Monday, November 3, 2014

Ready or Not, Here She Comes! (Part 2)

Let's see, where did I leave off? Oh yes, I was being admitted! Poor Earl, all of the blood drained from his face. My nurse came to start my IV and she asked him if he needed a wheelchair! He seriously looked like he was about to pass out. Thank goodness he didn't, although that would have made for a funny story!

So we got to my room and the CRNA came in to start my epidural. Oh thank goodness for that man! He had a little difficulty getting the catheter in the right spot, but once he did, I was doing good! At the time, I didn't get a whole lot of sleep. It was about 430 am when I got the epidural. I was exhausted. But I couldn't sleep. I remember trying to watch a movie or two. The nursing staff was awesome, so kind and funny and just all around great. They had to turn down the dosage of my epidural at one point because I couldn't feel anything below my waist. Couldn't wiggle my toes or anything. I felt bad for my nurse each time she came to turn me from one side to the other because my legs couldn't have been light and I was no help at all. But she was awesome!

Shame on me for not writing this sooner...the memories are starting to fade.

I think the doctor came in and ruptured my membranes about 11 or so. That was an odd sensation.

But I think they started pitocin before that. Maybe 7-8? I don't know because I couldn't tell a difference with or without it!

Finally it came time to start pushing. Pushed for about an hour and then took a break. During that break, the baby decided it would be a good idea to go posterior. Oh. My. GOSH! That was the only time I felt any pain. Like a white hot poker stuck straight into my left hip. Only time I cried from pain. So I got to spend some time on my hands and knees. That was so much fun....yeah, fun...

After about another hour or so of pushing, Miss Katelynn Claire Jones was born:


Born August 3, 2014
7 pounds 2 ounces
20.75 inches


She was so tiny! Katelynn arrived 10 days before her due date and so we were not expecting such a small bundle of cute! Thank goodness for my sister-in-law who provided us with newborn sized clothes and a pack of newborn diapers!


The whole experience was surreal. It still is a bit. 


I can't believe they let us take her home. She was seriously a little doll. So perfect and tiny.


She was so tiny in her bed. 


Now, at 3 months, she is all grown up and smiling and starting to laugh.

My heart just melts when I see her. 

Welcome to our family Katelynn!


Ready Or Not, Here She Comes! (Part 1)

I need to get this written down, before I forget any more of it.

This is the story of how Katelynn Claire Jones made her appearance in this world.

My due date was August 13, 2014. I didn't get paid maternity leave from my job so I knew I needed to work as long as possible. I set my last day of work to be Friday August 1. I planned on using the following week to wash and organize baby clothes, do my own laundry, and rest.

It has to be said that the weeks leading up to my last day of work were tiring and occasionally difficult. The second week of July Earl and I made a trip to triage at the hospital because I'd been having bad cramps. Turns out I was having contractions 5-6 minutes apart. I wasn't progressing, so they sent us home. The next few days I noticed changes in my body and I seriously began to doubt whether or not I would be able to continue working. I very strongly believed that I wasn't going to make it to my due date.

So, back to my last day of work. I made it! I was so tired, swollen, and uncomfortable. But I finished! I went home and celebrated by putting my feet up and not moving. Earl and I had planned on seeing "Guardians of the Galaxy" on Saturday and we were looking forward to it.

Saturday dawned and I woke up about 7am. I awoke to contractions, but this was nothing new to me. I'd been having irregular contractions for the last 2-3 weeks. They eventually stopped so I didn't think about them again. So I got up and went about having breakfast and treating myself to a (terrible) haircut and (wonderful) pedicure. This was my "last hurrah" of sorts, plus I wanted pretty feet at the hospital. Soon as I got home from my pedicure, Earl and I headed off to the movies. During the movie I started having contractions again. Still irregular and highly annoying. But each time one started, I would squeeze Earl's hand and try to focus on the movie.

We headed off to Bed, Bath, and Beyond when the movie got out. Did a little shopping, and a lot of wandering around. I had noticed some bright red spotting after the movie, but didn't stress over it as it wasn't a ton. Figured it was part of the process of getting closer to term.

