It's been a month...

And boy have things changed, but the reality of the matter is that I have a daughter in my life now. Point blank. Now it's not about me, but her...
But that doesn't mean Im gone...
I'm still here and it's been a struggle dealing with things surrounding that.
In this months time I've realized a lot of things about my life
I don't have as many close friends as I thought I did
My father is a jerk
I still struggle with depression...

Surprise!! She's Arrived!!

Ok, so I know I'm like hella late, but good news........... [insert drum roll]

SHE'S HERE!! Olivia Willow Leiva

My beautiful sweetness entered this world on August 15, 2012 at approximately 8:04 am.
The most gorgeous thing I've ever laid my eyes on, I swear.

Now I bet you're wondering "What the hell happened??!!" Well it's quite complicated. I actually started writing several post during the midst of all the commotion but before I knew it I was being swopped into the hospital so they never got posted.

It was the afternoon of my 37th week that I found out that I had to be induced because the test came back and she wasn't growing. They also found that her blood flow was selectively going to her brain, which is normally a signal that something is wrong. So the doctors advised I go back home, get my stuff together and return to the hospital that night to have the baby. Unfortunately as soon as I got home (about an hour later) I received a message from my midwife stating that after she looked at the results I should've been immediately admitted to the hospital.
Of course I was devastated because not only did that mean that I was no longer going to be able to have my water birth, I was going to give birth in a hospital, under super stress levels. Definitely not what I wanted my daughter to come into the world to.
However, I knew that I had to do as they said because they were the only ones who could legitimately tell if something had cause to worry about. So I rushed through the house like a tornado on Red Bull and packed my bag (which I hadn't even thought about until this point) and got myself together.
Thankfully my boyfriend was with me the entire time. I couldn't have done ANYTHING without him.
We made it to the hospital at 7pm. I got registered then hooked up to the monitor. At first they were concerned about her heart rate, but within minutes she improved so they decided that they would induce me with Pitocin.
I was moved to another room and told to get settled. I had to mentally prepare myself for labor because deep down in my heart I wasn't ready, but I wanted to make sure she was ok, have her in my arms and begin the life long journey that these 9 months had set me on a path towards.
They broke my water, and set me up on the pitocin drops. Within minutes of starting the pitocin I began to have contractions 2 minutes apart. They only felt like slightly more forceful menstrual cramps so I felt confident that I could take them on. Every half an hour my midwife came in to check on my dilation, I was getting there, but not very fast.
Within no time the pain became almost unbearable, but I knew it was only the beginning so I didn't complain, just held onto anything nearby with each contraction. After some time my midwife came in with a concerned look on her face. It seemed as if I wasn't getting far in dilation and Olivia was having a hard time with the labor. There didn't seem to be enough amniotic fluid in the womb so she was getting squished with each contraction, and even though she was a trouper, she may not be able to hold on for much longer. My midwife explained to me that I was tensing up with the contractions so I wasn't making much progress. And both Oli and I had reached a point where we were tiring out, so I wasn't breathing with the contractions and Olivia moved back up after each of them. She advised that I try and epidural to take some of the pressure off and to allow the contractions to do their job.
Although I had promised myself that I would go au natural with no drugs I listend to all the advise and decided that it might be best that way. They told me that I would still be able to push and I'd be able to feel it, just without as much pain. By that point my entire body was shaking constantly and the contractions were wrecking havoc on me. All I wanted to do was push her out. I wanted her in my arms already, and I figured if they're telling me so, then maybe just maybe the epidural will get me to that point faster.
Unfortunately I was right and wrong. She did come out faster, but she wasn't in my arms and she didn't come out the way I wanted her to.
After the epidural Olivia's heart rate decreased to a scary rate, so they had to take me off the pitocin. Unfortunately my body wasn't very good at labor so I went from contractions every 2 minutes to ones every 10. To top it off I went from 5 almost 6 centimeters to 4 centimeters. It was no bueno. I was frustrated, tired, and so so scared. Again, if it wasn't for L I wouldn't have gotten through it.
After a close encounter with her heart rate dropping to an all time low. I decided to ask if I could push or what were my other options. My doctor came in and after checking how far dilated I was, and looking at Olivia's heart rate, told me that I would need to have an emergency Cesarean section.
This was like an atomic bomb for me, because it was on my forbidden list. I absolutely did not want a c section. But the situation was looking dire, and my daughter's health and safety meant more to me than my preferences. So between tears and a numb, shaking body, I agreed and was swopped away into the operating room within 10 minutes.
I was so scared. 1, because I couldn't feel anything (at all) and 2, because I didn't know if she'd make it or not. All I wanted was to hear her cry... and when I did it was the most beautiful thing ever. She was born 3 pounds 13 ounces. A tiny little thing, with a cry that sounded like a quack. I'll never forget that moment.
Again, unfortunately she got swopped away from me straight into the NICU (neonatal intensive care unit) I didn't get to hold her. I didn't get to see her except for a glimpse. I didn't get to feed her.
I felt as if I did nothing.
I was blessed and ever so grateful that she was ok and from the immediate readings healthy, but THe experience was nothing like I imaged, hoped for or even asked for. I was heartbroken.
Yet, within moments I was drugged up some more and sent to recuperate. Which was more painful than I could've ever thought.
Those stapels were hell, I couldn't breathe right, eat right, sleep right, laugh, cry, pee right. The whole nine yards. I don't think I could've ever imagined that type of pain. It was ridiculous.
So extremely long story short. After spending a week in the hospital I was able to take her home with me.
It's been 3 weeks and my life has changed drastically. I love her to pieces. And my love grows each and every day. She's absolutely amazing. I still can't believe I'm a mother and I have a daughter. It is truly an amazing feeling.

