Long Time, No Update.

Life got crazy on me, so I haven't been around much to post anything, really.

Remember me talking about my pregnant BFF? The one who was due about ten weeks after I should have been (right around Thanksgiving)?

Her water broke on September 24th. They kept her in the hospital, and put her on a magnesium drip to try to keep the baby inside until she hit 34 weeks (which should have been the end of the week).

On the 30th, BoyWonder and I were in KCMO on a mini-vacation. I got the call around nine that morning from another friend that she was in full-on labor. Forty-five minutes later, I got the call that he's out, they're both doing great.

So, without further ado, I'd like to introduce you to Baby Derrick.

At birth, he was at 32w2d. 

He weighed 3 lbs, 8 oz, and was 17 inches long. 

He's been breathing on his own, growing like a tiny little weed, and is finally starting to get the hang of eating from a bottle (and, eventually, from a boob). 

Kid is amazing. And, from what BFF's doctor says, probably would have been well over ten pounds if she'd carried him to term. 

I've been going to visit a few times a week, for moral support for BFF (her husband works out of town for four days at a time), and to love on this tiny, amazing baby. 

I kind of thought I'd struggle with this more than I have. I keep thinking, in the back of my mind, that my baby would probably have only been a week or two older then Derrick, but it's not as painful as I thought it would be. I don't really have any sadness attached to the thoughts. Just... Knowing. And, occasionally, wondering if my baby decided to live with BFF instead, although the rational part of my brain knows that that's crazy talk. 

Other Updates: 

I'm still waiting to schedule my surgery. I finally ovulated, so that's a start. I was really afraid that this would end up being another 57-day cycle and I wouldn't have surgery until November... But my best guess at this point is that surgery will probably be either late next week, or early the week of Halloween (so I can be bloated and miserable during my favorite week of the year... Hooray!). 

We still don't know if we'll continue with treatments after surgery. BoyWonder doesn't really want to. I go back and forth. On the one hand, if they find and fix something, I feel like we should do at least one more IUI just to feel like we gave it a shot. On the other hand, all the side-effects have finally lifted and I feel fucking incredible. It's weird, but I never realized how horrible I felt until I started feeling better. Good, even. No hot flashes, no teenager-acne-on-steroids, no wishing I could kill BoyWonder while he sleeps... Okay, that last one was a little overdramatic, but you know what I mean. 

And I think I've decided what I'm going to do with my life. While being a doula would be incredible, it's not something I could live off of, especially in Kansas where there really just isn't the business to make it a full-time gig. 

After we get my surgery done, I'm going to file for financial aid, talk to some advisors, and start taking the prerequisite courses to (hopefully) get accepted into the nursing program next fall. I'm terrified. Not of the nursing. More of how much work it's going to be. How hard I'm going to have to push myself to get it done. How much time and money it's going to take to get me to my goal, which is to become a Certified Nurse Midwife by the time I'm 32 (unless I actually have a baby. I'm guessing that will delay things a bit). 

But you know what? Since I made the decision, I've felt an overwhelming sense of peace within myself. Like I'm making the right choice. And, for the first time in my entire life, I feel like I'm pursuing what I was meant to do. 

Now, all I have to do is do it.