Stunned.

My husband has been having an affair. I don't know the extent of it yet. What I thought was my life is a lie. And I have been hiding the pain he has put on me for the past few months from you. I was using this blog as an escape and a way to look for the positives in my life.

I don't know if I will post anymore here, but if you want to contact me please use the email address ashleyreser@yahoo.com, message my facebook account, or text my cell. I don't know if/when I will respond. Please do not post on my facebook wall or twitter feed. 

 I am Furious. Betrayed. Deceived.

I am Strong. Loyal.  Loved.

Gratitude List

My healthy, squirmy little boy

Incredible, loving parents

Friends who have dropped everything to be with me and take care of me

Immediate and extended family who are praying and loving me

My strong faith in God

A job I love at a place that is safe

You sneaky...

When I was about 14 weeks along I told Jason that it was so weird to be in my body because it wasn't acting like MY body.  He laughed, but the phenomenon of my body feeling so foreign was frustrating.  I couldn't eat what I had always eaten. I couldn't sleep like I had previously slept.  Pooping was a totally different experience of which I will spare you the details (for now).

As of the past week my body has decided to re-rebel against me. So far I've spilled 2 glasses of water, one school carton of milk, dropped at least 20 pieces of popcorn at Benny's in one sitting, and ruined 3 shirts due to spills.  A few days ago I was walking around my classroom while the kiddos were working on an quarterly assessment and again, my body betrayed me in a serious Benedict Arnold sort of way.

Without warning a tiny poot escaped with a noise far exceeding its size.

It was a moment where my character was tested.

I glanced down at the nearest child as though the offending noise and scent could be his doing.

Teacher Fail. What were my options? The dog was at home...

Gratitude List
Loving parents and in-laws
Beautiful white snowy scene outside of my window
Morning snuggles with Wolfie
Working out a friend conflict successfully
Healthy Peanut according to doctor visit
Fun times with Amanda and Joanna prepping for the shower

Not a Panic Attack, Huh?

I woke up at about 4:15 last night- not surprising. In fact, it was my third middle of the night wake up which is currently par. (Though at times it feels more like a handicap.)  This time, though, something was scarily different.

My body was jittery, but I couldn't remember coming out of a scary dream. I laid there for a second simply feeling my pulse race and trying to breathe deeply.  After a few minutes of deep breathing I was only more terrified because I was still shaking. I placed my left hand on my belly and used my right index finger to take my left wrist pulse.  My pulse was steadily slower than my shaking body.  It was at this time that I realized I wasn't having an anxiety attack, but my belly was.

Peanut had the hiccups.

Gratitude List (12/28/11)
Lunch visit with Bethy
Dinner visit with Jenny
Chance to visit with Aunt Joy, Uncle Mike, and Debora
Decaf gingerbread latte from Starbucks
Sleeping in because Jason got up with Wolfie

We're Having A...

You know from this post that Christmas day was a big reveal day for whether we would be spending our money on prom dresses or car insurance. I thought quite a bit about opening the red envelope on Christmas Eve before bed, but Jason and I waited until morning as we promised we would.

The card waiting on the tree next to a too cute ornament from a colleague.

I was getting a bit anxious about this reveal.  I figured that both ways I would feel elated and deflated because with this one announcement some visions of future bliss would grow and others would disappear. Tea parties vs. playing trucks. Pink vs. blue.  Baby-sitters Club vs. Artemis Fowl. Gymnastics vs. peanut league. (Haha tennis and choir, either way.)  Sleeping Beauty vs. Hercules. Hormone hell vs. Trips to the ER. (Note: I believe in gender equality as much as the next moderate woman of the 21st century, but these seem to be the likely direction of Peanut's life based on my own experiences growing up in a little town in Ohio.)

Well, Christmas morning arrived and I got up, got breakfast in the oven, and stocked Jason's stocking with his goodies. The whole time I was getting things together, my hands were itchy. In A FEW SHORT MOMENTS I would know whether there was a penis growing in me or not.

