About Elle

I'm a Navy wife and a mama to a daughter who's like a hummingbird on crack.
Author Archive | Elle

Hyperemesis Gravidarum

Since I had hyperemesis gravidarum with my first pregnancy, with the little hummingbird, I’ve called it “that Harry Potter sounding spell”. I’ve since had it with each pregnancy and let me say this.

It is NOT “bad morning sickness”.

HG isn’t anywhere in the same category. One of the ways that I’ve tried to describe it to my husband is that it’s like comparing a paper cut on your finger to breaking your hand.

I much rather refer to hyperemesis gravidarum as extreme pregnancy sickness. Not that morning sickness is a walk in the park but HG is horrible and something I wouldn’t wish on anyone.

While I was thankfully never hospitalized for it, last year when I was pregnant, it was agony for many months. The only thing that I could really keep down was iced tea lemonade and I remember how my ob/gyn became really concerned when I lost over 10 pounds in just a few weeks.

As far as my experience with it, something as simple as water is completely and utterly repulsive when you have HG. Even smelling water was horrible. Yes, water had a smell to me.

Sounds and movement even aggravate HG. Like when I would lay on the couch and my daughter would hop around by me. I would be in agony. Or I would still be in bed and my husband would be talking to the hummingbird and his deep voice would seem amplified and actually make me sick.

Hyperemesis gravidarum is like when you drink too much and get the spins and say “I’m never drinking again”. But instead, you have this awful motion sickness feeling 24/7 for several months.

Pregnancy should be such a happy time. Being excited about seeing the beautiful life that you’ve created and hopeful when it comes to the future with your child.

Every single day, I felt like I wanted to die when it came to having HG. Sure, I thought I would die because of how sick I felt. But at times, I would think being dead would be much better than dealing with the day-to-day sickness that was completely overwhelming when it comes to having hyperemesis gravidarum.

The so-called “happy time” in my life was such a nightmare for me. I tried everything possible to help with this awful pregnancy sickness. I’m allergic to the more common anti-nausea medication but would take another kind and still, it did very little to ease the HG.

Nothing helped my issue with hyperemesis gravidarum.

I have given so much thought when it comes to having another child because of dealing with hyperemesis gravidarum. It’s truly the hardest decision I’ve had to make. Especially with having a 6 year-old to care for.

Despite wanting to have another child more than anything in the world, having HG with my last pregnancy was more brutal than the previous times and that concerns me.

Time is ticking away to try one last time. I’ve been trying to convince myself that it will be perfectly fine if I just have one child. It makes me feel ungrateful at times to want another, especially when so many people go through heartache and many years to try for a baby.

But honestly, I long to have another child… even if it means my head will be in the toilet for 9 months.

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Yours Is Better

Be forewarned. This is a mash-up of things going on. Scratching your head while thinking “what the fuck?” and confusion may follow. Other side effects may include drowsiness, irritability, and dizziness. If you have an erection lasting more than 3 hours, please consult a medical professional.

Okay, I thought I’d just throw in the last one. Ya know, to see if you’re paying attention.

My daughter and I picked up the same cheese quesadillas and took them home. She was STARVING and had to have hers right away. I had a few things to do around the house that took longer than I thought aka “Mom, can you please give me a drink! My food’s cold now. Can you heat it up? I need to poop first. Now it’s cold again”, laundry, putting away the groceries, etc.

She took a few nibbles out of it and left the quesadilla sitting there for half an hour. The bird told me she was done and threw it away. Once I was finally able to sit down and eat, guess who was STARVING again and had to eat my food?

I asked my 6 year-old what was so different about mine and she let me know that mine tasted much better. I ended up eating some peanut butter m n m’s for lunch and my kid caught me. So, not only did she eat my cheese quesadilla, she found that I had a secret stash of chocolate.

~~~~~

We finally found a house and move in 5 weeks. We have one more year here until my husband gets out of the military and then we plan on moving back to the west coast. We have SO much shit to move and it’s been tempting to just take everything out of the house and set it on fire. We haven’t even begun to start packing yet and whenever I start thinking about it, I want to throw a toddler tantrum and yell I don’t wanna, I don’t wanna, I don’t wanna!

~~~~~

Our cats went to the vet and she put them on a kitty diet. Seeing my husband try to hold each one while standing on the scale to see if they’ve lost any weight while they wiggle around is pretty entertaining. I don’t know how to give them more exercise than they already get by chasing each other around the house like maniacs.