When we got home Earl got ready for work and I just chilled on the sofa. The contractions were still off and on, not worth timing as they would stop and start. Not once throughout the day did I honestly think I was in labor. I was only 38 weeks and my doctor had been pretty confident I would go to 40 weeks.

As the evening progressed, the contractions were still erratic but weren't stopping. So round about 830 pm I started to time them. Each lasted about a minute, but they were anywhere from 1, 3, 5, 8, 10 minutes apart. I wasn't in a regular pattern and so I still believed that I wasn't in labor. I even stopped timing them because they were so irregular.

I was tired and annoyed by the time Earl got home from work so I took 2 Tylenol PM to help me sleep.

I didn't sleep.

I continued having contractions and eventually got to the point that I couldn't lay down, I was too uncomfortable. I was sitting up in bed and Earl finally asked me what I wanted to do. I told him I wanted to go to the hospital. So I threw a few last minute things into my suitcase that was mostly packed and we headed out the door.

I told Earl that we would leave the suitcase in the car just in case they sent us back home. He didn't believe I was in labor either.

So we got checked in at triage and I was dilated 3 cm and 80% effaced. Sure enough I was contracting about 5 minutes. It felt to me that the contractions were coming closer together and were getting stronger. After an hour my nurse came back to check me and I was still at 3 cm. I cried. I was in more pain and I didn't want to go home. So we talked with my nurse and she said she would check me again in 30 minutes. If at that point I hadn't progressed further, I would be sent home.

I told Earl over and over again that I didn't want to go home.

Those 30 minutes dragged on and on and on.

When my nurse returned, I was now at 5 cm!! In 1 hour my body hadn't done squat but when push came to shove, I dilated 2 cm in 30 minutes! Things were happening now. No turning back. This baby was coming!

...To be Continued...

Friday, June 20, 2014

This Little Babe of Mine

My Little Girl

Gotta hold on easy as I let you go
Gonna tell you how much I love you
Though you think you already know
I remember I thought you looked like an angel wrapped in pink, so soft and warm
You’ve had me wrapped around your finer since the day you were born

Chorus:
You’re beautiful, baby, from the outside in
Chase you dreams but always know the road that’ll lead you home again
Go on, take on this whole world
But, to me, you know you’ll always be my little girl

When you were in trouble, that crooked little smile could melt my heart of stone
Now look at you, I’ve turned around, and you’ve almost grown
Sometimes you’re asleep I whisper “I love you!” in the moonlight at your door
As I walk away, I hear you say, “Daddy, love you more!”

Chorus

Someday, some boy will come and ask my for your hand
But I won’t say yes to him until I know he’s the half that makes you whole
He has a poet’s soul, and the heart of a man’s man
I know he’ll say that he’s in love
But between you and me, he won’t be good enough!


Chorus


I'm feeling a little a lot emotional today. I've got some anxiety bubbling up. I'm listening to Pandora at work and the above song by Tim McGraw came on. I know it's written from a father's perspective, but it's got me all choked up and teary eyed. Give it a listen if you want, the link is available. 

This is my little girl:


I have such a love for her already. I am excited to meet her, but scared out of my mind to be a parent. I'm 32 weeks pregnant. Time is growing short. Am I ready? 

August seems so far away, yet when I say that I have 8 weeks to go, it sounds like it's next week. 

Just like Bilbo Baggins says in The Hobbit, An Unexpected Journey, "I'm going on an adventure!" And what an adventure this will be! 

Sunday, May 11, 2014

Why Mother's Day is Hard

I've debated for awhile now on whether or not I wanted to write this post. Then, this past week it has been at the front of my brain, or at least very close to it. This is a topic that is very close to my heart. One that is very difficult to write about. So here goes.

I haven't always had a strong desire to be a mother. When I was a little girl, I had my dolls that I would mother, but as I grew older, I started to focus more on sports, school, work, and not necessarily in that order. I had a plan as a teenager that I would get married by the ripe old age of 21 and perhaps start a family within a few years after that.

