swear, I tell myself that every day. But sometimes that damn sadness takes over even though I try my hardest to silence those thoughts, they come anyway.
So why not be honest about what happened?
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Post Haze - Day 1
While there is definitely still pain, the Vicodin is affecting me more negatively than positively.
I find the haziness beneficial because it kind of makes me void of emotion. Unfortunately, it also brings me to the brink of sleep and then yanks me back. Every time. I wake up every two hours, rendering me pretty useless awake or asleep. Another side affect is that I'm seriously constipated. No go, amigo. Even with a generous amount of prune juice.
Since Vicodin takes away most pain, I've had to replace it with an arsenal of alternatives:
I have Ibuprofen, GasX, throat spray (sore from the breathing tube) and good old prune juice.
According to my post surgery directions, I also have to walk to get my bowels active and the shoulder pain (from air pumped into my stomach) to dissipate. So I'm walking extremely slow for 20 minutes, three times a day. All while taking shots of prune juice.
- Posted using BlogPress via iPhone
I find the haziness beneficial because it kind of makes me void of emotion. Unfortunately, it also brings me to the brink of sleep and then yanks me back. Every time. I wake up every two hours, rendering me pretty useless awake or asleep. Another side affect is that I'm seriously constipated. No go, amigo. Even with a generous amount of prune juice.
Since Vicodin takes away most pain, I've had to replace it with an arsenal of alternatives:
According to my post surgery directions, I also have to walk to get my bowels active and the shoulder pain (from air pumped into my stomach) to dissipate. So I'm walking extremely slow for 20 minutes, three times a day. All while taking shots of prune juice.
- Posted using BlogPress via iPhone
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
In a Vicodin haze
After a much needed and appreciated beautiful day with my little family, I woke up Monday morning ready for the week. 5:00 AM, to be exact. I woke up with The Man and just decided to start my day rather than try to get an extra 45 minutes in.
Around 6:30 AM, I started to get really bad cramps. By the time The Bun woke up, I was in tears. I've been constipated before (due to pregnancy) but this was a whole new level. It was so bad that I called my parents to see if they could come over to take care of The Bun while I worked it out. Thank goodness, my mom said they would be right over.
She's the one who suspected something much more serious. I had been moded before about this - going to the doctor thinking it was something else and finding out it was just constipation. Luckily, though, my mom can be very persuasive. She convinced me to let my Dad take me to the hospital while she took care of The Bun. Even if it was just constipation, I could at least get medication for it.
Long story short, I was diagnosed with an ectopic pregnancy. I was told I should have surgery the same day because of the pain and bleeding. My Fallopian tube could rupture and then I would be in serious trouble. I asked and received a second opinion. Same response. I called The Man but his work phone was off. Crying harder at the thought that he wouldn't come in time, I requested an operator to notify his supervisor to have him contact me. He came home immediately. He said the minute his boss told him I was looking for him, he knew I was having a miscarriage.
I had the surgery in the afternoon. The paperwork they had me sign prior to the surgery was scary. Risk of having to remove my tube if the mass was too big. Risk of re-opening my c-section scar if there were complications. Thankfully, no complications.
I am, however, emotionally and physically drained. The doctor also told me that I have a higher chance of another ectopic pregnancy because I now have a history. I think it's a 20% chance. Shit. For certain, we are done trying to have another baby this year. The Man said that we don't have to try again because he doesn't want me to go through this a third time. My mom thinks that I should stop trying because it's a lot to put on my body. I don't know. Maybe we are done, period. The Man says adoption is a consideration but I can't wrap my head around that quite yet.
The one good thing about the pain (and yes, it is far more painful than my D&C) is that, between the discomfort and the Vicodin, I don't want to cry. I'm pretty removed from the emotional pain. Maybe that will return when the physical pain goes away but I'm going to be thankful for its absence in the meantime.
Around 6:30 AM, I started to get really bad cramps. By the time The Bun woke up, I was in tears. I've been constipated before (due to pregnancy) but this was a whole new level. It was so bad that I called my parents to see if they could come over to take care of The Bun while I worked it out. Thank goodness, my mom said they would be right over.
She's the one who suspected something much more serious. I had been moded before about this - going to the doctor thinking it was something else and finding out it was just constipation. Luckily, though, my mom can be very persuasive. She convinced me to let my Dad take me to the hospital while she took care of The Bun. Even if it was just constipation, I could at least get medication for it.
Long story short, I was diagnosed with an ectopic pregnancy. I was told I should have surgery the same day because of the pain and bleeding. My Fallopian tube could rupture and then I would be in serious trouble. I asked and received a second opinion. Same response. I called The Man but his work phone was off. Crying harder at the thought that he wouldn't come in time, I requested an operator to notify his supervisor to have him contact me. He came home immediately. He said the minute his boss told him I was looking for him, he knew I was having a miscarriage.
I had the surgery in the afternoon. The paperwork they had me sign prior to the surgery was scary. Risk of having to remove my tube if the mass was too big. Risk of re-opening my c-section scar if there were complications. Thankfully, no complications.
I am, however, emotionally and physically drained. The doctor also told me that I have a higher chance of another ectopic pregnancy because I now have a history. I think it's a 20% chance. Shit. For certain, we are done trying to have another baby this year. The Man said that we don't have to try again because he doesn't want me to go through this a third time. My mom thinks that I should stop trying because it's a lot to put on my body. I don't know. Maybe we are done, period. The Man says adoption is a consideration but I can't wrap my head around that quite yet.
