Until All The Pieces Fit

I haven’t blogged in quite a while… I clearly just use this as an outlet for things I can’t quite talk about publicly, or when i just need to be heard. This may be the hardest thing I’ve ever written, but I can’t keep it to myself any longer.

My son is 3.5 years old now, 42(ish) inches tall and a whopping 60 lbs. He is in the 99th percentile for height and off the chart for weight… built just like his 6’5″ daddy. Unfortunately, he has some developmental concerns that are just as incredible as his size. This has been a long time coming.

At his 1 year checkup, as the pediatrician went down the checklist of typical milestones I answered everything with an enthusiastic yes and a smile- until she began to ask about his vocabulary. At this time he was only saying ma ma and da da. I expressed my concerns and made it known that I felt he was behind with speech. His pediatrician chalked this up to him being a boy. She reassured me by saying “Girls his age may talk more, but I bet he can throw a ball better.” She was right, so I laughed and agreed, and tried not to stress.

Fast forward to his 2 year checkup. Still, the same concerns regarding his speech. By this time he was saying ma ma, da da, ball and turtle. Nowhere near where he should be. At all. I expressed my growing concern and was once again reassured that he was just a typical boy and would start talking in his own time. I left this appointment feeling less than satisfied. It was at this time I began putting other pieces of his personality together with his speech delay and started to suspect there may be a much bigger underlying issue. The more I researched the more I became convinced that my son had autism.

I made another appointment with his pediatrician when he was 2.5 years old and demanded a speech evaluation. I again asked his pediatrician if she agreed that he may be autistic. She disagreed, based on the fact that he is extremely affectionate and makes decent eye contact. I didn’t push the issue further, thinking “she is a doctor, I’m a hypochondriac. Let it go.” We went to the speech evaluation a few weeks later and to no one’s surprise, he was found to have a profound speech delay and started hospital based speech therapy right away. We also got involved with the first steps program and added weekly home visits with a developmental interventionist, school based speech therapy and occupational therapy. He has made some progress, but nothing extraordinary.

3 year checkup time. We still don’t have very many more words than we did at the 2 year checkup, or 2.5 year special appointment. His pediatrician finally agrees that there are some red flags and refers us to Cincinnati Children’s Hospital to see a developmental pediatrician. After a few hours of discussion regarding my pregnancy, his delivery and infantile development, up to where he is today, the developmental pediatrician stated that she does have concerns for Autism Spectrum Disorder. We are scheduled for the ADOS in late August and anticipate a diagnosis of ASD.

I know, and have known in my heart that my son has autism since he was 2. It’s honestly a relief to finally be getting answers and explanations for his shortfalls, eccentricities and resistance to change. But as relieved as I am, I am just as heartbroken. I’m grieving for the possibilities that my child may not have in his future. I’m grieving for the friends my child may not be able to make. I am grieving for the isolation and bullying my child may be subjected to. Im grieving the words that he so desperately wants to say but just can’t. I’m grieving this diagnosis. Every second of every day I am grieving the things autism may take from my perfect, innocent son. And then, i feel guilty for grieving these things. I love him the same regardless and will be here for him every step of the way. But I cannot accept this without asking why him? Why my baby? We have no family history, no pregnancy complications, no clear “why”. It just happened.

I have told 3 friends, and of course my husband knows. I also joined an autism mom support group. Aside from these people, I haven’t spoken about this to anyone. I can’t. I don’t have the words, nor the explanation that I know will be expected when I tell people about our Autism journey. So for the sake of my sanity, I’m letting you in.

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It’s been a while…

Well y’all… it’s been a minute. A lot has changed, but a lot is still the same. We’re still a party of 3 for now, but working on a sibling for P. We’ll start there.

We’ve been officially hardcore trying for baby #2 for 3 months now. One month naturally, one month on 150 mg of Clomid and this month we’re trying Femara for the very first time. If you’ve never had to deal with infertility and the hell meds that come with it, consider yourself blessed. It’s exhausting. Clomid made me a crazy person and Femara is making me pee every 3 minutes. I was relatively lucky with P and conceived on my first round of fertility meds so I’m kind of lost and shocked by the fact that we’ve had more significant trouble this time around. Hopefully this is the month, and I can start blogging about my pregnancy!! We’ll find out around February 20th.

My job. Good God. I’ve never loathed something so much in my life. I work in residential lending, where I process and close mortgage loans. If you’ve ever bought a house you know that this is a lengthy process and it doesn’t happen overnight. What you don’t know, is that the overworked and underpaid people behind the scenes are busting their asses and failing to meet the unrealistic timeframes that are set for the process. Recently my position was restructured. When I moved to the department I work in now I was hired as a mortgage processor. Moderately stressful, but manageable. However, they have combined my position with the closing position. Nobody wants to be a closer. Everyone wants their loan closed like yesterday, and when you have 25 loans to close it’s impossible to satisfy everyone. I pretty much close the loans for the people who are bitching the loudest. It’s terrible. I would have never applied for this job, but alas, I was given an entirely different job and a shit ton more responsibility on top of the job I was already doing- for no increase in pay. So, I want out. I’ve been in banking for a little over 5 years, started as a teller, moved to loan operations and then to residential lending. As I’ve moved up I’ve gained some pretty significant pay increases. I don’t make a lot of money by any means, but I live in an area where $10 an hour is considered “good” money and that fact that I make beyond that makes it practically impossible to find another job that doesn’t involve a pay cut. I have bills to pay and mouths to feed so for now I will continue to eat sleep and breathe mortgages.