Well, when I reached 21, I wasn't ready for marriage. Heck, I hadn't seriously dated anyone. Ever. So I kept on at school and work. When I was 23, I met Earl at a church activity. We had fun, hung out, and started dating. About 1.5 years later we were married. I was 25, he was 29. We both agreed to not have children in the first year of marriage-we wanted to spend that time adjusting to life together. Well, about 6 months into our marriage, I started to want to start a family. It wasn't overwhelming, just a passing thought of how fun it would be to have a baby. The responsibilities that come with a baby didn't cross my mind.

Fast forward to our 2nd anniversary. I had been religiously on birth control for 2 years. I could not stand the side effects I faced every month from those little bitty pills. I was guaranteed a migraine and terrible PMS mood swings. It's ironic because the brand I was on was allegedly known for improving PMS symptoms. Guess I'm the exception. So I stopped taking the pills. I told Earl, he was a little freaked out. But in my mind, I was selfish and validated my choice by telling myself that it takes 2 people to make a baby, the responsibility to prevent that shouldn't fall solely on my shoulders.

So we played Russian Roulette so to speak. I knew the basics of reproduction (thank you public schools) and the terms and anatomy and vocabulary. But I paid very little attention to my own body. I wasn't too worried about becoming pregnant.I figured that it would happen if it was meant to happen. So we weren't actively trying each month to get pregnant, we just weren't preventing it.

As the calendar pages turned, I started to realize how much I wanted a child. Looking back, I am able to recognize the want came from seeing my friends have child after child. I wanted to be like them! I wanted to fit in! I fell for the old, "If your friends jumped off a bridge, would you?" and wanted a child because my friends were having babies. As the days turned to months which inevitably turned to years, I became jealous. Bitter. Angry. I wanted what they had. Desperately.

Every time a friend announced she was pregnant, I cried. Bitter tears, self pity overcame me and I sobbed. I couldn't understand why my wish, my dream, my righteous desire was going unfulfilled. At one point I recall sitting in church when the thought came to me "Not yet." I knew that was the answer to my prayers. It wasn't the answer that I wanted. But it was an answer.

So I was content for awhile. But the feelings kept creeping back. While I was truly happy for my friends who were getting pregnant so easily, I still cried with every announcement. I began to have a difficult time at church. It seemed like every lesson women would comment about how great it is to have children. Then another would chime in that she wished she could have just 5 minutes of alone time, that her kids never left her alone. I would sit with a stormy look on my face and judge these women. I was angry at them. They had children, for crying out loud! I would give anything to have those little ones!

I hated going to church on Mother's Day. It was awful. While I deeply love an appreciate my own mother, I was filled with self pity because I had not earned the title of Mother. I hated to be reminded of what I wasn't. I felt like a fraud, a sham, undeserving of the flowers and chocolate that were handed out to every woman over 18. I was not a person to be honored.

Mother's Day 2013 was the best Mother's Day because I was able to surprise my own mom. I flew in to California for a few days of work at my previous job and I showed up at church that Sunday. She had no idea I was coming. It was wonderful because all the pressure was off me that day.

But the rest of 2013 was full of self inflicted pressure.

Each month that went by I became more and more despondent. It had now been almost 3 years since I stopped taking the pill. I had read up on infertility. So much so that it became an obsession for me. It wasn't healthy, but what could I do? I unfortunately did not have infertility treatments covered through my insurance. So I couldn't be diagnosed. I had no idea what was causing us to not get pregnant. Earl thought it was him, I swore it was me. But we couldn't afford the testing and treatments. So I sat and wondered. I analyzed everything.

Slowly, as each month went by, my hope dwindled. It kept getting chipped away, sometimes little bits, sometimes huge chunks.

We had a women's activity at church in November 2013. It was on finding joy in your current season of life. As we sat in a circle, each woman sharing what brought her joy, there was a recurring theme: children. At least 3/4 of the women present voiced how their kids and grand kids brought them the most joy. I sat there, surrounded by women, I felt utterly alone. I had nothing in common with these women. I didn't have kids and it was starting to look like I never would. So many times I almost got up and left. I was angry and on the verge of tears. I couldn't take it. I hated hearing about how great it was to be a mother.

