Friday, May 27, 2011


I was okay with the nausea. I was okay with the room spinning, and the gagging at everything. I was even okay with the occassionaly throwing up.

I am not okay with the following:

1. Not keeping a single item of food in me since Tuesday night.

2. Throwing up 30 minutes after I eat anything, even those things that are supposed to help calm the morning (MORNING! HA!) sickness beast.

3. Throwing up for no reason at all, when I haven't eaten anything.

4. Throwing up in the morning, during the day at work, at night, and forGodssake, in the middle of freaking night. 1 am, 2 am, 3 am, whatever.

I literally ate 3 Cheerios this morning. 30 minutes later, they were hanging out in the toilet.

Nothing works. Nothing helps. And now, my ever-delightful body is starting to name WATER as the enemy. WATER. I am freaking hungry and thirsty, but nothing stays down. I am exhausted. I blew up at Vor last night, poor man, but I have no temper control. It's not hormones--its the no food, no water, all regurgitating thing that is going on.

We got to see and heart the heartbeat of the little booger yesterday. While it was very cool, the only thing I could think during the whole thing was don't puke don't puke don't puke oh no--!!!

So, enough. I am calling the doctor and getting some of this anti-nausea medication for myself.

I mean, this is not normal, right? I should be able to eat and drink SOMETHING. My sister, who was a thrower-upper too, said hers was never this bad and I needed to get help before this got even uglier.

I swear on my family Bible, I am not joking. It is actually this ridiculous. I am not to the point where I can't open the refrigerator (not like I'm eating anything out of there anyways). Some one make me feel better and less like a weak cop out.

Saturday, May 21, 2011


In no particular order:

1. Dog. The entry before this should be updated to be named Very Bad Dog Does Worse. I managed to pass the critical point of 5 pm, the point at which the "morning" (morning! ha!) sickness fades. The dog threw up four or five times in a row. Each time I dragged him off the carpet, he would run over to another spot on the carpet and puke again. I would have killed him if I hadn't then started throwing up. And then he had the temerity to wag his pretty tail at me.

2. Dinner. Tonight was baked potato (or sweet potato) topped with sour cream, cheddar cheese, and BBQ pulled chicken. Super easy and quick, especially if you cheat and use store bought already made pulled chicken. Has any one ever heard of grilling lettuce? I have a recipe for it, and it sounds kind of good.

3. Food, Hatred Thereof. Screw cravings. I don't want anything. It's all about what I can stand to have near me--raw meat, cooked meat, vegetables. I mean, do you people know what I normally eat? We've discussed this, right? I eat fruit, vegetables, and meat. No bread, grains, no sugar. Except, now I don't. Now all I keep down is bread and cereal and some fruit. Well, in the evenings I can eat some meat--alittle. I feel disgusting, my joints hurt, and my face has broken out. I don't blame the baby, I blame the sugar.

4. Clothes/Belly/Weight. Remember how I lost those 30 pounds by eating right? Yeah. Now I'm eating all the crap I cut out. I am gaining serious weight because of it. Yes, I realize that I am pregnant and I will gain weight. I just want it to be the right weight. The whole reason I got rid of the sugar and bread etc. was because I was borderline diabetic and gaining weight, always. Then I wasn't, and I was healthier than ever. Now my clothes don't fit. I don't think I can blame that on the kid yet. Can I? How soon do you gain weight?

5. Work. Vor said, You don't tell me about work anymore. It's just too stressful. My case load has upped, the cases are nastier and nastier, sometimes brutal and terrible, and I am just tired. I am still getting overwhelmed with passive aggressiveness from X. It just gets more creative every day. There is going to be some serious rage unleashed soon, because my temper is getting shorter.

5. Baby. The "do before baby" list is pretty much complete and impressively long. Cute baby clothes have already started arriving. My mother made a stuffed animal to add to our Mom-made sutffed animal menagerie. Vor is convinced it's a girl. My sister is convinced it's a boy. I keep having dreams about twins, so I don't know if that is a sign or a nightmare. Vor was a twin. A fratneral twin, so slow your horses--that doesn't make me susceptible to having twins. I have colors picked out.