We sat down together on the big chair in our living room and opened the envelope. S l o w l y.

Get it? (There is a seed on the card. )

 Inside of the card we saw...

Our doctor is so adorable. He wrote, "Happy to be your child.  Thanks for creating me, Your Son."

We grinned at each other, kissed, and I wiped away a few happy tears. (Of course I also cried over a Charmin commercial the other day. That mama bear just wants the baby to be clean.)

So, we're having a son. A boy. Can't wait.

Gratitude List
A bouncing baby boy
Seeing my parents' faces when I told them they would have a grandson
Watching the nephews and niece celebrate and play
Having a chance to talk with the SILs and BILs
Two wonderful pairs of in-laws

Just Gratitude Tonight

Gratitude List
God gave his only son for us.
I have a healthy family
Next Christmas I will be celebrating with Peanut in my arms
Peanut's daddy
My support system is much wider and more supportive than I ever imagined.

Questions You Would Ask if You Saw Me

The holidays are a great time for running around, eating too much, and spending quality(?) time with friends and family.  I remember going to my grandparents' homes on Christmas Day and having the same discussion with nearly everyone over the age of 25. (And in total I have 20 aunts and uncles, so I remember this conversation well.)

Hi Ashley! Give me a hug! You've gotten so big! (I smile while generally being smushed against rib cages or ample chests with a muffled "Mfrank tchou.)
How is school going? (It's good. I like school. They let me get my work done and then let me read. It was pretty much all I wanted.)
You're in ____ grade now, right? (Nope. Doesn't matter.)
Who's your teacher? (Mrs. _________. Not that you know her.)
Is she nice? (Sure. She lets me borrow her books and read when I get my work done.)
Where's your brother? (I'm not sure. I'll go get him for you.)

And that was my cue to escape to the basement where my cousins and I would play games, make up plays/musicals, create human pyramids, and bother the older kids. They were cool. Really cool. They had letter jackets, carried footballs, sported side ponytails, acid-washed jeans and BIG permed hair with flippy bangs.

Christmas with G&G West: 1985
Can you spot the coolest kids?

On Thanksgiving, I caught myself doing the same routine with anyone under the age of 21. It must be a requirement of childhood.

Now that I'm visibly pregnant there is a similar set of questions to answer.

Hi Ashley! Give me a hug! You've gotten so big! You really are pregnant, huh? (Yup. The stick said so, the blood test confirmed it and the ultrasound proved that there is only one baby in there. Oh, and I'll have to give you a butt-out hug because these babies are 2 cup sizes larger and the belly sticks out an inch beyond them.)

And now you see why the butt-out hug is a requirement.

Blank stare. How many months is that? (IDK. The books and doctors only care about weeks.  Do the math. I'm somewhere between 4 and 7 months.)

Are you having a boy or girl? (Cue the monologue.) "Well, we don't know yet, but the doctor does. You see, Jason wanted to know the gender, but I wanted to be surprised at delivery.  It would have been okay for him to know, but we both knew he wouldn't keep it a secret and I didn't want his second cousin's neighbor to know the genitalia of the baby I was growing before me, the grower. Soooooo, (deep breath) we decided to split the difference in time and have the doctor write down whether we are growing a boy or a girl on a Christmas card and then put the card on the tree to be opened on Christmas morning.  This way we find out before the babe emerges, but it can be a private moment and memory for us."

People only respond in 2 ways to this.
1) That's SO ADORABLE! Your baby really is a gift from God and your idea is so sweet.  (Swoons.) Your self-control must be incredible. I don't think I would have been able to wait. Did you peek? Do you want to peek?
2) (Blank stare.) Why? If you're going to find out, why did you wait so long?

Harumph.

So, have you had an weird cravings? "Pineapple, oranges, clementines, kosher dill pickle juice, milk, butter pecan ice cream, cheese balls, wonton soup, shrimp (which I didn't like before,) beer, and merlot."

