I have now finally gotten live internet on all of the computers in the house. It's very exciting, like 1992 all over again.
I'm now 6 months, or at least that's what the internet tells me. I find the math too confusing to argue. I'm in my 23rd week, I think. The baby kicks like mad all day long and would now have a small chance of survival without disabilities if born. I don't see how that could be likely, but there was that baby months ago that was born in Florida at something like 21 weeks and it survived. I don't remember if the baby had some sort of disability, but I feel like I would have remembered if it did.
We changed the baby's name. As much as I love the name Serenity, it is a well known adult diaper brand. I am apparently the one person in all the land that was unaware that Serenity was synonymous for adults wetting themselves.
The baby's name will now be Jocelyn Rosalie. We will call her Josie for short. I had been thinking of Jocelyn for a long while now, but never mentioned. I figured the husband wouldn't like it. Our tastes are very different. When I finally put it out there, he immediately agreed. It was all together unexpected. The middle name was harder. Jocelyn Jayne sounded like a porn star. I liked Sarah for my late great-grandmother but he didn't think it went with Jocelyn. I made the mistake of mentioning Rose after my grandmother's sister, my uncle who just died's wife. As soon as I said it I wanted to take it back. I loved my Aunt Rose, but her name is the filler middle name of the past decade along with Marie, Joy, Anne, etc. Sarah is pretty high on the list too, but I can over look it due to my deep emotional connection to the name.
He jumped all over Rose. Nothing sounded better than Rose in him mind and nothing ever would. Every other suggestion was immediately shot down due to Rose. I read an entire 50,001 baby name book and could only get that Bianca was better than most, but not better than Rose. I told him I would never ever allow Rose and that we were going to have to find something we both liked. As a last ditch effort, I attempted a compromise and suggested Rosalie. It's like Rose, but slightly trendier without being too popular. I wouldn't use it as a first name, but as a middle name for Jocelyn, it seemed to fit well and sound nice. So now, as long as he doesn't change his mind, baby Jocelyn Rosalie, nicknamed Josie, will be with us in 4 months, baring unforeseen complications.
As for my intimate, personal life, which I seem to be bringing up more and more on here, things are okay. I've been kind of avoiding the mother-in-law because I don't know what she'll say and I don't know how I'll react. It's easier, but it can't last forever, the hellion's 7th birthday party is in less than 2 weeks.
The chiropractor is going well. I sleep better and my headaches seem to be lessening. But the chiropractor is a bit preachy (they all are. I worked as an assistant for a couple of years and I don't think they can help it. I think it's part of their schooling.) and she seems oddly involved in my condition (i.e. calls at odd hours after having just seem me to see how I'm doing). I joke that she has a crush on me and the husband is immediately interested and wants to know if she's hot. Yeah, thanks. And no. She looks like his short, very Italian aunt. I'm sure she is very pretty, but, well, not my type.
I go for my eye appointment today. If they make me take my contacts out, I'll be blind. I kind of suck at putting them back in so I may be stranded, unable to drive home. It could be very unfortunate, but hell, I can't see very well with them anymore anyway so it may not make much of a difference.
And finally, things between me and the husband have been all over the map recently. I'm suspicious by nature, especially during pregnancy. It stems from the hellion's father having sex with every single girl on our college campus while I was pregnant. I know it's stupid, but some of that past fear and anxiety creeps into my current life more and more with each pregnancy.
I know that the husband would never cheat on me. I really do, in normal, sane life. In pregnancy life, I have doubts occasionally. Normally they pass without incident. This time they appeared after he got a message on myspace from this girl he cheated on his ex with. I've got no problem with exes, either mine nor his. We both deal with the hellion's dad more often than we would like to. I've stayed friends with at least two of my exes and we both hang out with them. His exes are different though. We don't hang out with them because, well most of them hate him. He was a real ass in his day. I wasn't that great in the past either, but girls tend to hold hostility more than boys do, so they just give him dirty looks and storm out of the room. It can actually be quite amusing. Unless you are them, I guess.
Anyway, the message says that she just wants to know why things didn't work out. She's with someone else and has been for a while, apparently. It all seemed like one of those completely normal, High Fidelity moments. You know, when you are with someone and things are getting serious. You have a tendency to look back at past relationships to see what went wrong, so it doesn't happen again. I never really had the need, but then again, I tend to be very self-involved and probably just assumed that they were all asses.