There's more, but truly? Vor has the Goo Goo Dolls on, and well, I'm a hometown girl. I'm going to go have a dance party.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Bad! Dog!

Really? Stuffing all the floor? Mind you, it was all over the house.

Monday, May 16, 2011

Not Yours, Part Deux

So last time, I explained how the cat got out the bag to a good chunk of the legal community. And it turns out I was not wrong--the news spread from clerks to bailiffs to court reporters to judges to attorneys. Sweet.

Then I hear that the same person has been telling people s/he isn't sure I am coming back after I have a kid.

Okay. I was baffled, a little annoyed that "X" told the courthouse that I was pregnant. But whatever. It's good news. It's not like I wasn't (hopefully) going to eventually look like a pregnant woman. It's not like they won't figure it out when I say, "Hold up!" to the other attorneys and the judge in the court room, and then bolt for the nearest bathroom. But most of all, it's good news.

I am ANNOYED about this not coming back thing. It undermines me, whether X meant it to do so or not. It makes them think they should cut me out of the conversation, since I'm not coming back. It hurts the relationships I have carefully built up with the clerks, the court reporters, the bailiffs, the judges, and of course, the other attorneys. I've already had people asking, I've already seen people who are involved with a case on my docket turn to another attorney in my office. Is X spreading this to my bosses? Awesome.

I am going back. Law school loans + husband with law school loans + mortgage + baby + (intangible factor of my sanity X need for rational, non-cooing or screeching interaction) = Grace needs to go back to work. At least part time. Maybe that will change some day, but for me (and I stress, this is only for me--know thyself), that's the way it has to be.

So I tried to talk to X about it. FAIL.

Re: the actually telling of the pregnancy, it was all, "you should have specifically told me not to tell!" "but it's good news!" "but I'm so happy for you!" I would have bought the last two more if the first one had not been said first. While I didn't say Thou Shalt Not Speak Of Baby, I said things to the effect of "so early," "only telling most important people in our lives," "want to keep to ourselves for a bit longer," etc., etc., etc. I shut the door. So, no winning that battle, because anything I said didn't matter.

Re: the telling people I might not be coming back. I said, you should have come to and asked me. I would have told you I am. "But plans change!" Yes, I am painfully aware of that. But I am planning on coming back. "But plans change!" Over and over and over, while I tried to explain this was problem.

It was like beating my head on my desk. Finally, I said, whatever. I knew I'd made my point--and my point is that I don't want X telling more people, and specifically telling more people I am not coming back.

If I hear any more talk of this that is directly attributable to X, I will take the next step. It won't be pretty, but I have worked my increasing behind off to build a good professional reputation, and I will damned if I let anyone undermine it.

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

But Some Secrets Are Not Yours To Tell

My relationship, personal and professional, to this person is complicated, but for the sake of this, let's call him/her a colleague. Obviously, I had to tell work about le bebe, because there are thin walls and it's not hard to hear the puking girl in the bathroom.

However, I was not expecting to head downtown, walk into the court room, and have all the clerks and a judge congratulate me.

I was not expecting the same thing to happen again at THE NEXT FOUR COURTROOMS I WENT TO. Clerks, judges, bailiffs, even one of the sheriffs.

How does this happen, you ask? A colleague is how this happens. A colleague you tell, because s/he is a person you would end up turning to for either personal or professional support if anything went wrong.

Would I be turning to the entire City/County Court Building for support if something goes terribly wrong? NO. That's why I didn't burst out telling them good news, even though I see these people just about every day. Plus, it's a gossip fest. If the Court knows, the attorneys who go into that Court (read: the entire Indianapolis legal community) will know.


Yes. I have been fairly free with the information, because I believe I have a kiddo right now, and if something happened (can you tell we have had really bad experiences with pregnancies lately here?) I would want people those people I told to know, to understand, to... I don't know. Something. Because in some way, I rely on them. I would turn to them.

