Posts Tagged ‘Childfree’

The surgery

January 30, 2008

I know it’s been almost two months since my surgery, and I know I said in my comments that I was going to post about it “in a day or two,” but I’ve become addicted to a video game and like any good obsession, it requires all of my free time. I’m getting this entry over with, because I’ve got some other stuff that needs addressed, but I feel like I should get this out first.

So, the morning of my surgery we got up at the ass crack of dawn to drive up to BG. I was excited and nervous, mostly nervous, and mostly about having an I.V. I don’t do needles.

We got there and did the check-in thing, the paperwork, the clothing itemization, all that jazz. Eventually got to my little curtained-off area, changed into my stylish gown, got the I.V.

Not the ordeal I had imagined it would be, but I really wish they’d taken the juice out of the fridge sooner. My arm was ice cold in a very short time, and it sucked. We asked for another blanket for my block o’ ice, and got one that was all nice and warmed up.

At some point I talked to the anesthesiologist and some other people, including my doctor (sorry, details are fuzzy this far down the road). Then it was time!

They wheeled me to the operating room and starting giving me the gas. The last thing I remember thinking is, “Uh, shouldn’t this mask be on better? It seems like the gas is escaping. I don’t smell anything. I don’t think this is working.”

Then I woke up (slowly) in recovery. Very surreal. I’d never been totally under for anything before.

I think maybe I threw up in recovery, but I can’t remember anymore. They wheeled me back to my little area, Dave came back, and we hung out waiting for me to lose the fog so we could go home.

I was a little nauseous, so they brought me a regular Coke (I always thought Sprite or 7-Up was good for the nausea?). I know I threw up there. I think maybe I went to the bathroom at some point, and then we headed for home. They sent the little puke basin with us, along with a box of Kleenex.

I did not throw up in the car, but I did throw up on the front lawn, and into my little basin as I walked in the front door. Rusty thought that was hugely exciting.

And then I slept a lot of the day away. I think I had a ham sandwich very late that night. And some Pringles. I lived on Coke, ham sandwiches and Pringles for a few days. And lost a few pounds. I should have stuck with that diet!

I figured out sometime that weekend that taking two Vicodin at a time was making me nauseous, so I cut it back to one. Much better.

For the next week I sat on my butt on the couch in my pajamas, just as I had planned. The problem was I was bored out of my skull, so that Tuesday night I made Dave go buy me a game for the Wii. I’d done my research, and called to make sure Best Buy had it, so I was all set. That’s the game responsible for my absence. Puzzle Quest: Challenge of the Warlords. I love it.

When I went back to work, my belly button did not like my wearing actual pants, but it’s better now. (One incision was through my belly button, I guess I should tell you that, huh?)

So, not really any complications. It did hurt to laugh even around Christmas, or to turn just my upper body, but that’s all gone too.

So, hurray!


Early Christmas gift

December 6, 2007

*Warning: Much talk of girly parts ahead.*

Friday, tomorrow, is the big day.

I’m getting my tubes tied.

It’s taken many months to get to this point. I told my nurse, whom I adore, at my annual exam in April that Dave & I don’t want kids and wanted to ensure that we stay DINKs. Soon after, I met with my doctor about the Essure procedure and got it scheduled for May.

No one hassled me, no one questioned me. It seemed too easy. I should have known something would happen.

That something was a perforated uterus and a quick exit by the doctor and (surprise) intern. I wasn’t totally sure what had even happened, except that I had no Essure coils in my tubes.

A few days later, I scheduled another attempt in June. Even more days later, the office called to reschedule because my doctor was not there anymore. (!) They wouldn’t tell me why he was gone, but assured me that he was a good surgeon so I shouldn’t worry. We rescheduled for July (on my birthday) with a new doctor.

Happy birthday to me — I got bumped for a woman who’d gone into labor. Do you want to wait? “No.” How about tomorrow? “No, it had to be today or next month.” How about Thursday? “No, it had to be today or next month.”

A few days later, I tried to reschedule for August, but they said I had to have a consultation with the doctor about the Essure. “But I already know about it. I talked to (other doctor) the first time. I have no questions.” No, you have to meet with new doctor, too. “OK, fine.” Consultation set. I also left a message with the office manager to schedule the Essure.

Consultation rescheduled — doctor has surgery on original day.

What I won’t go into are all the messages left for various people every time something needed scheduled, and how long it took to get a call back.