Then she wanted to know why they didn't get more serious when he was with his wife. You know ... me. I think I may have a stroke. I, as calmly as possible, ask the husband what the hell is going on and he says he dated her while he was with the long-term ex and she probably thinks he's married to her. I calm down. It was a rational explanation. Sure, okay, no problem.
He sends her some message saying that they what happened between them was a long time ago and explaining the situation. She replies that it wasn't that long ago. That it ended in February of 05. You know, when we were living together and engaged. I leave. Go to a friends house and together we try to rationally figure out what the hell is going on. We conclude that she probably meant 04, before we met, and that even if she has her dates right, I'll be unbelievably mad, but it's something we could probably work through. I come home and the husband says she got the dates wrong, that he loves me, that he would never cheat on me, has never even thought about cheating on me, etc. I believe him because, well, I wanted to. When someone says exactly what you want to hear, you tend to believe them.
Yesterday morning, he's at work when she sends him a message saying that she's sure it was February of 05. She goes on to list numerous details supporting her claim. That's it, I'm done. I could get over the fact that he had sex with someone while we were dating, that's apparently what I do if you look at my past long relationships, but I don't deal well with lying. I message the girl, saying that I hate to drag her into this further, that I know she's just trying to get answers and completely understand where she is coming from, but that I just need to make sure she is certain about her dates. She has no reason to lie to me and my trust in the husband is pretty much shot at this point.
While awaiting her response, I speak to the husband. I, surprisingly calmly, explain what I know and that unless he stops lying to me, he's going to have to leave. He seemed upset and stuck with his story. He's sure it was before he met me. He never cheated on me. He didn't have a license or a car or a cellphone then. He was physically incapable of going anywhere I didn't know about and no one girls called my house or my cellphone ever. But, if I really needed time, or space, or something he would leave. He had so many points, I didn't know what to do, so I told him I would talk to him later.
I got a response from the girl saying that they were still talking back then. They were sort of dating for two months, but not having sex because she wanted to make sure he really wanted to be with her. They broke up because they never saw each other and barely talked. The last time they had sex was in December of 03.
That was more than a year before I met him. I calm down a lot and tell the husband to come home after the dentist and we'll talk. He comes home and I explain that I may be pregnant and irrational sometimes, but he has to take his share of the blame. I appreciate that he didn't have sex with this girl since we met. But, I don't exactly believe that he didn't try to. He cheated on everyone else, so why not me? I wish there was a way to prove it one way or another, but alas, the very nature of these things are he-said, she-said. My trust in him is sketchy at best because he as lied to me about stupid crap in the past. That on top of going out drinking and not coming home until morning with a only semi-believable story why, causes me concern. As much as I don't want to make a mistake and leave him if he is telling me the truth about everything, I'm not willing to risk being treated like crap. So, we can get past this if he puts a little effort into considering my feelings, stops being shifty and starts being an honest grown-up. If crap like this keeps happening, I will leave. If I'm wrong, so be it. I feel pretty good about myself and what I said.
That is until the knock at the door. It's probation. He has a new person to report to and they like to come by and check out where you live. I don't know that is why they are here and I'm sure he's getting arrested and going back to jail. Everything is, of course, fine. But see, this screwed me up further. Sure, hours ago I was going to kick him out, but that was my decision. Him going back to jail would not be my decision and upsets me. For the rest of the day and even now, I am feeling extremely needy. I'm sure that he's going to leave me, that I'm going to leave him and be wrong about it, that he's going to be taken away by jail or death. I realize exactly how much I love him and why I put up with juvenile, petty crap more often than I should. I can't lose him. It sounds sad and pathetic. Even more so if you really knew me and knew how much I don't need people, especially man type people. I realize that I wouldn't leave him for fear of being wrong. Not ever. Well, I would leave him if I actually saw him having sex with someone else with my own eyes, in person. Or if he punched me in my actual person. Something proven, solid, that couldn't be explained away by anything. But anything short of that, I don't think I could leave. It makes me feel sad and small and ridiculous. I used to be much stronger than this. Damn hormones.