True, I did not issue an office edict that said, Please Do Not Pass On. Maybe I thought that was somehow implicit in the fact I am only sixish weeks along. Or the fact I said I wanted to keep it to myself longer, but I thought they needed to know. Or the fact I announced it in a private meeting, and I shut the door. I don't know.


I'm waiting for the cashier at Kroger to tell me congratulations.

Truly, when this happened, I was stunned. I kept smiling, and said thank you, and told people as little detail as possible. And then I thought, well I had better preempt this, and in the next courtroom I went into, I told the clerk, I have some good news, and she said, we already know you're pregnant! What fun! Ditto, Ditto, Ditto.

I am still a bit stunned. I don't know if I am mad. I don't know if I am okay with it. I am just stunned.

Friday, May 6, 2011

Color Wheel

Here are the colors:

(no they are not all the same color. they are very different. I swear.)

Here is the room:

(room comes with fun loving dog)


Thursday, May 5, 2011

Secrets Secrets Are No Fun

Well, I outted myself at work, because it's completely possible for me to have to run to the bathroom in our tiny office without being noticed. Not.

I have a full day, 8:30 to 5 pm, of hearings tomorrow. So, help? Crackers? Tell the judge ahead of time? Beg for mercy from the other attorney(s)?

Also, so much for keeping the news quiet on the family front, because:

1. Mama Vor, while drugged and completely loopy, announced it to various people, when then in turn announced it to others, results in the cashier in Meijer saying congrats! heard you are pregnant! Well, I jest about that part, but truly, all of our family and friends in Indianapolis know.

2. Facebook. I told my neices and nephews--over iChat, 'cause we have regular iChat dates. Nephew A told his cousin (my second cousin) on Facebook, who told her mom (my cousin) who told her mother in law (my aunt) who told... all of my Mom's siblings. Who then told all their children.

Vor thinks people at work will find out, because he told a close friend there (also because his wife is my friend, and she is a NICU nurse, so OF COURSE I had to tell her), but they talk... at work.. with the door open... and people have ears, you know? Who knew.

Oh well. It was no fun as a secret.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

A Trip to the Dentist

And not in the Veronica Mars sense, either.

I have a rare gift on my hands: a day off from work in the middle-ish of the work week. God bless elections. So, I set up a little trip to the dentist.

I haven't been to a dentist officially in ages. However, my brother in law is a pediatric dentist, so whenever I go home, I beg for a look, and tells me that all is well. But since the little stick of happiness produced a second line for me, my mouth has HURT. It's crazy. I want it to stop. Now.

This little venture in DDS is not the only thing on my list, either. What list is that, you ask? That would be the "before baby" list, and yes, I realize I am not very far along, and I have lots of time, and bad things could happen, and good things like winning the lottery could happen, but what can I say? I am a list maker.

There is pretty much a list for every room. The bedroom? Reorganize to make room for baby. Boot the desk out and upstairs, and turn the desk into a changing table. (Speaking of which, I see no reason why this could not work. It's a pretty desk, lots of drawers, and as long as everything is properly secured and baby is not left alone... how is it different than any other changing table?)

Rooms must be painted (thank you mama Vor), baby gear must be found (what do I actually need? I dislike clutter. Vor HATES clutter), rooms must be cleaned, the carpet either needs to be cleaned or replaced, etc., etc., etc.

I have possessed by an overwhelming desire to make curtains for the baby room. Explain this, please. I have also been super productive in the cleaning area--linen closet redone, all guest rooms straightened up for the impending switch up and painting of rooms, bathroom closet redone, my corner of the office cleaned, kitchen pantry organized. I cleaned out my closet, reorganized it, and prodiuced several large bags of clothes for Goodwill. (I mean, I did not wear that shirt last summer, and it sure as heck is not going to fit me this summer. My rule is one year without wearing it, and it goes. So, it went. All of it.)

Telly is not thrilled with this chaos. Maybe he wil sleep while I am at the dentist... and while I go find some more office organizing material.