I finally have a sit-down with the new doctor. She’s nice, and I know this mess isn’t her fault, but I’m pretty pissed about everything at this point. I’d figured out all the dates of phone calls/messages left, perforations, ruined birthdays, and told her I was pretty unhappy about the whole thing. I mean, three weeks later I was still waiting to hear from that office manager.

She didn’t have any idea about all the crap that had gone on, and I felt bad taking it out on her, but damn! She did tell me, though, that old doctor was basically an asshole and that’s why he was gone. (that’s not what she said, exactly, but I knew what she meant, you know?)

So, Essure scheduled for September.

Uteran perforation #2 in September. Yes, again, even though my doctor was extra careful.

It seems that having never had a kid, my uterus is small, which apparently makes it difficult to get around in there. Who knew?

I lost it. Lost. It. I laid there and bawled my eyes out from sheer frustration. After everyone scurried out to let me get dressed, I curled up on the bench and bawled some more. Eventually my doctor came back in, and we talked a little about where to go from there, and she said she’d e-mail me some information.

I didn’t make a move until last month, because I was just way too upset about everything to even think about how to next mutilate my insides. We (Dave & I, but mostly me) decided to go with bipolar electrocoagulation. I figure, the ways things have gone, any clips or clamps put on my tubes are bound to fall off and float around in my abdomen.

So here we are, surgery eve. I had my blood drawn and peed in a cup on Tuesday for pre-surgery tests, and thought I was going to puke from worrying about that needle. Today I think I’m going to puke from worrying about the IV.

I’m nervous, to say the least, despite how much I want this done. Aside from that IV, I’ve got pain in my future. From the incisions, from the procedure, and from the air that’ll be pumped into my stomach. The nurse I talked to on Monday told me that I’ll have shoulder pain like I won’t believe from that air, but if Dave rubs my shoulder it will go away, and that I should try to burp and fart a lot. Well, that last part isn’t a problem, but shoulder pain like I won’t believe? I’m a pansy, and that doesn’t sound good.

BUT — winding up pregnant sounds worse. So there you go.

If you need me, I’ll be on the couch for the next week.

Invisible and childfree?

November 15, 2007

I’m supposed to write about being invisible and childfree, but I can’t.

I’m relatively new to the childfree scene. It wasn’t until last fall that my husband and I decided that we like things the way they are and don’t want to add any offspring to the mix.

As much as I love the Internet, I don’t belong to any messageboards or BlogHer or anything like that. I lurk on some childfree blogs, but for now, that’s it.

Therefore, I don’t really feel invisible to the Webfolk, because I haven’t tried being visible yet.

However, I feel a little too visible in “real life,” and not even as a childfree woman, just as a plain old married woman with no kids.

For instance, six years ago, right after we got married, some co-workers felt the need to start asking when we were going to start having kids. These weren’t even co-workers that I’m close to; in fact, I’m pretty sure one of them hates me but this person was able to get past that enough to bug me about my lack of children a LOT. Enough that I swore the next time the person asked I was going to shout that I’d just found out I was barren and run out of the room. I’m wondering if the editor across from me passed my plan on, because the person hasn’t asked since.

I’m going to preface this part by saying that I really do love my job. BUT. There have been times when I’ve felt that perhaps childed people have taken advantage of the family-friendly environment. It’s annoying, to say the least. I can’t dump my work off on someone else and call off because my dog’s puking or the cat has diarrhea. Ehhh, that’s all I really want to say on this topic.

In the last year or two, our childlessness has become (even more of) a point of interest at family functions. The longer we went without having a kid, the more I expected this to start coming up, and the last get-together on my dad’s side was kind of what I’d been dreading since we made The Decision. It seemed like we got The Question more than we had at past functions. In the past, since we hadn’t really talked about it, I’d say we didn’t know, hadn’t discussed it, blah blah blah.

I don’t know what Dave usually told them, but this time around, his idea of deflecting the question was to tell people that he was going to make me have 10 kids. I was NOT amused, as this continues giving them the idea that the children are coming. It seemed like I heard him say it a million times, but I’m sure it was only two or three times. Point being, they’re really starting to notice, and have no qualms about asking us.

To read about other invisible and childfree views, go check out Purple Women & Friends. Teri’s got a whole bunch of links for you!

And so it begins

November 11, 2007

I know it’s winter, despite what the calendar says. I know because my hair stands on end when I pull my hood down, I shock the dog if we’re standing on carpet, I’ve switched from my Bath & Body body wash to my super-dry-skin Oil of Olay wash, and I have to put lotion on my hands to keep the skin from splitting.