Let's hope that things will only get better from here on out.  

Not enough time

We're 37 weeks today. Under normal and possibly average circumstance this would be great, awesome feat. Full term, only 3 more weeks to go. Seems like perfect time right? But for me.. eh. Complications have risen. After a normal visit to see my midwife they found the baby was too small. After a non stress test and a sonogram it was confirmed that she's in the lower third precentile. She's only 4 lbs. At first I was confused. I felt like three weeks is enough time to make it to 6 lbs, and 6 lbs was a good size. I was 6 lbs and so was my little brother. I felt that it was normal. But the doctor was still concerned. She did more test and found some oddity in the cord blood pulse. "Elevated levels" (i have no idea what that truly means, but it sounds intimidating...) So now, they're looking to deliver next week.
I no longer have enough time.
Im scared and upset and worried.
I promised myself and her that wouldn't bring her home to this medial ass apartment we now reside in. I'd have a earth shattering coniption if i found mouse poop on her belongings.
Im not prepared.
We have virtually nothing for her. I hope this baby shower turns out to be lucrative, i don't even have the basics.
Im freaking out.
I don't know how to deal with it.
I feel so alone.
It's like everyone in my life finds this news passable. Ok.
I find it unacceptable. Definitely not ok.
What the hell is wrong with my womb that she's safer outside of it?? That's what it feels like the doctor is telling me. I know she doesn't want me to break down in a waterfall of tears so she had to have been putting it lightly.

Next Steps

I'm now 36 weeks pregnant! Almost there 4 weeks to go. I'm excited and scared and all sorts of mumbo jumbo feelings. It's crazy that in no time (25 days) i'll get to meet this little creation of L and i. I can't wait, but at the same time I wish I had more time. I'm not ready, in so many ways. Most importantly financially. I really do wish we haed our own place. Dealing with family is so stressful and complicated. :?