There should be an exercise dvd for pets. The closest one of my cats comes to exercise is lying on my exercise mat while I’m working out.

~~~~~

I’ve been throwing myself into books more than normal and even try to put the bird to bed earlier since she can’t tell time yet. Win!

I’ve been reading these books and hopefully you may come across one you like… :)

 The Light Between Oceans – M.L. Stedman

The Girl On The Train – Paula Hawkins

To Selena, With Love – Chris Perez

Yes Please – Amy Poehler

Needful Things – Stephen King

Mrs. Kennedy And Me – Clint Hill

Confessions Of A Praire Bitch: How I Survived Nellie Oleson and Learned to Love Being Hated – Alison Arngrim

The White Mountains (The Tripods) – John Christopher

Short story long. When I was 13, my English teacher assigned the class to read this book. I wasn’t really into science fiction and since I was a kid, I dreaded having to read anything other than V.C. Andrews. I was surprised by how much I liked this book and the whole trilogy.

Several years later, this book crossed my mind and I wanted to read it again but I couldn’t freaking remember the name of it. I spent another several years googling or looking up keywords or whatever I could remember about The Tripods but still couldn’t find these books. A few months ago, when I was searching yet again, I found it. Yay! Sure it’s for kids, but I like it just as much as the first time I read it.

What have you been reading?

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Book Review: The Husband’s Secret

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I’ve been reading so many thrillers and decided it was time to change things up. I came across The Husband’s Secret by Liane Moriarty and while I wasn’t sure what to expect, I found there was more weight to the plot lines than I had expected.

It took a bit to wrap my head around the three main characters, Australian women Cecilia, Tess, and Rachel. But, their stories start to intertwine and at that point, it was hard to put the book down.

Cecilia is a very organized and put together woman with a husband and three daughters. Her life becomes out of sorts the day she comes across an envelope from her husband. The contents of the letter inside are unknown but the words on the envelope ‘only open in the event of my death’ makes Cecilia’s curiosity get the best of her.

Although, out of all the scenarios she ponders, reading the letter and finding out a truth about her husband isn’t anything she could have ever imagined.

Tess thinks she has it made with her husband and young son, Liam. She has a stable and comfortable life until she finds that the people closest to her have been betraying Tess. It puts her in a tailspin and has her going off to Melbourne to stay with her mother. She also comes across an old boyfriend, Connor Whitby, which has Tess conflicted.

Marriage was a form of insanity; love hovering permanently on the edge of aggravation.

Rachel dotes on her toddler grandson, who is her world. Soon, her son and daughter-in-law drop the news that they’re moving to New York City. The thought of no longer living near her grandson is too much to bear.

Rachel is also still reeling from the loss of her teenage daughter many years ago. Her murderer has never been caught but she’s had her eye on a suspect for quite a while. Rachel finds a video that gives her the certainty of her daughter’s killer but convincing the police isn’t so easy.

Should you buy the book? Yes, if you like suspense and mystery. I’ve already downloaded another of the author’s books, Big Little Lies.

*A must see… Thunderstruck – 2Cellos

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The Stages Of Buying And Reading A Book

My husband thinks I’m nuts, which is a given, but even more so because of the emotional attachment I have with every single book I read. Even the not so great ones. But once I start a book, damn it, I have to finish it.

Example A.

I read several books at a time but there’s always a front-runner and after that book is finished, the cycle starts over again.

Stage 1: Deciding on a book to read. Sounds easy but it’s torture picking one book out of millions. Damn those first world problems.

Stage 2: I finally decide on one but there might be a few more that are in the running. As much as I love real books, I’ve been reading on my kindle more and more. So, I use the “buy now with 1-click” button. And those few other books that sounded good? The “buy now with 1-click” button makes me get those too.

You are a thing of evil buy now with 1-click button. Evil, I say!

You are a thing of evil buy now with 1-click button. Evil, I say!

I had more self-control when I would be asked for my credit card but it would be in my purse downstairs and I would be too lazy to get it. Boom, no impulsive shopping for books or anything else for that matter. Now, with that clicky button, I go clicky crazy and have accumulated so many books, I could open my own library.

Stage 3: I seem to start out reading a book and usually think, meh. Because it’s not the last book I read and my head is still in that story.

Stage 4: I cannot put the book down. I don’t want to tear myself away from the characters. My kid needs to be fed, dinner has to be made, and laundry has to finally be folded after spending the past 3 days in the dryer after being dried over and over again with the intention of taking it out but then forgetting about it. But I can’t stop reading!