The one good thing about the pain (and yes, it is far more painful than my D&C) is that, between the discomfort and the Vicodin, I don't want to cry. I'm pretty removed from the emotional pain. Maybe that will return when the physical pain goes away but I'm going to be thankful for its absence in the meantime.
Friday, August 17, 2012
I'd love to say it ends well ...
but I'm pretty sure it doesn't.
I'd like to believe I'm not superstitious. I believe in God and faith doesn't exactly go hand and hand with being superstitious. When I took this test, I thought about the first time and how everything ended up OK. That was when I told The Man in a very unromantic, unceremonious way that I was pregnant. The second time I took this test, I decided I was going to be creative, loving and sweet in my approach. I wrapped up the test in a little box along with scantily yet tastefully photos of his wife. He first saw the photos, then opened the box. I joked after he saw the test that he better remember when his wife's body saw better times because it was going to go through the ringer again. Although I'm glad I was able to tell him in such a fun way, the pregnancy ended much too quickly.
So here I was, a month late when I decided to take a test. Yes, a month. I knew I was being irrational but I wanted to delay knowing as long as possible. I had already been taking prenatal pills and when I suspected I was late, I laid off the alcohol. But I delayed taking the test because I almost didn't want to know. The doctors don't see a person (unless there are complications) until she is at least two months along. I didn't want to be anxious in the interim because nothing can be done until then.
But after a month, I figured I should just do it. So I did:
I was so nervous because the last time I had been down this road, it ended badly. Remembering how the first time versus the second time went, I practically tossed this on the bed next to The Man and nonchalantly said, "So, I guess this settles it" or something to that effect. Just like the first time, he didn't even know I had taken it. He replied, "Really? So you're pregnant?" And I nodded. He leans over, gives me a hug and kiss and says, "I love you" and " ... good luck", with a concerned look. I mean, it's really all one can say.
A week later, I started to bleed. It started as spotting and then it got heavier, like a period. So this past Wednesday, I saw the doctor. Excluding the blood, it was like deja vu.
"Well, you could be really early but I don't see anything yet." No flutter. Not like the first time. Much like the second. But, again, the doctor said I could just be really early. I wasn't going to fall for that false hope again. I was then asked to go to the lab the next day, then possibly the weekend and then see my doctor the following week.
The part that broke my heart, though, the question I was surprised would bring tears to my eyes, was when the doctor asked, "How many pregnancies have you had, including this one?"
"Three."
Three pregnancies. One child. I'm not the greatest at math but it doesn't add up. How could I be pregnant three times and only have one child?
How many more times do I want to put myself through this before I'm done? And, just like last time, they can't tell me that there is no baby until they do more tests. I tried so hard to harden myself before attempting this again. But no amount of mental preparation is enough to overpower the overwhelming defeat I feel that I can't seem to get past being a one-hit wonder.
I feel so blessed to even have one child. But I didn't know it would be impossible to have more. Why?
So here I am, waiting again to hear back on my lab results and while I'm expecting bad news, they still won't give me a definite answer until I see my doctor next week. So I wait and I wait.
I'd like to believe I'm not superstitious. I believe in God and faith doesn't exactly go hand and hand with being superstitious. When I took this test, I thought about the first time and how everything ended up OK. That was when I told The Man in a very unromantic, unceremonious way that I was pregnant. The second time I took this test, I decided I was going to be creative, loving and sweet in my approach. I wrapped up the test in a little box along with scantily yet tastefully photos of his wife. He first saw the photos, then opened the box. I joked after he saw the test that he better remember when his wife's body saw better times because it was going to go through the ringer again. Although I'm glad I was able to tell him in such a fun way, the pregnancy ended much too quickly.
So here I was, a month late when I decided to take a test. Yes, a month. I knew I was being irrational but I wanted to delay knowing as long as possible. I had already been taking prenatal pills and when I suspected I was late, I laid off the alcohol. But I delayed taking the test because I almost didn't want to know. The doctors don't see a person (unless there are complications) until she is at least two months along. I didn't want to be anxious in the interim because nothing can be done until then.
But after a month, I figured I should just do it. So I did:
A week later, I started to bleed. It started as spotting and then it got heavier, like a period. So this past Wednesday, I saw the doctor. Excluding the blood, it was like deja vu.
"Well, you could be really early but I don't see anything yet." No flutter. Not like the first time. Much like the second. But, again, the doctor said I could just be really early. I wasn't going to fall for that false hope again. I was then asked to go to the lab the next day, then possibly the weekend and then see my doctor the following week.
The part that broke my heart, though, the question I was surprised would bring tears to my eyes, was when the doctor asked, "How many pregnancies have you had, including this one?"
"Three."
Three pregnancies. One child. I'm not the greatest at math but it doesn't add up. How could I be pregnant three times and only have one child?
How many more times do I want to put myself through this before I'm done? And, just like last time, they can't tell me that there is no baby until they do more tests. I tried so hard to harden myself before attempting this again. But no amount of mental preparation is enough to overpower the overwhelming defeat I feel that I can't seem to get past being a one-hit wonder.
I feel so blessed to even have one child. But I didn't know it would be impossible to have more. Why?
So here I am, waiting again to hear back on my lab results and while I'm expecting bad news, they still won't give me a definite answer until I see my doctor next week. So I wait and I wait.
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