Frustration

I feel like exploding. It's tough to put it into words. Im just so frustrated. I don't feel comfortable, and it's frustrating. I feel nomadic, during a time when I should be nesting. Sleep comes hard, with nightmares and peeing leading the way to a restless night. Not to mention the variety of uncomfortable venues I have available for me to sleep in. I'm stressed and it's wearing me thin. And all I know how to do is pretend. Pretend like everything is ok, and I'm strong enough... Even though it feels like I'm no where near strong enough. But of course I can't afford to be weak now... I watch the sun rise on a short lived night of pretending to sleep. In my dream my body was brusied and beaten, must've been from a physical manifestation of the emotional toll my body is taking. Something that's becoming harder and harder to hide. I wish I had a mommy. Don't get me wrong, I have a mother, who is, in her own way "supportive". But her "support" can be just as destructive as a hurrican wind. It's confusing and comes with a price. I cry silently as time flies by, I've been up since 5. I see a terse day ahead of me. But I have no known solution for it. I guess I'll just continue pretending... I hate it, but it's the only way I know how to cope.
I realized, I don't know what I'm doing. And what I need to do, isn't something that can be easily learned on your own. It takes guidance. I feel as if I have none. Yes, there are people in my life. There is support. But there is no guidance.
There is a big difference between the two.
I feel as though all I have are judgements and unempathetic head nodding. "I understand but I don't know"s. And "I will cast upon you my miscontrewed opinion of what I believe you should do or think"s. Most of comes across as condeming, so I feel I'm better off pretending. It hurts much less in the midst of the moment. But of course I can't pretend forever, I'm running out of time. And I hate pretending anyway, it requires too much energy.
It's all a lie, and I hate lying. But I don't know any other way to confront everything. I feel so alone. I know I'm not. I still have the ability to think realistically and sensically, doesn't mean my emotions are logical. That plus the hormones, just make me feel like a wreck. I feel terrible. And weak. I wish I could explain it better.
Will I ever be able to sleep again?
My brain is a destructive pathway filled with way too much subconcious.
You know, I feel like it would be rude to say "I'm not ok..." When someone asked me, how I was doing.
Now when my pretending skills have worn away I just remark that I'm tired. And people always assume it's just pregnancy when in reality it's life. Life is tiring me out. Emotions are striping me weak. And again not pregnancy, not hormones. Real, justifiable, uncontrollable, surpressed emotions.
So no, I'm not ok... Just tired.
At this rate I will have lost a total of 4 and a half hours of sleep.
I'm gonna regret that by the time I step into work.
I don't really feel like going in, but I have no where else I feel like going. Plus I desperatly need the money, even though it'll disappear faster than a shooting star.
I don't know, maybe I'll try to squeeze in an hour... I don't want to face the day.

Back on Track

So in the good news arena, I'm finally back on track!

• I finished my film!
• My boyfriend got a new job!
• And we're on our way to getting more baby stuff!

I'm really excited about everything. There's still a lot to worry about but I have a really good feeling that it'll all work out. 

The Worries

I seem to have that case of the worries. Problem is my worries are large and severely justified. It's quite a dilemma. Not only do I have those regular worries that are problematic for mommy-to-be's, but I have these major-real life-hard to fix-what the hell am i going to do worries that leave me in a depressed stupor.
I'm now 8 months 1 month away gestation, but techincally 2 months away birth. :o no matter how you look at it though, i'm still running out of time. And quickly at that.

1. I have no nursery.
2. I don't really have a place at all. (I didn't want to be moving after Olivia's birth and the apartment we're in now is severely inadequate)
3. My boyfriend just lost his job. 
4. Mine isn't cutting it on it's own.
5. Actually even before that, both our jobs wasn't cutting it...
6. We have little to nothing for Olivia
7. No crib, not even a pack n play, not much going on in the clothes dept, and nowhere-near enough diapers. Like i said we don't have a nursery, and nothing that supposed to go in it.

Im at a loss for what to do. This is a hurdle that is looking hard to pass. :/
These worries along with whether or not i'll survive an all natural birth are killing me. All i can say simply is "I don't know"
I don't even think I can muster up a positive thought process.
I don't think I have anymore: " I can do this." And "We'll figure it out."s. They're just no longer there. Metaphors are wanning in there ability to positively effect reality. I feel like crap, my boyfriend feels like crap, but at least the baby is happily excited to come out when her time is near. So excited in fact, that I'm worried she won't give me those full two months that I so awfully need. And she's so tiny. I always worry.
Worry, worry, worry. Those darn worries. They make me miserable, but what makes it worse is they're truth. Or rather their lacking in an answer to their enigmatic question.
I guess all I really have left is hope and trust in myself and my boyfriend that we'll pull through. Somehow someway. I must stop putting negative thoughts out there even if I don't have positive one's to replace them. Something's gotta give, because something always does.