And then it was my turn.

Have you ever seen the movie "Mean Girls"? There is a phrase that is used, "word vomit". Basically you start speaking and aren't able to control what comes out of your mouth. It doesn't matter if you've thought it out ahead of time, you have 0 control once your mouth is open.

That's what happened to me.

Before I even knew it, I was telling these women that I wasn't in the same season of life as them. I didn't have kids and I didn't think I was going to. And to top it off, I was blubbering the whole was through. So maybe they couldn't understand me at all. Regardless, I was crying uncontrollably and I was so embarrassed. I went home, feeling completely defeated. I hadn't found joy. I had found more sorrow, self pity, and even more anger. I was afraid to go to church after that embarrassing display. But I did. I still kept to myself, but I went.

Just a few short weeks later was Thanksgiving. I was so screwed up in my head that I could not focus on what I had and what I was thankful for. I only thought about what I didn't have. That was my ultimate low point. I was depressed. I finally admitted to being depressed. I didn't want to be with family. I was tired of life. I wanted to stay in bed all day. I didn't want to face the world.

I physically felt drained. Emotionally, I had nothing to give. I felt like a shell of a person. I wasn't even close to being complete. As I was dealing with emotions that I had long put-off, I accepted the fact that I was not meant to be a mother in this life. The "not yet" answer I had received years previous I began to interpret as not having children. I accepted this. I had gone through the stages of anger, denial, and now acceptance. I can't say that I bounced right back. But I resigned myself to being a wife, not a wife and mother. I would be good about keeping a clean house. I would work 40 hours a week. But I wouldn't be a mother. I started to look into finding a stable to hang out at. Something, anything, to keep me busy.

I never found a barn. Instead I found 2 pink lines.

So while I am now a mother of an unborn babe, I still appreciate the struggle women of all ages, races, nationalities, religions go through when they don't have a child to make a card for them. I know what it's like to be on the other side. I know the feelings of desperation, fear, anger, bitterness, jealousy that come to a childless mother on this day. Am I suddenly more appreciative of this day that is set aside to honor mothers? Not necessarily. I think I am more aware of the women who don't bear the title of Mother and more compassionate toward them. I may not know their reason for not having children, it's not my place to know. But this is a day to celebrate womanhood. To honor the women who made an impact on my life whether they are biologically connected to me or not.

I won't say patronizing things to inspire false hope. I will mourn with those who mourn. Comfort those who stand in need of comfort. Because I was there. I was one of them. I'll always be part of the infertility group because that was my life for 3 years.

And now I'm starting a new stage of life. One that I prayed and hoped for. One that scares the living daylight out of me. 3 more months and my life begins.

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Who Can Relate?

I have to record this before I forget it.

Yesterday at work I had a hankering for something sweet. It was early afternoon, it could be passed for dessert after my lunch.

Anyway, so I grabbed $1 from my wallet and headed to the vending machine with the intent of getting a bag of peanut butter M&M's. I put my money in, entered the code, and watched as the bag moved forward, and got stuck.

STUCK.

My peanut butter and chocolate in a hard candy shell did not drop. I was ready to cry. I couldn't even shake the vending machine. I had to get help. I couldn't leave my sugary goodness hanging by the corner of the bag, waiting for someone else to come along and get it!

I went in search of help.

For those of you who may not know, I work at a company that manufactures custom windows and doors. The shop floor is 99% male. And half of them most likely don't speak English (not trying to be mean or racist, it's just the nature of the business I'm in). I was on a mission. I had to find someone who I knew would understand my plight and be willing to take a minute from their schedule to help a poor pregnant woman in need of a chocolate and peanut butter fix.

I found one such person. I love him.

Not like that! But he made my day so much better because he was able to shake the vending machine and retrieve my peanut butter M&M's. All was right in the world after that.

And that was my day.

