Adventures in the Department of Children and Families

I have been in the process of applying for Medicaid, which is unfortunately a necessity in order to be able to afford hospital bills with junior. We are hoping that we don't have to use public assistance with Junior # 2.

Anyway, I have been stressed out because I did not understand how difficult and painful this process can be. First, I went online, as per instruction, to download and print a PDF of the form I had to fill out, which included our income, SSN, address, age, etc. Then, I had to go to a non-profit health center to pee in a cup and get a piece of paper signed by a doctor that I am, indeed, pregnant. I printed off paystubs, packed my filled-out form, birth certificate, marriage license, and every other document I could imagine that proved that I am who I say I am and headed off to the Department of Children and Families (a.k.a., DCF).

Now, we are all familiar with the DMV. Everyone has to go to the DMV. It is a frustration of waiting, of long lines, coughing people, and whatnot. The DMV is a cake walk compared to the DCF. First of all, the people who work there did not turn down jobs at NASA in order to be there. I'm sure there was a system for when they would help and who they would help next and how to properly apply for your selected type of assistance, but such a system was a mystery to me. Anyway, I jumped ahead, so let me back up.

I walked up to the desk with all my paper work in my fancy folder. I asked, "Hello, I need to apply for Medicaid for my pregnancy. Where do I need to go?"

"Did you already fill out your application?"

"Yes, here it is."

She does not even look at it. "No, the online application."

"What online application?"

"The one you where supposed to fill out."

"The DCF website only had this PDF, so I printed it and filled it out and here it is."

"You have to go online and fill out the application."

"Ok, can I do that here?"

"Yes. Then, when you are done, put your proof of pregnancy and a copy of your driver's license in that drop box." Here she indicates to a suspicious looking box with a hand-written sign that says "Drop box."

Oh brother.

So, I got myself a computer in their little computer lab and spent thirty minutes doing something next to an illiterate, coughing man who needed a DCF assistant to walk him through every step of the process that I could have done in my own bedroom at home. (When I picture how it could have been, I'm usually drinking hot chocolate while Adam rubs my shoulders and tells me I'm pretty, smart, and industrious.)

I finished up, sanitized my hands, and went to the desk again to make sure I knew exactly what was supposed to go into that little box. Proof of pregnancy, driver's license, AND social security number? Ok, but now I'm suspicious because just a minute ago she said only Proof of pregnancy and driver's license. Do these people really know what they're doing? I make copies of everything, fighting for the machine with an Eastern European couple. I put my documents in the drop box that was about as official-looking as a shoebox and scurried my way out of there as fast as I could.

This Friday (the 20th), I got a letter that said that I had to send in my paystubs by today (the 23rd), or my application would be rejected. Because they were so clear about how I was also supposed to put copies of my paystubs in the box, and what fool wouldn't know that that's what they meant when they said proof of pregnancy, driver's license, and social security number?

So I faxed them on Saturday and started to call the number to see if anyone was there to check on their arrival.

An automatic message picked up. "Welcome to the Department of Children and Families help menu. For faster service, please enter your social security number or access code now. For general information, press the 'pound' key."

"6****..."

"I'm sorry, I didn't understand that. For faster service, please enter your social security number or access code now. For general information, press the 'pound' key."

"6*****..."

"I'm sorry, I didn't understand that. For faster service, please enter your social security number or access code now. For general information, press the 'pound' key."

"#. ##. ######."

"I'm sorry, I didn't understand that. For faster service, please enter your social security number or access code now. For general information, press the 'pound' key."

Here I hung up as forcefully as one can on a cell phone.

I decided to go online and check my status there, because I'm supposed to be able to. I got routed to a registration page where I had to enter my name, date of birth, and zip code. That's all I had to enter. I got an error message that the information I entered did not match up with what they had on file. So, either my name, my birthday, or my zip code is wrong. Or maybe they are just a Department of Incompetent Morons and Second-rate Technology.

I got about 5 hours of sleep last night because I kept waking up thinking about this. I'm about to fax them and then call them again. Wish me luck.

*UPDATE*

I faxed, which the computer says was successful. I called. "Due to high call volume, all of our agents are currently busy. Please call again at a later time. Click." (WARGARBLE!)