I have now finally gotten live internet on all of the computers in the house. It's very exciting, like 1992 all over again.
I'm now 6 months, or at least that's what the internet tells me. I find the math too confusing to argue. I'm in my 23rd week, I think. The baby kicks like mad all day long and would now have a small chance of survival without disabilities if born. I don't see how that could be likely, but there was that baby months ago that was born in Florida at something like 21 weeks and it survived. I don't remember if the baby had some sort of disability, but I feel like I would have remembered if it did.
We changed the baby's name. As much as I love the name Serenity, it is a well known adult diaper brand. I am apparently the one person in all the land that was unaware that Serenity was synonymous for adults wetting themselves.
The baby's name will now be Jocelyn Rosalie. We will call her Josie for short. I had been thinking of Jocelyn for a long while now, but never mentioned. I figured the husband wouldn't like it. Our tastes are very different. When I finally put it out there, he immediately agreed. It was all together unexpected. The middle name was harder. Jocelyn Jayne sounded like a porn star. I liked Sarah for my late great-grandmother but he didn't think it went with Jocelyn. I made the mistake of mentioning Rose after my grandmother's sister, my uncle who just died's wife. As soon as I said it I wanted to take it back. I loved my Aunt Rose, but her name is the filler middle name of the past decade along with Marie, Joy, Anne, etc. Sarah is pretty high on the list too, but I can over look it due to my deep emotional connection to the name.
He jumped all over Rose. Nothing sounded better than Rose in him mind and nothing ever would. Every other suggestion was immediately shot down due to Rose. I read an entire 50,001 baby name book and could only get that Bianca was better than most, but not better than Rose. I told him I would never ever allow Rose and that we were going to have to find something we both liked. As a last ditch effort, I attempted a compromise and suggested Rosalie. It's like Rose, but slightly trendier without being too popular. I wouldn't use it as a first name, but as a middle name for Jocelyn, it seemed to fit well and sound nice. So now, as long as he doesn't change his mind, baby Jocelyn Rosalie, nicknamed Josie, will be with us in 4 months, baring unforeseen complications.
As for my intimate, personal life, which I seem to be bringing up more and more on here, things are okay. I've been kind of avoiding the mother-in-law because I don't know what she'll say and I don't know how I'll react. It's easier, but it can't last forever, the hellion's 7th birthday party is in less than 2 weeks.
The chiropractor is going well. I sleep better and my headaches seem to be lessening. But the chiropractor is a bit preachy (they all are. I worked as an assistant for a couple of years and I don't think they can help it. I think it's part of their schooling.) and she seems oddly involved in my condition (i.e. calls at odd hours after having just seem me to see how I'm doing). I joke that she has a crush on me and the husband is immediately interested and wants to know if she's hot. Yeah, thanks. And no. She looks like his short, very Italian aunt. I'm sure she is very pretty, but, well, not my type.
I go for my eye appointment today. If they make me take my contacts out, I'll be blind. I kind of suck at putting them back in so I may be stranded, unable to drive home. It could be very unfortunate, but hell, I can't see very well with them anymore anyway so it may not make much of a difference.
And finally, things between me and the husband have been all over the map recently. I'm suspicious by nature, especially during pregnancy. It stems from the hellion's father having sex with every single girl on our college campus while I was pregnant. I know it's stupid, but some of that past fear and anxiety creeps into my current life more and more with each pregnancy.
I know that the husband would never cheat on me. I really do, in normal, sane life. In pregnancy life, I have doubts occasionally. Normally they pass without incident. This time they appeared after he got a message on myspace from this girl he cheated on his ex with. I've got no problem with exes, either mine nor his. We both deal with the hellion's dad more often than we would like to. I've stayed friends with at least two of my exes and we both hang out with them. His exes are different though. We don't hang out with them because, well most of them hate him. He was a real ass in his day. I wasn't that great in the past either, but girls tend to hold hostility more than boys do, so they just give him dirty looks and storm out of the room. It can actually be quite amusing. Unless you are them, I guess.
Anyway, the message says that she just wants to know why things didn't work out. She's with someone else and has been for a while, apparently. It all seemed like one of those completely normal, High Fidelity moments. You know, when you are with someone and things are getting serious. You have a tendency to look back at past relationships to see what went wrong, so it doesn't happen again. I never really had the need, but then again, I tend to be very self-involved and probably just assumed that they were all asses.