Friday, April 4, 2014

My First Hospital Stay

Well, what a week it's been!! I had an OB appointment last week and at the appointment I was told I had gained 5 pounds and was right on track. The babe's ultrasound 3 weeks previous looked good and she is growing as she should be. It was a good day!

Then came April Fool's Day. And what a not so funny trick my body played on me.

Most of the day on Monday I had been feeling pain in my lower abdomen, but nothing severe, just uncomfortable. I attributed it to growing pains as my lower back was aching too. By 4 am on Tuesday, I was in a world of hurt. I got up to use the restroom and while I'm doing my thing, my stomach decided that was a great time to empty itself as well. I'll spare you the details.

This continued for the next 5+ hours.

After texting with my sister-in-law who just had her baby and has become my go-to on all things pregnancy, I called up my OB's office and left a message for the doctor. At this point I couldn't even keep water down. I was in a world of hurt.

At 930 the doctor's medical assistant called me back and I explained to her what was going on. She told me that their protocol was for me to go to OB triage at the hospital to be seen there as it was looking more and more like I would need IV fluids. So Earl and I got dressed and he escorted me down the stairs and pulled the car up. It was only about a 15 minute car ride, but it felt a lot longer to me.

And wouldn't you know it, no sooner had he put the car in park to go find me a wheelchair, I got sick in front of the hospital. At least they are equipped to clean up such things.

So OB triage takes me and starts the registration process. I'm not seen by a nurse, and by the time I get my armband and sign the papers, they've changed their minds and I'm sent over to the ER. Guess they thought I was not an OB case.

I get wheeled over to the ER where I sign more papers and get a new wristband. And thank goodness there wasn't a wait. I went straight into a bed and within 10 minutes I had an IV and was receiving my first dose of Zofran, an anti-nausea medication.

Oh, back up a little bit. Remember those 5 pounds I put on over the course of 5 weeks? Yeah, gone. Well, mostly. I lost 4 lbs of fluid in the space of 6 hours. That's a lot!! Yeah, I was just a little dehydrated.

So back to the ER. Due to the dehydration, my stomach was cramping. Bad. I couldn't even stand up straight. So they added some morphine to my IV cocktail. The nurse did fetal heart tones to make sure the babe was doing okay. 160 bpm and strong.

Eventually the pain subsided, but the nausea didn't. They gave me another dose of Zofran with another big bag of fluid. A few hours later I was still nauseous and hadn't needed to use the bathroom. I sucked down 2 liters of IV fluid without needing to pee. Yeah, I needed those fluids.

They upped my anti-nausea meds to a drug called Phenergan. It's stronger than Zofran and became my new best friend. Then I got an ultrasound to confirm that the babe was safe and not in distress. She hadn't been moving a ton that morning, but I couldn't blame her. Results were finally relayed to me that yes, she was doing just fine.

There was still no way that I could go home. I hadn't eaten in almost 24 hours and I was still sucking down my IV. So the doc admitted me. (or so I thought-a post for another day) They took me up to my room which was a private room with a couch for Earl to sleep on and a big picture window facing the south. Once I was settled, Earl had to hurry home to shower and make it to work for a few hours.

I can't begin to express my gratitude to Earl for how wonderful he was on Tuesday and Wednesday. He usually doesn't do well with bodily functions/fluids and he was a trooper. He helped me before I could ask for help. Just perfect. I couldn't ask for better.

By the time morning rolled around I had gotten a few hours of sleep in between the vitals checks and a blood draw at 3 am. I'd gotten my dose of Phenergan and was feeling pretty good (I was on my 3rd bad of IV fluid) so I asked if I could eat a simple breakfast. I got the okay and was able to keep down a cheese omelet and half a bowl of cream of wheat. Cream of wheat isn't terrible, you just have to make sure to add a lot to it.

The next roller coaster ride was when the nurse told me my potassium level was low. Oh goody. So I got to take meds for that. By noon I still hadn't seen the doctor and I was starting to get anxious to leave. Finally he came in and checked me and we spoke briefly. He gave me the go ahead to go home and I was so excited! The discharge nurse came and took out my IV and I signed the paperwork and I went home!