I’m going to have to clear things away from the vents in my sewing room asap so I can turn the heat on back there. That room & my bathroom aren’t on the heating/cooling system with the rest of the house. The sewing room has its own system, and the bathroom has a heat fan in the ceiling.

Not only do I have projects to finish, but the animals’ food and water, and the cats’ litter box, are in that room, and they like to just hang out back there. I don’t want to sew in a freezing room, but more importantly, I don’t want them to have to hang out in a freezing room. Yes, yes, I know they have fur, but what’s wrong with wanting them to be warm?

On a completely unrelated topic, on Nov. 15 a bunch of people, including myself, will be posting about being “Invisible and Childfree.” There will be links to these posts at Purple Women & Friends. If you would like to participate, just e-mail Teri at Purple Women with the link to your post, so she can include you in the list.

The childfree choice

November 7, 2007

About a year and a half ago, I saw a brief article at work about a book called “Baby Not on Board,” which is about “the wonderful world of unparenting.” I was intrigued. I hadn’t really thought about there being an option to NOT have kids. As much as I hated the thought, I always figured we’d eventually have little humans running around with all the pets because that’s what everybody does.

After googling “childfree” and finding all kinds of lovely sights, I started thinking about it. I really didn’t want to add kids to the mix for soooo many reasons, but I didn’t really know what Dave thought about it. So, I brought it up at dinner one night, and luckily for me, he was on the same page.

Last August I mentioned a decision that Dave and I had made, and that was the childfree decision. I didn’t say what it was at the time, because I didn’t think it was anybody’s business, and because I wasn’t sure how people close to us would react.

Once we started telling people, I was pleasantly surprised at the reactions — for the most part. One of Dave’s jackass friends used it as a way to make fun of Dave, and I still owe that guy a punch in the face, but everybody else has been pretty cool once they’ve gotten used to the idea.

So, why am I bothering to tell you about this? Well, I haven’t blogged about it before (other than bitching about neighbor kids, but I’m not sure that counts), but I plan to in the future, so I thought I’d share the short version of how it started for us.


July 18, 2005

No, not the weed killer. A brief overview of recent events.

There’s still no word on the family friend that’s missing, aside from two people seeing him peek his head into a bar the Friday after he went missing. So, that makes things even weirder, in my opinion.

Rusty peed in the bedroom early Saturday morning (just before 2 a.m.) just as I was settling in to begin “Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince” (HBP). I was quite pissed. He’s never done that before, and he’d better not do it ever again, or he’ll get the boot!

Went to the family cookout Saturday on about three hours of sleep, but I didn’t get too grouchy, surprisingly enough. It was nice to see everyone, and I even got to watch my parents, Dave, cousins, uncle, and other sundry people play cornhole and listen to lots of people make jokes pertaining to cornhole. We also listened to HBP on the way there and back, so the drive time didn’t take too much away from the finishing of the book.

Which, by the way, I did around 2:30 a.m. Saturday. I must say, I am really not happy with J.K. Rowling at this moment. Dave and I kept saying “I don’t like the way this book has started … I don’t have a good feeling about this …” Not that the book is bad, mind you, just, well, we didn’t like where we thought she was going with it. I kept hoping and hoping that what I thought was going to happen didn’t happen, but it did. I bawled my eyes out toward the end when *NAME WITHHELD* died. (And if I just spoiled things a bit for anyone, I apologize, but where the hell have you been? Don’t you read the papers? Rowling said ages ago that she was going to kill off another main character!)

Then today I got to go to work. Hooray! I also learned today that the little girl next door has started taking after her brother and repeatedly asking “What are you doing?” I can’t figure out though if she’s actually talking to the dog, or if she thinks my name is Rusty, or if she just calls both of us Rusty because she can’t remember my name, because she kept saying “Rusty, what are you doing?” or “What are you doing, Rusty?” She just turned 3 so who knows what’s in her head. But I am so looking forward to having two kids scream at me from their porch! Um, no, not so much.

My kind of holiday

July 5, 2005

I like Monday holidays, as we don’t have a Monday paper so I get Sunday off and have a real weekend. I did absolutely nothing productive on Saturday, which was lovely. On Sunday we pulled the weeds out of the one flowerbed we’ve done anything with, then planted some more flowers and put some mulch down. My legs are killing me from all the squatting, bending down, etc., but the flowers look nice. I got overheated though, so I had a headache most of the evening. I’m starting to think gardening is just too much damn work – let the weeds take over!

