The results are in...already.

I got a call about 2 1/2 hours ago from the docs office.

"Where are you?" the nurse says. "Home", I replied, a bit puzzled. "Are you sitting down?" she says. "Yes, I'm in the living room on the couch. Oh God, please don't tell me I'm pregnant" I say as I begin to panic. "Yes, honey, you're pregnant!" cheerfully replies the wonderful nurse.

4816 is the number. I'm about 5 weeks along. This is my mothers fault - hers, and the rheumatologist. See, when they put me on the latest drug that I am (was) taking, he warned me that the drug makes you infertile. HA! I told him we were infertile already and it would take a miracle. He replied with "Well, miracles do happen, even when they aren't necessarily welcome." I laughed. I shouldn't have. And my mother? Well, before she died and was still...sane, we were discussing how Aaron and I were done, we were happy with our lives. And my wonderful, dear mother said "You know you'll have your first one at 33, because you wanted to be done at 30." And? Well, I turned 33 last month, 3 days before my last cycle started. I think I need to have a talk with my mother about staying out of my sex life, just like I did when I was a teen.

I always swore I would never tell anyone until 1st tri was over, but I've been telling everyone. I need support. I'm freaking out. I don't have my mommy, and I don't think I can handle my MIL hovering over me. She's going to be ecstatic. At one point she complained to my SIL that she was never going to get to have grandbabies because we couldn't have them and my SIL was dating (now married to) a man who was snipped. She said this OUT of my hearing, but SIL reported it to me because she was furious. I am already going to have to lay ground rules for the MIL - no smoking anywhere near me, nor the baby once it is born (assuming I make it that far). She's not going to like it, but I am not going to do anything to jeopardize this one.

I'm freaked. I am alternating between "I need a crib! A carseat! We're going to have to rearrange the house, and what about the animals?" and "I need to eat better. I don't think a coke and cookies counts as a healthy breakfast." I'm terrified that my period is going to show up after all. I don't think I can handle it if it does. I am so lost right now....

It figures...

I always have tests in the house. Always. Except...I don't. I have 2 boxes of unopened OPK's, which I will never use again unless a doc orders me to, but no tests. So...even though I was going to test this morning, I didn't get to. AF still hasn't arrived. Doc told me on Friday that if it doesn't show up in a week to come get my blood drawn - hell, I can probably convince the other doc to do it on Wednesday for me!

Fun times!

Fun times are happening around here. I figured I'd better update y'all. :)

For starters, I gave myself a moderate concussion yesterday. How did I do that, you ask? (I know, because everyone else has asked too!) Well, we are in the process of rearranging the house. And in my world, when you rearrange one room, you inevitable end up doing 3 rooms, if not more. Aaron started in on the "red room" (our spare room, which has deep burgundy carpet) and moved the bed away from the West wall and under the window in the North wall. Well...that made it so that the side of the bed that was facing the wall was now facing the room...which, of course, meant that I had to take the mattresses apart and fix the bedding, right? And of course I would do this when no one was home to help me, right? Right. So. I took the mattress off, leaned it against the closet behind me. I then took the blanket I'd been using as a bed skirt (the bed is a double, my sheet sets are queen...see the problem?) and decided to tuck it under the box spring so it wasn't on the heater. I was standing at the end of the bed, where the bookcase is (see where this is going yet?), and lifted the box spring to tug the blankets. Now...the next few seconds are a little hazy. I don't know if I lost my balance, or if the box spring shifted, or if the world just tilted on its axis, or what, but I fell sideways and slammed my head into the corner of the aforementioned bookshelf. Insert much cussing here. I told Aaron about 30 minutes later and he immediately wanted to come home and take me to the ER - I insisted I was fine. A friend came online about 30 minutes after that and was quite convinced that I had a concussion, and those are simply not to be messed with. I called the Nurse Line, who decided I should go in. So...about 3 hours after hitting my head, Aaron got to come home and take me in. Another hour later and I was in for a CAT, which came back clear. Still nauseated and headachy, but apparently that can happen for up to a month! Brains do not like being sloshed about!

Second bit of news: Starting at 6:45 Monday morning, I am once again, after 6 months, employed! *shout from the rooftops* I have a job! That's right - I'll be a wage earner once again, and none too soon either. It's another damn call center job, doing more tech support, but it's work. I'm getting on brain meds now, and if I end up having to go on Top@max again, at least I'm not taking the fibro meds I was last time.

Speaking of fibro meds: I've been on Sulf@salazine for 6 weeks or so, and it's working. I was supposed to go get a refill today, but...well, I'm on CD30. Cycles are normally 23-25 days, with the random 28 thrown in for confusion. The last time I recall having one like that was 6 years ago this weekend, when I miscarried my chemical pregnancy...when I started the whole TTC journey in the first place. That cycle was 31 days. The rheumatologist warned me when I started on this med that if I became pregnant I needed to stop it immediately. I'm out of meds, except what is waiting for me at the pharmacy...so I'm not getting them, and I'm testing in 2 days. I don't know if I'll remember to post the results or not, but if I don't, then chances are very good that AF showed. Lord and Lady help us if I am....I'm finally used to my life the way it is! Which, of course, means that is EXACTLY what Fate/Karma/You Name It was waiting for...

A call for help

Gwendomama is a fellow IF blogger that I have been reading for about a year now. At that time, I came across her situation from the LFCA - her husband physically abused her in front of her kids. She took them and ran. It happened on April 13th, but she didn't tell us the full story until May 19th.

Since that time, she has fought with the legal system and with him. She had a stay-away order, which he got around by living on the other house on the property, which was only 20 yards away. He refuses to pay any of the bills, or move, or move his stuff, or pay child support. Still. Still, after a year and some, he will not pay anything towards his children. Yes, they are now farther from him - about 40 miles. He also still believes that his actions were perfectly fine - nothing out of the norm.

I could continue with link after link after link detailing what this man has put Gwendo and her kids through. But I won't. Because I'm hoping you'll go over to her blog and read her story. And then? I hope you'll help her out if you can. I can't, not financially, not yet...but I can do this much for her. I can use my blog to hopefully reach other people, who might be able to help her. The internets banded together and solved a few problems, but...there's more. There's a lot more. Until her ex-jackass starts paying child support and stops having his head up her ass, she's a single mom who needs help. So please...if you can...she has a paypal button up on her page, and is working on getting a PO box for those who want to send her goodie boxes.

My time is coming to be able to pay it forward. If you've ever had someone help you, and you're in a position to do so, now is a good time for you to pay it forward as well.