Stage 5: It never fails that when I’m at a crucial point of a book, my 6 year-old wants to have every single second of my attention. Even if she has a friend over to play with. I’m convinced that kids have an internal radar that pings when you really, really need a little time by yourself. It’s like she knows and thinks “Wait a second! My mom looks like she’s enjoying herself without my company. So, I will bug the shit out of her to make sure she remembers I will never let that happen.”

For that matter, even my husband is that way. The man isn’t much of a talker but when I’ve been having a toddler like tantrum in my mind because I haven’t been able to move along in the current book I’m reading and my daughter is in bed at last, I open up my kindle and my husband seems to have a rare moment when he wants to talk and talk. They know. Oh, yes. They know.

Stage 6: Oh my god. I’m getting close to the end of the book. No! No! No! This can’t be happening. I want to finish but I can’t let these characters go!

Stage 7: I set the book aside for several days because I need time to accept the fact that it will be over soon. Sniff… sniff.

Stage 8: I finish my beloved book and it’s bittersweet. Yay, I’m done but booo, so is the story and characters I’ve been consumed with.

Stage 9: Spend days with a book hangover.

Stage 10: Finally settle on a new book. And get a few more because of that damn “buy now with 1-click” button.

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Purrell Force Fields Would Really Come In Handy

Just when I felt like my writing mojo was finally coming back, time hasn’t been on my side. FYI, this post isn’t for sensitive stomachs.

The hummingbird has gotten sick countless times since she started Kindergarten. It’s one of the germiest places, apparently.

My 6 year-old has a few weeks left of school but has gotten two different ailments in the past two weeks. Last weekend, she had a stomach bug. I felt like I won the not very pukey child award prior to this since she hasn’t been much of a thrower upper. That’s a word.

Sure, she’s done it every now and then but nothing too bad.

Until last week.

After catching vomit in various ways… cupping hands, getting a giant bowl, grabbing her and sprinting to the bathroom, etc… I feel like I should get a barf badge to sew on my Brownie sash from when I was in the 4th grade.

Better yet, all new parents should be given a sash so we can receive badges for the milestones we go through with our children.

Pumping breast milk and accidentally spilling that precious liquid gold? There’s a badge for that.

liquid-gold

Potty training your child? There’s a badge for that.

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Surviving Toddler PMS without going through with your plans of running away from home? Get out the sewing kit… because there’s a badge for that.

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My husband ran and got a bowl. A tiny, little bowl that would be more suitable for a kitten with a hairball. He must have noticed my death stare because he said “What?”

And then we had a conversation I never thought we’d have. The conversation about what bowl would be best for Little Miss Pukey.

My husband’s side of it was any bowl is suitable and he had grabbed a bowl which he uses to take his lunch to work sometimes. Gag. But my side was the bigger the bowl, the better to catch any and all kinds of puke. And it would need to be a bowl we would never, ever, ever use again. But, it would be put in the medicine and towel closet and forever be known as the puke bowl.

I can’t believe we discussed this either.

These are only stunt bowls but the size I grabbed is on the left. My husband’s is on the right.

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So, I carried this bowl around wherever the hummingbird went for the next few days while she was home from school. At least it was better than using my hands or having vomit all over my shirt.

The bird was finally feeling better and finished out the school week. Yay!

And then she got sick again. Fuuuck. Of course it was on a weekend.

Her pediatrician has walk ins during the week for only half an hour at the ass crack of dawn. So, off we went. Things seemed to be looking up and then her doctor did a test.

A few minutes later, it came back positive for step throat. Fuckity fuck.

Poor kid.

After the pukefest and strep and all the school she’s missed this year, we can kiss that perfect attendance award goodbye. But really, how in the hell do some kids never miss one day of school from Kindergarten to their Senior year?

Are they surround by some protective barrier we can’t see? A Purrell force field perhaps.

I should start working on that before the hummingbird starts first grade. Wrap her in bubble wrap to prevent bumps, bruises, and scratches, put her in a hazmat suit with a built-in alarm system, and have a Purrell force field follow her everywhere she goes.

Then, I may not be so freaking anxious whenever she’s not in my care.

Who am I kidding? I’ll always be that way.

What kind of parenting badges would you like to receive?

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Their Brother

Yes, I’ve watched the Duggars on and off for years. With 19 kids, the most I was expecting was for a few of them to come out of the closet some day or having some of the kids go against the way they were brought up.

They’ve been pushing more shows about the older kids for the past few years. The courting and chaperones, the quickie weddings, the quickie quickies that made the quickie brides quickly get knocked up.

And then it seemed like if you weren’t hearing about the horrid Karthrashians, it would be the Duggars. There were several times I would think “I want off this fucking planet!”