We did have another neighbor child incident Saturday, which ruined my laziness buzz. This time I had the dog outside and I was on the phone with Dave, trying to figure out what we were going to do for dinner (the Chinese restaurant we wanted take-out from was closed). I’m going through the phone book, and the neighbors get home. The little boy comes flying up to where we were, shouting as always, with a pencil with a shark head on the end, which he used to poke at and hit the dog. Then he threw the pencil at the dog into our yard, so Rusty grabbed it and ran off with it so he could eat it. Dave’s asking me if I want this or that at a different restaurant but I could hardly hear him. I told him to hold on because I had to get the kid’s toy from the dog so the dog didn’t eat it because he’d thrown it at Rusty, trying to say this loud enough so that the mother hears me. Then Dave and I hung up and I took the dog inside and slammed that door as hard as I could because DAMMIT PEOPLE I’M TIRED OF THIS!

What happens when the kid pokes my dog’s eye out because he doesn’t listen when you tell him not to hit or poke the dog with sticks? Do I get to sue them?

Anyway, mostly a nice, quiet holiday weekend. I guess that was to gear me up for the next two weeks at work – we’ll be down a person due to vacations both weeks, and we were last week too. But I’ll try not to complain too much, since I was just on vacation too.

Anger, Akron & advice

May 18, 2005

Sometimes anger is a good thing. I wish it was a good thing more often, since I seem to be angry all the time these days, but at least Sunday it made me a bit productive. I got so mad yet again about having 50,000 boxes crammed into closets and put in the garage without having been sorted through when we moved A YEAR AGO that I actually threw a bunch of crap out, found three (small) things to put in a garage sale (that we may or may not have, but at least it was mentioned), and made a little more space in one of the downstairs closets. Not a big victory, but a victory nonetheless.

In other news, we trucked our collective ass and a washer and dryer to Akron last Wednesday to help Kim and Charles move their stuff into the new house. All things considered, it well a hell of a lot better than I had expected. It was hella hot (ha ha, I love you Jeff) and they had an amazing amount of stuff to be taken upstairs and I went too long without a rest, but that’s OK. And I cut my leg on the corner of a dresser drawer, so now I have a big red cut with a big purple bruise all around it, but that’s OK too.

Skipping on over to yet another topic, I have some advice to all my friends who have children, who are pregnant, or who are even thinking about having children: Do not, under any circumstances, let your child harass your childless neighbors. Especially your childless neighbors who work late and therefore sleep late and who have told you that they have no desire to have children at the moment because their animals are plenty to handle right now, thankyouverymuch.

You see, we have this problem. I apparently was too nice when the people next door moved in and did not set boundaries about when it’s OK for the little boy to come over and play with the dog. Now, whenever it’s nice outside and I’m out with Rusty, he’s in my yard, in my face, in the dog’s face. We’re not talking every now and then, we’re talking 95% of the time.

This little boy is only 5, so I have to hold the dog the entire time the boy is in reach, and that dog is really strong, so it’s difficult at times. And it doesn’t matter how many times I tell him he needs to stay in his yard so Rusty doesn’t jump on him and hurt him, it doesn’t matter how many times his mom says it, he just heads on over.

It used to be that when I would tell him to get back over in his yard, he’d look at me and say, “What?” like I had just spewed a bunch of gibberish. His new thing is to look at me and say, “I know” and then proceed to climb up on my porch or rile the dog up. A couple days ago I told him that he needed to go back in his yard so he didn’t get hurt and he said, “I know,” then climbed up on my porch, grabbed a ball and said, “Rusty likes to play ball” and then threw the ball into the yard. That’s when I said, “OK, we’re going in now, you need to go home.”

Yeah, that’s my new tactic. As soon as he steps foot across that imaginary threshold, we go inside.

It’s gotten to the point where I have to try to sneak outside to let Rusty take a shit and then sneak back inside without being seen, which is difficult since there’s only like three feet between the houses.

I also greatly enjoy it when I’m in the garage looking for something and I look up at the house to check on the dog, and guess who’s there. The worst part (with my being in the garage away from them, but also with the whole situation in general) is that I don’t think mom is paying attention, thereby making me responsible if the little angel falls down, gets pushed down by the dog, whatever. I’m sorry, but I gave up babysitting more than a decade ago, and I don’t have the time or desire to keep an eye on this boy. I want to be able to sit outside and do crossword puzzles in the sun, waiting for the dog to pee on the side of the porch, in peace.

Any suggestions?

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Not alone

March 2, 2005

It’s nice to find like-minded people. It helps me not feel guilty about the way I feel about things.