Nearly 6 Months Later…My How Things Have Changed!

I was reminded this morning when I logged into my yahoo account that this blog existed and was in terrible need of updating.  My most sincere apologies to those who follow this, and I will try my hardest to keep this more up to date!

Let’s see. My last post was 4 days before my husband Joe left for his deployment…that would be the same day that I found out that I was pregnant…again! Yep, 4 days before my husband left for an 8-9 month deployment we found out we are expecting another bundle of joy. I am going to be honest here and say that we were supposed to be done at 2 kids. 2 boys! When I read the pregnancy test and went crying out to Joe about the injustice of life, I was completely serious! I didn’t want another kid, unless it was a girl of course. We were nice and settled in our little family. Our kids sleep through the night, they respond to basic commands, eat grown-up food (for the most part). To add another baby to the mix would throw off the dynamic.

Well, 4 shell-shocked days later, Joe got on a plane headed for war torn locales and I was left 5 weeks pregnant with a 5 and 2 year old. Can you talk about a rude awakening? We were moving into summer time and my morning sickness was in full force. Right now I can’t really tell you how I made it through the first 3 months with both kids home and begging for stimulation and attention…and me barely able to lift my head from the toilet and fix them breakfast. There is probably some sort of post traumatic stress trigger that will bring it all back in a few years. But we did it. We made it through a hot and muggy Virginia summer with minimal bloodshed.

In the beginning of August I opted to do a 3d ultrasound to determine the sex of the new baby. I was seeing pink…I assumed after 2 boys that I would be blessed with a beautiful baby girl. I went into the ultrasound with the serene smile of a mother in the know and walked out fighting back tears. You guessed it, another boy. Now I have had almost 3 months to come to terms with another boy and I think I am doing well. We have decided on a name, a family member had a boy less than a year ago so we have tons of new clothes for him. I have resigned myself to the fact that I will be the only female in my house. So long as everyone is happy and healthy.

Due to the new addition, the military is moving us into a 4 bedroom house in a neighborhood down the street. We move on Halloween. So on top of being nearly 7 months pregnant, my house is boxed up and somehow I am going to have to figure out how to dig up the satellite dish so housing doesn’t have a panic attack. My husband doesn’t come home until either right before or right after the baby comes (we still don’t have a firm homecoming date). You can say life took a hard left turn…or right turn…whichever your fancy, but being the military family that we are we are dealing with it the best we can.

If anyone is still reading this, I am so sorry I stopped blogging for a while but as I have been writing this I have realized that really is a good outlet. Especially for someone who only talks to children all day and spends her nights worried sick about her husband.

The Joys of Tricare

Let’s discuss the lovely healthcare system of the United States Armed Forces, also known as Tricare. Tricare Prime in our family. Disclaimer: I am NOT bashing the fact that I get free, usually quality healthcare! Just putting that out there. I just might be bashing the logistics of said system.

When my husband was a stationed at Camp Lejeune, NC, he worked at the Naval Hospital. This was our first duty station so he was fresh out of boot camp and A-School (job training), and was just pretty much a huge newbie to the Navy scene. So they slapped him into night shift work at the hospital on base. Not his first pick on how to spend 2 years in the military, but what can you do? Gotta pay your dues somehow.

This was my first experience with being a military spouse in general. We had gotten married 2 weeks before we moved from Chicago to N.C. We get signed up for Tricare, my oldest son and I. Things are great, we are learning about our new locale, getting to know the local Walmart (pretty much the hottest spot in Jacksonville, N.C.), and then BAM! I found out I was pregnant. Called the OB-GYN clinic and told them I had a positive pregnancy test. They told me I have to come in and take a “military issued test”. I say ok and drive up to pee on a stick that looked exactly like the First Response I peed on the day before. Lo and behold, the military says I am pregnant. Fine. This is in May, they can’t fit me into OB-GYN until January. January is when my new fetus is due to make its debut. So they send me to Family Medicine. I get my first appointment in July. That’s a lot of waiting for a pregnant lady.

My pregnancy was slightly high risk towards the end. The baby wanted to come out, the doctors didn’t want him too…Premature labor was put under control  and my actual birth experience was not too shabby. This was the first time having a baby in a military facility and I had heard horror story after horror story. Still do actually. The only disheartening thing was the corpsman who was brought in to start my IV. Turns out he was buddies with my husband (they had gone to Corps School together) and instead of paying attention to the elephant sized, panting pregnant woman that he was supposed to be “professionally” sticking, he was joking around with Joe about their times in Chicago and how “fucked up” they used to get. While I had the upmost faith in my own husband, this guy was stressing me out so bad that the nurse came in to see why my heartbeat was off the charts.

Immature corpsmen aside, my experience with Lejeune wasn’t too bad. It wasn’t until we moved here to Norfolk that Tricare and I have become foes in this crazy healthcare battle. Now if you have ever been to the Hampton Roads area you know how congested it is, and how full of military it is. It’s out of control. There are all sorts of bases here. Tricare set me and the boys up at Langley AFB which is about 30 minutes away and through a tunnel. Again, if you know Norfolk you know to avoid tunnels at all costs. The traffic here is painful at best. Naturally, aside from necessary appointments, I self medicate at home and avoid going at all costs.

Unfortunately, this week I have received a lovely present from my husband (who is conveniently absent in the field)…a cold which morphed into the worst sinus infection I have ever had. So I suck it up, call the appointment line and attempt to get seen so I can snag some antibiotics.

Me: Hi, I have a sinus infection and would like to see my doctor.

Operator: We’re sorry, there are no appointments available until next week.

Me: I will probably be dead next week, are you sure you can’t fit me in?

Operator: Ma’am, if there were appointments open, I would give you one. I do apologize.

Right, not getting an appointment at the doctors. They suggested that I go to the emergency room at Portsmouth Naval. Hah, not likely with two young children and a husband who is playing war games in some field…It would seem that free healthcare does have a price tag; although at least I can say that I have it!

Blog Stats

  • 1,423 hits