Especially when the Duggar family would, and I’m paraphrasing here, call gay men and lesbians sexual deviants. Then oldest son, Josh Duggar, took his family to DC where he was working for the Family Research Council, where he resigned yesterday.

And now, this appalling news. Josh Duggar molested five girls and four of them are his sisters. Words fail me about how sick I’ve felt when hearing this.

What makes it even worse, if that’s even possible, is how his parents thought a few months of hard labor and reading the bible would rehabilitate him. They spoke of counseling in their statements but they sent him to build a house and bam, he’s fine?

In the statements the Duggars have made, they seem to stress that Josh was a “young teenager” (14, 15 years old) when he molested these poor girls.

Well, I call bullshit.

A “young teenager” may sneak out of the house to go to a party.

A “young teenager” may drink underage at a school dance.

A “young teenager” may sneak cigarettes or smoke pot.

But, a “young teenager” does not molest 5 girls, including a babysitter, on multiple occasions over the span of at least a year (I’m going by the police report) while some of them are sleeping or in other instances.

Age does not have anything at all to do with molestation. It’s not something you do to rebel and then grow out of.

Yet, Josh Duggar seems to be saying ooops, I was young and made mistakes.

It wasn’t a “very bad mistake” when he was a “young teenager”. It was incest. It was sexual assault. He changed those girls lives forever and I can’t imagine having him in the same house with his young sisters after his so-called treatment.

I hope someone steps up and gives the Duggar girls the professional help that they desperately need. Instead of having them live the rest of their lives trying to push down the guilt and betrayal in one of the worst ways from what was supposed to be a trusted family member. Their brother.

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I’m Not Really Sure What I’m Trying To Say Or If I Even Have A Point So, I Guess It’s Like Anything Else I Write On Here

Obviously, I haven’t been as dedicated to my blog in the last year as I was for the first 4 years. And I’ve been trying to figure out why because I really miss it. I’m still writing but not on here very often. But the other week it hit me. It’s self-doubt, among some other things.

Yes, I may sound like a whiny bitch but when I came across some things last summer about people doubting I was ever pregnant with my son that I lost last year or if I’m even a mom at all what the fuckity fuck?!, that just put a bad taste in my mouth when it comes to writing on my blog and over sharing. I just felt like “fuck this”. I know I’m way too sensitive but it’s hard to accept that there are people like that out there. If I read something I don’t like on a blog, I move on and don’t rip that person to shreds. Especially since there are a billion other blogs to read.

No, not everyone has to love me or what I write but damn, I openly share these things about myself because not only do I feel better when I’m so open… it’s kind of like therapy, I know what it feels like to think you’re the only person out there who’s going through depression, anxiety, the what the fucks of parenting and motherhood, and figuring out what the hell is up with this husband guy I live with and his never ending snoring and grinding of his teeth and lack of talking or talking too much when I have that special one night a year to enjoy The Oscars and the butthead talks all the way through the ceremony and I want to punch him in the balls. Really, hubby? Really? You rarely talk as it is but talk nonstop the one time of year when I’d prefer your usual silence??

So, yeah. I used to think my blog was a safe haven in a way but since last year, I worry about anything I may write and what may possibly be picked apart elsewhere.

But I know I should say fuck it. This type of thing comes along with the territory although knowing there’s a site out there specifically to rip apart women bloggers is unsettling.

The grief I’ve been experiencing more and more from the loss of Ben has also had such an effect on my desire to write. His first birthday would have been June 4th and the closer that date comes, the harder it is to get my ass out of bed and somehow function as best as I can.

We also recently found out that while we have one more year in Maine, the owners are coming back this summer and we have just a few months to find a house, pack, and move by July. And since my husband will be retiring from the Navy next summer, we then have to move again to what we hope will be our permanent home somewhere on the west coast.

I’ve logged into my blog many times to write about each of these things but since knowing that whatever I write may be put under a microscope by others and judged, it sucks. And to be blunt, it’s very hurtful.

But then I think there may still be those who actually read what I write because they like it. At least I hope they do. And that’s exactly who I should put my focus on.

It’s so true how you can have people say 10 positive things about you but it’s the one negative thing that will be what sticks out in your mind.

I need to stop thinking about those who will always have negative things to say or may hate read my blog.

I need to go back to writing the way I used to. Writing without having all of this self-doubt about how others will perceive it.

Fun little fact… I took an Ambien an hour ago so if this doesn’t make a smidgen of sense, there you go!

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