So in my 30 years on the 3rd rock from the sun, this was my first overnight stay at the hospital. Guess it give me an idea of what things will be like in August. Even with the headache of insurance and waiting, always waiting, I can't wait to go back so that I can meet my little babe for the first time. I don't want her to come early, but I'm so excited to see her face, touch her cheeks, hold her hand, and kiss those little toes.

She is my world. The only reason I went to the hospital on Tuesday was for her. Had I not been pregnant, I would have toughed it out at home. She is the reason I get up in the morning, after all she is sitting on my bladder. But in all seriousness, she is the driving force behind everything I do now. I love her unconditionally and am excited to be her mother.

Thursday, March 13, 2014

My Baby...

Well, she cooperated enough to let us know she's a she!


And we were able to get this shot of her face. She's got my nose (thank goodness!) and that's about all we were able to see. She stayed put for most of the ultrasound, not moving a whole lot. Perhaps she will be a nightowl like her daddy.

Welcome to the family little girl!

Monday, March 10, 2014

The Little Cowpoke

I have a pregnancy journal that my mom gave me. It goes week by week with various prompts to fill in. Makes it a bit easier to record the happenings of life. However, because it goes by weeks, there isn't a spot to record daily what is occurring. For instance, I started feeling the baby move last Monday.

I woke up in the middle of the night Sunday/Monday. I was laying on my back (I know, not supposed to do that) and felt a kind of pressure in my lower right abdomen. Or is it lower left? The side opposite my appendix. Anyway, not only did I feel pressure internally, but I felt a bulge there, externally. It freaked me out!! I almost woke up Earl. But I didn't. Instead I got up to use the restroom, which has become almost a nightly occurrence regardless of how much I drank before bed. When I got back to bed, the bulge was still there and I laid awake for awhile, tossing and turning. Eventually the bulge shifted, I was more comfortable and at ease, and I fell asleep again.

I am able to feel the baby moving around daily now. Sometimes it's just a pressure, other times it's sudden, almost like a kick. Either way, I am grateful for this experience.

The next big thing is that this Thursday I will have my second ultrasound to get a look at the baby's anatomy: heart, brain (I think), other internal organs, and if the baby cooperates, we will know if a little cowgirl or cowboy is coming our way.

People have asked me if I have a feeling, clue, inclination, etc. if the baby is a boy or a girl. I honestly couldn't say. I do have a couple of girl names picked out, but I cannot pick a boy's name. I'm drawing a complete blank. Earl thinks if it's a boy we should name him Godfrey.

I hope he's joking.

Regardless of the sex of the baby, I've decided to do a Western/country theme for the baby. You know, horses, cows, hats, boots, all that stuff. I haven't been able to draw a darn thing yet. Maybe now that I've got a bit more energy and quite a bit less stress at work, I can get the creative juices flowing again.

I have yet to take a "belly picture" and some of my friends are wanting to see it. I do have a belly starting, but sometimes it just looks like I'm a little squishy around the middle. So I'm a little self conscious, mainly because I'm at the in-between stage where my pre-baby clothes are just a little too snug but maternity shirts are just a little too big.

Regardless of how I feel, I know I need to take pictures because one day I will want to see them, and so will my child. So I guess I need to suck it up and do it!

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Update and Thoughts on Pregnancy

So I'm 14 weeks along. and I swear that "pregnancy brain" took effect back around week 6. So While I have a moment on my lunch break, I thought I'd record some things that I have noticed, enjoyed, dislike, whatever in regards to my pregnancy.