Then she wanted to know why they didn't get more serious when he was with his wife. You know ... me. I think I may have a stroke. I, as calmly as possible, ask the husband what the hell is going on and he says he dated her while he was with the long-term ex and she probably thinks he's married to her. I calm down. It was a rational explanation. Sure, okay, no problem.
He sends her some message saying that they what happened between them was a long time ago and explaining the situation. She replies that it wasn't that long ago. That it ended in February of 05. You know, when we were living together and engaged. I leave. Go to a friends house and together we try to rationally figure out what the hell is going on. We conclude that she probably meant 04, before we met, and that even if she has her dates right, I'll be unbelievably mad, but it's something we could probably work through. I come home and the husband says she got the dates wrong, that he loves me, that he would never cheat on me, has never even thought about cheating on me, etc. I believe him because, well, I wanted to. When someone says exactly what you want to hear, you tend to believe them.
Yesterday morning, he's at work when she sends him a message saying that she's sure it was February of 05. She goes on to list numerous details supporting her claim. That's it, I'm done. I could get over the fact that he had sex with someone while we were dating, that's apparently what I do if you look at my past long relationships, but I don't deal well with lying. I message the girl, saying that I hate to drag her into this further, that I know she's just trying to get answers and completely understand where she is coming from, but that I just need to make sure she is certain about her dates. She has no reason to lie to me and my trust in the husband is pretty much shot at this point.
While awaiting her response, I speak to the husband. I, surprisingly calmly, explain what I know and that unless he stops lying to me, he's going to have to leave. He seemed upset and stuck with his story. He's sure it was before he met me. He never cheated on me. He didn't have a license or a car or a cellphone then. He was physically incapable of going anywhere I didn't know about and no one girls called my house or my cellphone ever. But, if I really needed time, or space, or something he would leave. He had so many points, I didn't know what to do, so I told him I would talk to him later.
I got a response from the girl saying that they were still talking back then. They were sort of dating for two months, but not having sex because she wanted to make sure he really wanted to be with her. They broke up because they never saw each other and barely talked. The last time they had sex was in December of 03.
That was more than a year before I met him. I calm down a lot and tell the husband to come home after the dentist and we'll talk. He comes home and I explain that I may be pregnant and irrational sometimes, but he has to take his share of the blame. I appreciate that he didn't have sex with this girl since we met. But, I don't exactly believe that he didn't try to. He cheated on everyone else, so why not me? I wish there was a way to prove it one way or another, but alas, the very nature of these things are he-said, she-said. My trust in him is sketchy at best because he as lied to me about stupid crap in the past. That on top of going out drinking and not coming home until morning with a only semi-believable story why, causes me concern. As much as I don't want to make a mistake and leave him if he is telling me the truth about everything, I'm not willing to risk being treated like crap. So, we can get past this if he puts a little effort into considering my feelings, stops being shifty and starts being an honest grown-up. If crap like this keeps happening, I will leave. If I'm wrong, so be it. I feel pretty good about myself and what I said.
That is until the knock at the door. It's probation. He has a new person to report to and they like to come by and check out where you live. I don't know that is why they are here and I'm sure he's getting arrested and going back to jail. Everything is, of course, fine. But see, this screwed me up further. Sure, hours ago I was going to kick him out, but that was my decision. Him going back to jail would not be my decision and upsets me. For the rest of the day and even now, I am feeling extremely needy. I'm sure that he's going to leave me, that I'm going to leave him and be wrong about it, that he's going to be taken away by jail or death. I realize exactly how much I love him and why I put up with juvenile, petty crap more often than I should. I can't lose him. It sounds sad and pathetic. Even more so if you really knew me and knew how much I don't need people, especially man type people. I realize that I wouldn't leave him for fear of being wrong. Not ever. Well, I would leave him if I actually saw him having sex with someone else with my own eyes, in person. Or if he punched me in my actual person. Something proven, solid, that couldn't be explained away by anything. But anything short of that, I don't think I could leave. It makes me feel sad and small and ridiculous. I used to be much stronger than this. Damn hormones.