You look good. How much weight have you gained? At first I was taken back by this inquiry, but I've found that pregnant women belong to the world, and no question is too personal.  "As of my last doctor's appointment, 5 pounds." (Never before in my life had I had ANY trouble gaining weight, but now that I'm encouraged to pack on the pounds, I can't seem to rise to the occasion. It adds to my feelings of inadequacy, but I suppose this would have happened if I had stopped drinking beer and wine for 6+ months and threw up continuously for 2 of those months.)

Are you excited? It depends. Excited to meet, snuggle, cuddle, coo over, sing to, and generally adore Peanut? Absolutely!! Excited to expose lady parts to a plethora of medical personnel while experiencing some serious trauma? Not so much.

Are you going to breastfeed/co-sleep/have an epidural? Yup. Doubt it. I'm no hero, so I'm planning to get whatever they'll give me. Do you think medicinal marijuana is an option? (jk...)

Where's Jason? I'm not sure. I'll go get him for you.

So, hopefully I've answered some of  you questions without being too smug. (Click on the word smug. You'll love it.)

Gratitude List (from yesterday)
Chance to catch up with friends from high school
Great meal at Fahrenheit 600
All of the bathrooms in my house were clean at the same time
Finished wrapping the presents
Baked a new recipe
The cashier at WalMart told me about a sale at another store and gave me the price match
Long chat with Amanda as she drove back from Louisville
Neither the cat nor dog broke an ornament yesterday

25 Minutes of Peace

I've noticed a new cycle in my life. (Perhaps replacing the old one...) Every four weeks since late July I spend approximately 3 weeks, 6 days, 23 hours, and 35 minutes worrying that I have hurt/mutilated/strained Peanut and 25 minutes feeling confident that all is well.  This does not aid my (already fragile) sanity.

At my first prenatal appointment my midwife (Yes, a midwife. No, I don't eat granola, hug trees, or wear organic fabrics. I even plan to use (gasp) disposable diapers.) was pleased to know that I was the assistant tennis coach because it meant I'd be exercising regularly.  I had been terrified that a tennis ball would bean me in the midsection, crushing my fragile gummy-bear-sized babe, but she said that I had nothing to fear and that Peanut was well protected by my torso. (Note: Did she call me fat? How did I miss that at the time?)

Since then, I find it easy to believe that my every decision impacts Peanut's well-being. If I miss a prenatal vitamin with breakfast I have hindered brain and heart development. When I pick up a 24 pack of Pepsi to put it in the grocery cart, I have strained Peanut's limb or kidney development.  On the really challenging mornings that I drink 1/2 of a cup of coffee, I have forced ADHD upon my unsuspecting child. Obviously, I overreact. If you've been reading my blog this should be no surprise.

Well, yesterday I had a real scare and I couldn't blog about it until I had some results from my doctor's appointment.  At school we had a dance on Wednesday afternoon. A few of the more rambunctious kiddos went wild with the freedom and began running in crazy circles around the gym.  One of those kiddos ran smack into my bump with some real force. Then, through the evening and night I didn't have the constant internal nudging of Peanut. (How about some pickle juice, mama? Maybe a bite of chocolate, coconut, almond Grater's ice cream?  You know we could indulge a little...)  I didn't relax until today when the nurse squirted some goop onto my tummy and Peanut let loose with some irritated kicks. Apparently, being cold is not kosher to my fetus.  Then, we heard a loud, steady heartbeat and I could breathe again.

Of course, the feeling lasted about 25 minutes when I walked past a man smoking on the street. (My baby is going to have asthma, now.) At least now my appointments will be 2-3 weeks apart so there will be less time between peaceful moments.

Gratitude List
Mid-morning nap
Phone time with Joanna and Mom
Made plans to see Jenny-bunny
Found some perfect presents
Listening to Newsies while wrapping presents
Chatting with Patt at my appointment and giving her a chance to hear her newest grandchild's heartbeat