Now Re-introducing: Original Recipe Destiny

One of the first lessons my dear parents had to help me understand and accept when I got my first job is that not everyone is going to like me and that's fine and I still have to find a way to work with them and do my job well.  That was a hard lesson even for someone like me who did not have a massive group of close friends.  The hardest part was finding a way to work with and be pleasant to those who just simply had no use for me as a human being.  And I thought I had learned that lesson; I really truly thought I was doing well with it.  6 years at a grocery store will teach you quite a lot about people (and on some days leave you thinking the zombie apocalypse would be a good thing for humanity).  However, for better or worse, I am being given an opportunity to better learn that lesson lately. 

One of my biggest struggles is being concerned with what others think of me.  And not the just important others like my hubby or parents.  All others.  I have struggled my entire life with being very concerned about what everyone thinks of me and whether they like me or not.  Being with Jay has helped me become more of myself.  I believe that if my four year old self saw me pre-Jay Heininger, she would have been horrified.  But post-Jay Heininger, she would be pleased with how I've turned out.  But I still have those insecurities of wanting, nay needing, approval from all around me.  At my job, I have a co-worker who I believed to be kind of a friend.  Not like a hanging out on weekends friend, but a friendly at work friend.  She is a few years younger than my mom and has three kids so after I told everyone about being pregnant she had stories about her own pregnancies and kids when they were babies.  I thought things were good.  Now, granted she thinks I'm weird (and she's right) and there are topics I avoid with her and I even try to curb my vocabulary a bit (this is at work in general, though) but we were friends, right?  Turns out, not so right.  During some recent changes, she told our boss exactly what she thinks of me.  She feels I am condescending, impossible to work with, unhelpful, and generally hard to get along with and since I am pregnant if any lay offs need to happen I should be the first to lose my job.  *reels from kick to gut*  Ouch.  Unexpected.  *checks mirror for knife in back*  Right, deep breaths.  That stung.  But I believe in the truth.  I believe in knowing the truth no matter now much it hurts.  And if that is the truth about what she thinks of me, then I feel I am better knowing it.  But still, ouch.

So after spending some tearful soul searching and prayer yesterday on my drive home (my favorite time to pray and cry, if I need to), I think I am making peace with all of that.  She is entitled to her opinion about me.  Obviously my trying to get her to like me and be friends is not really working so I will stop that.  Not that I will stop being nice, no, no my mother taught me better than that.  What goes around, comes around, people, and I want niceness to come back at me.  I will just stop trying to alter myself to what I think she wants.  She gets original recipe Destiny; non-diluted Destiny; Destiny now without artificial colors or flavors.  And I think it's going to be fun.  On my end at least ;)  I do still need to work on (and pray about) my tendency to be bitter about what she said to the boss.  I have a vindictive streak that makes me extra mouthy that is not pretty.  And I will conquer that.  I will be pleasant and peaceful and goofy and happy and curious and, darn it, I will use four-dollar words a will because I read a lot and I know what they mean.  I have been given Grace and that means I can give grace to others and let them just be and forgive them for being just as not perfect as I am. 

This is all made easier by the fact that my now apple-sized babies have stopped parasitically sucking all my energy away.  I am still a teary mess at times and battling some nausea, especially when hungry, but I no longer want to take a nap every two hours. 

Well, that's all from me today.  Thank you for reading all of this.  And for obviously accepting me, big words and all.  I will leave you with two of my favorite little sayings, from my desk at work.

"Do not let the behavious of others destroy your inner peace."

and

"Anybody remotely interesting is mad, in some way or another."

Squirming Lemons

Second trimester!  I hit 14weeks yesterday making me officially in my second trimester.  I told Jay yesterday that it makes me like officially pregnant with real babies.  We are past the first trimester where people still hold their breath and hope nothing happens and safe and growing.  I almost can't wrap my mind around being that pregnant.  I am officially in maternity clothes, well pants at least.  I can still wear my stretchy yoga pants to work but if I want denim, preggo pants it is.  Jay and I can tell how my belly is changing shape and sticking out a bit more, but to the casual observer I probably just look like I've had a big meal.  And at 14 weeks, the babies are the size of lemons.  I get such a kick out of comparing their sizes to food.  So this week, we are lemons and learning facial expressions and we can pee.  Say what you will about me being happy for my peeing lemons, but these are big deals for us.  

We had an ultrasound yesterday because we have a wonderful doctor who wanted to see for certain (read: reassure freaked out first time parents) both little heartbeats.  He tried to get them with the office Doppler (actually Dopplers, plural, he was trying to hear them both at the same time) but, as we learned, that is very hard with them being so little and moving so much.  And moving they are!  At the ultrasound, that is the thing I was most struck by.  The last time we saw them at nine weeks they moved a bit and you could see little flippers/future arms and legs move.  But this time, they were like little people.  Arms and legs stretching and moving and flailing about, turning around and flipping over.  At one point Baby B literally spun in place; we could see the little top of baby's head spin around.  Baby B was good for the US tech.  She (the tech) was able to get head measurements, belly measurements, and femur measurements without too much trouble, only quite a bit of squirming and ninja moves.  Baby A, on the other hand, is definitely my child.  This baby was comfortable and not willing to move.  Oh, contrary baby showed off with legs moving and kicking and arms stretching out in front so the tech got belly measurements and femur measurements, but that head shot was not in the cards.  The tech leaned the table back so the blood rushed to my head, flipped me onto my left side, then my right and still Baby A would not move so she could get that head measurement.  Well, I take that back.  Baby A did move but this child went from pressing a head up against the membrane between the babies to flipping over and pressing a head to the side of my uterus.  See why I say this is definitely a child of mine and Jay's?  The tech even got the radiologist who told her that skipping that measurement would be better than making do with a side (or trans) measurement that would skew the growth measurement results.  So she took lots of pictures of Baby A's face to show that it was our stubborn child's fault that she couldn't get her measurements.  