Me, as a person. I’ve changed. I don’t know when or how it happened but I’ve grown some serious balls. I’ve become assertive and confident and at times, even confrontational. I’ve never been a person to stand up for myself, I would rather just keep my mouth shut and avoid confrontation. But I find myself speaking my mind a lot more these days, and I like it. I’m proud. I’ve distanced myself from friends from high school and become much closer with newer friends who I have more in common with and can better relate to. I think I can partially contribute my change in attitude to my bitches 🙂

And last, but certainly not least, P! He’s a big boy now. We celebrated his 2nd birthday in December with a Ninja Turtle party. Does he like Ninja Turtles? No. He’s still obsessed with Mickey Mouse, but I didn’t want a Mickey party 2 years in a row so I picked the cutest decorations. He had his 2 year checkup last month so I’ll give you the obligatory mom stats: he’s 35 inches tall, 35 lbs, has an entire mouth full of teeth, wears 2T/3T clothes, would eat rice and cheese for every meal if you let him, and watches Mickey Mouse every chance he gets. He still sleeps with me, with his hand wrapped in my hair all night long. He loves to cuddle, and he loves group hugs with me and his daddy. He also enjoys pushing our heads together and making us kiss, that’s a little disturbing and we’re trying to make him stop it… he tried to make my sister in laws kiss the other day. Awkward. He’s just a typical rambunctious little boy who loves running, climbing, picking his nose and doing gross boy stuff. I wouldn’t have it any other way! 

I always say I’ll try to blog more, but I get busy and it never happens. I’ll try to do better this time though, hopefully my eggo will get preggo so I’ll have more interesting things to tell you about!! Otherwise you’re gonna just have to listen to me bitch about my job… I apologize in advance. 

Really missin my bump…

  
I so hope I get a little baby in my belly this month. I miss being able to feel him flopping around, and I miss being able to keep him safe and warm inside of me. There’s just something about growing a human that can’t be described. Pregnancy is  and amazing. So, enjoy my reminiscent bump pics, and wish me luck!

Clomid- Round 2

AF showed up right on time this month. My progesterone on my unmedicated cycle was only 6, so I think anymore unmedicated cycles would be pointless. So here we are… CD 4, Clomid day 2. If I conceive this month the due date will be mid-November. I can be back to work by the first of the year and not lose any of my vacation and sick days for 2017. That’s exactly what I wanted when we started planning baby #2, so my hopes are high this month!

In a perfect world, here’s how things would play out:

 

Well here I am, pissing on sticks again.

It’s been an interesting week, to say the least. I found out my sister in law was pregnant and had a meltdown and decided it wasn’t meant for me to ever get pregnant again. Then, she goes to the ER for cramps and finds out its an ectopic pregnancy and ends up in surgery at 1 a.m. I am absolutely heartbroken for her, and slightly terrified of the same thing happening to me if I do get pregnant again. There are literally a million things that can go wrong and end a pregnancy. It’s mind boggling and I would be lieing if I said I wasn’t scared about it. I’ve been beyond blessed to have had 1 pregnancy that resulted in a happy healthy baby 39 weeks later, and I feel like I’m pushing my luck… Does that make sense?

Anyway, I had my progesterone checked on CD 20 and it was a whopping 6.0. The jury is still out on whether or not that is a level that indicates ovulation in an unmedicated cycle according to my google research. But, I’m going to assume I O’d but not very “strongly” since I did get several positive OPK’s. So now we wait for AF. I’ve tested since 10 DPO and everything has been negative. My boobs are massive and feel like I would imagine porn star boobs feel like, but other than that I don’t really have anything I can call symptoms. It’s not over til it’s over though, right?! 

  Anybody see a line? No?! Me either 😳

All Systems Go

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If you don’t know what you’re looking at, they’re ovulation tests. They detect a surge in the hormone LH, which indicates you will likely ovulate in the next 24-48 hours. A positive test will have a test line (right side) that is darker than or equal to the control line. I have a short cycle (26-27) days, so instead of the standard CD 14 ovulation, mine comes on day 12.

I should be excited… I should be so relieved to have a regular reliable cycle and the ability to ovulate on my own. And though i am excited, a little part of me can’t help but feel guilty. I feel so downhearted to think that something that comes so easy for some, many women are going through hell to achieve. I’ve been beyond blessed to have a child and I can only hope and pray that I’m blessed with another. But I want everyone to experience it. It’s not fair that a level headed woman who has her shit together and wants nothing more than to bring life into the world has to struggle for years before her dreams come true. It’s just not fair… But alas, I’m about to ovulate.

I’m going to have blood work on cycle day 19 to confirm that I’m indeed ovulating on my own. But in the meantime my husband is one happy man 🙈. More updates to come!!