  • I am forgetful. Wait, what did I just do 5 minutes ago?
  • I really am a fan of maternity pants. The elastic waistband has become my very good friend.
  • I can't eat steak, hamburgers, or any type of beef by itself. But I can have ground beef in a sauce or part of a meal.
  • I get sick from Reese's Peanut Butter Cups but can eat Reese's Pieces and Nutty Bars
  • When I lay down I don't appear to have a baby bump but when I stand or sit, it is apparent
  • I forgot what I was going to say next
  • I still can't remember
  • hmmm....
  • I am sad on the days that I have to wash my compression socks. I have varicose veins in my right leg (had them since I was 18) and never had any type of issue with it (other than it being really ugly) until I was pregnant. Now my leg hurts and itches at night and the morning after if I don't wear the socks. Gosh, it's like I'm old and falling apart! 
  • I am almost always tired
  • I haven't had a real craving for sweets until we bought Girl Scout Cookies. Now all I want are Thin Mints....
In other news, I had my first ultrasound last week. It wasn't planned, I went in to the doctor because I'd been experiencing moderate to severe abdominal pain last week. It didn't let up (still hasn't) so I went in. Anyway, so now that I've seen our little baby, everything has become a lot clearer, more important, and holy cow, there's going to be a baby this summer! The ultrasound tech said that the baby is measuring about 1 week ahead. Woohoo! I have an over achiever already! 


These are the best pictures. The top one is the baby's face. I think my child looks like an alien in this one. The second picture highlights the baby's long legs and big feet. Okay, I can't think about how long this baby will be. Ow...not fun...

So I think that's it. I can't remember much else. What was this post about again?

Wednesday, January 22, 2014

Death and Taxes

(I preface this post that it is snarky and political. Read at your own risk)

Well, not death, but certainly taxes.

Is anyone else getting screwed by taxes this year? Earl and I combined made not even $100 in 2013 than we did in 2012. Yet this year we owe. Like, just over $300. Are you kidding me? When I added my W2 for my current job, we were still getting a refund, about $400, roughly. Then I added my W2 for the 5 months I worked at Sport Chalet and brought home 6k. That caused us to lose the $400 return and owe over $300!! Seriously??? So by adding that information in, it was a difference of -$700. How on earth is that right?

So, we're having a baby this year and have to pay for everything that goes with it: doctor's and hospital bills, clothes, diapers, crib, all the "equipment" that a tiny human requires, and we are expected to pay the federal government over $300 too? So that money will cover what, one congressman's new tie? It sure ain't going to pay a soldier or his/her family. Or is this going to go towards another government shutdown? Perhaps it will go towards someone else's birth control under Obamacare?

I pay my taxes every week out of my check. I don't have a choice. But I pay them. Earl pays his. We scrape by with the little we have left and make it work. And now, after 12 years of working and paying my taxes and being a "good" citizen, I have to pay? I want to know what my tax dollars are going to. Don't you? I guess when you have a government who can't agree on a budget must collect money from everyone in order to keep spending. They sure as heck haven't cut spending. That's what we do in my family when there is a decrease of income. You start to cut the "fluff" like meals out. Cable/satellite TV. You start to figure out "wants" vs "needs" and you sort it out pretty quickly.

So, while I am BEYOND frustrated over this turn of events, I just want to say this to our current government:

Thank you for making it more difficult for us to provide for our baby. I guess you just want more people on welfare so that you will continue to receive those votes.

Thank you for pushing us down when we were hoping to move into a place with more space and room, since our family is growing.

Thank you for making me more stressed out when this is supposed to be a happy and joyful time in my life. Especially after I waited years for the opportunity to become a mother.

Thank you for stunting the growth of America. This country isn't driven by capitalism, small business, or people trying to live the American Dream. This country has become a nation of people headed straight for poverty by the government that is supposed to support and encourage growth, advancement, and the achievement of that American Dream.

The "Dream" has been diminished to "...if we can make it til next payday..." and no longer putting money away for a rainy day.

Thank you for encouraging me to give up hope, to concede defeat in this life. I obviously cannot "get ahead" when I was planning on using that tax refund to help us become debt free. What a concept for this government! Debt free? What is that??? What does it mean? When you have a guaranteed six figure salary with benefits, you don't worry so much about debt. When your annual income is quite a bit less, debt is a constant worry.

So I guess this post is about death and taxes. Death of the American Dream. That's what I am faced with today.

Too bad we can't even pay for the funeral. Is there a government program that will cover that cost?