But she got us some neat pictures of our alien babies.  I know that may offend some, but be honest people.  At this age, a face picture of a baby looks like an alien.  Cute, miraculous, amazing aliens, I'll grant you, but aliens none the less.  And one of the pics of Baby B shows the child in mid fist pump, probably because the US was about over.  Having that thing pressed on my belly for so long was uncomfortable for me, so I can only imagine my affronted children were tired of having their warm, watery home poked and prodded.  

Father's Day is this weekend and I am so proud that my husband gets to join in this year.  Pride seems and odd emotion to have about it but I am proud.  Proud of him, this wonderful man I married and am creating life with.  Proud that I get to carry his children, that I get to be, for a little while, the home for his reasons for Father's Day.  It's weird, to point out to Jay that it's his day, too,  after so long of just thinking of my dad and his, but probably no more weird that it was for him to point out that this past Mother's Day was a bit for me, too.  So (because he reads this) Happy Father's Day, Jay.  I would never have the courage to make it through this adventure without you.

Grown-upi-ness

Every so often it hits me and I look around or at Jay and say something to the effect of: "This is like real grown up stuff."  Like going to a home improvement store and buying paint and room molding.  And then using said paint and molding to completely transform a room.  (Side note: how neat is it that you can transform a room with a new color?)  Jay and I will be giving up our long upstairs bedroom for the front bedroom downstairs in our house.  It is to the left of the bathroom (proximity to that room is important these days) and is across the hall from what will be the babies' room.  Giving up that upstairs spot was kind of grown up because neither of us really wanted to.  It is a cool room.  The dimensions are something like 13feet by 42feet and the walls are slanted with the roof giving it this cave/den/hideout effect.  But it is too far away from the bathroom, will be too far away from the babies, and Jay has valid concerns about his soon to be heavily pregnant wife navigating the rather steep stairs.  So we are grown ups and move downstairs.  We painted the room a lovely deep royal blue color and I think I'm going to like it.

Another grown up endeavor I have recently undertaken is my goal to become good at freezer meals.  My dearest friend swears by them.  She goes on a mad cooking spree every so often and stocks their freezer with lots of yummy soups and casseroles and other goodies and then gets to relax some nights while supper defrosts in the fridge awaiting baking or heating up.  I made one of those casseroles for supper two nights ago and made a second one at the same time to freeze.  I have this grand Idea that I will continue doing that for several weeks and then by the time I really start to show I will have supper waiting for me in our deep freeze.  When those run out, I have another Grander Idea that I will go on my own cooking spree (most probably with my beloved mommy's help) and prep for being unable to cook or too busy with babies by filling our freezer yet again.  Only time will tell how these theories will work out.  I have hope for them.

Today I am 12 weeks pregnant.  That's like three months in normal people terms (when pregnant and, as I have noticed, a new parent your life seems to get broken down into weeks; its not quite normal).  Which is almost, very nearly a long time.  I can't help but think back to sitting in the ER with a diagnosis paper reading "Threatened Miscarriage" and thinking that getting to 12 weeks when they might be safer was impossible because it was an eternity away.  And now its here.  I'm in my last week of my first trimester with no current complications, no spotting for like three weeks (light as it was), and feeling pretty dern pregnant.  For those who say God doesn't to miracles like He used to back in the day, I would like to politely disagree and enter Heininger Exhibits A and B.  This may not be a miracle to some but it is the most amazing miracle I have ever witnessed, even overtaking being given the chance to marry Jay. 

My symptoms are manageable.  The nausea is only hard to deal with in the morning and when I'm hungry.  The tension headaches are becoming quite bothersome but I will live, especially once I learn how better to sleep in this new body that is being invaded by welcome and beloved human parasites.  Emotionally, I feel something akin to a mine cart that someone has broken the brake handle off of (thank you to those of you who flashed an Indiana Jones movie pic in your mind, you are my favorites).  I've not had the angry mood swings (unless hungry, I will admit) but I have developed the ability to go from rational to gasping, lip-quivering, tear-drenching sobs.  Honestly, its like a superpower its so powerful, albeit the worst superpower ever.  And often, there is no trigger for these fits of tears.  I just lose my ever-loving mind for a short while and then recover a few minutes later.  Heaven-help Jay if it gets any worse.  He may need medication. 

But that's about it.  We should be in our new bedroom, hopefully, this weekend and then we start some hardcore cleaning out our junk from the kiddos' room.  We are enjoying this front row seat to the biggest miracle/roller coaster/acid trip we have ever been near let alone a part of.  Maybe, just maybe, being a grown up isn't totally lame after all.