All About the Belly

Well, I have finally popped out with regards to the pregnancy belly. I'm sure it was gradual, but it really seemed to happen overnight. I have been told that the first pregnancy takes longer to show because my uterus is taking longer to make room for itself. It's got to push all the other organs out of the way, you know. I think my small intestines are somewhere in my throat. At the next pregnancy, my organs will already know their places, and they'll move out of the way readily (*sirens* "Battle stations, everyone, all hands on deck! Liver, you're over here; pancreas, down there; stomach, stop trying to turn inside out - you know the drill here, people!" At this point the boatswain notices the colon trying to sneak out the back door wearing a hat and carrying a suitcase, so he drags it back into formation). I have a lively imagination these days.

Anyway, I'm also at the point where people are tempted to touch the tummy. I mean, like, complete strangers. It's reenforcing my notion that my size is reaching planetary proportions and that I'm developing my own gravitational pull.

I am completely over morning sickness! YAHOO!!! I have never felt so relieved. It's been replaced with heartburn and insomnia, but I can totally live with that. I've started to feel, not just human, but kind of wonderful. I have a bunch of energy coming back, and I get surges of elation that I'm sure are coming from some magical, hitherto inactive hormone. I have not had the mood swings as badly, either, so things are generally really nice right now.

I think the gods drank orange juice, by the way. And ate cantaloupe. Fruit has never tasted this good.

I am at 22 weeks with 18 to go. My baby is the length of a spaghetti squash and weighs about a pound. It punched me so hard that it woke me up the other night, so it seems really eager to get out into the world. My official due date is May 10, and I have a feeling it will be here before I know it.

All About Christmas

Well, I am 19 weeks pregnant...almost halfway. I have started to be able to feel the baby kicking with my hand, which means it won't be long until Adam will be able to feel it if I catch it in time. I have been less sick with more energy, and that's good news becaaaause...

...We're driving to Arkansas next week. That's about a 20 hour drive. Spread out over two days, the trip will be about 10 hours a day in a car, 12.5 hours if you factor in all the potty breaks I'm going to have to take. I have never wanted to fly so badly in my life. I hate airplanes, but I would take a plane any day over the grueling road trip we are about to endure. I am praying for no motion sickness, no swelling, and no throwing up - not necessarily in that order.

We will be visiting all the aunts and uncles and grandparents in Little Rock and areas nearby. I have never been to Little Rock, so that's sort of exciting, but I understand it will be very cold, and that's less exciting. It's been in the 70s and 80s everyday here in Florida, and I don't adapt well to the cold. I think I'm like a lizard now - anything under 50 degrees makes my body shut down. Maybe the baby will be a little heater for me.

Balancing Acts and Other Weirdness

I have been having even more new-and-exciting symptoms from my pregnancy that I will share for those of who how eagerly await hearing about my experiences (i.e. Becky).

First, I am still vomiting. A lot. That can't be good. I'm having a hard time staying hydrated, and I have been limited on the sorts of foods I can eat, so I simply don't think I'm getting enough nutrients. So that part is kind of scary. I'm terrified of taking a drug that makes my kid sterile or retarded or have extra limbs just because I'm a wimp, but the alternative is making me nervous. ANYWAY, enough scary stuff.

Last weekend I felt the baby move for the first time. It is a very strange sensation that is almost impossible to describe. Imagine someone filled a water balloon to about the size of a cantaloupe and placed it between your hip-bones. Then imagine that there is pop-corn popping inside the water balloon. That's as close as I can come to describing it. Lately, Pop-corn has started to activate during writing conferences at work, which is very distracting. There's no great way to explain to the student why I suddenly stared off into space with my hand on my belly. "Oh, sorry, there's just a tiny person banging on the walls of my uterus."

I have lately become front-load heavy. That means that everything on the front of my torso is way bigger than usual. This is very problematic with clothes. Nothing but maternity stuff fits, but I don't have much of a bump yet, so I just look pudgy. Sad face. The other weird thing is that I have begun to spontaneously lose my balance. At first I thought it was just dizziness, but now I'm starting to think that I actually have begun to shift my center of gravity, and this panda bear is not used to that. I have always had a firm, hip-based center of gravity, but now it's starting to move upwards.

I am looking forward to having a month off, starting next Thursday, and I will spend it getting things done and sleeping. Oh, and driving to Arkansas for Christmas. I will be meeting all of the Cartwrights that I didn't have a chance to meet before.

2nd Trimester Starts Today

So today marks the beginning of my 2nd trimester. I am STILL sick, but I'm a little less of a pukey-faced zombie these days.

I'm still not showing, which is both normal and slightly disappointing. I believe, though, that in the long run I'll be glad to have room to grow. If I was already big with 26 weeks to go, that could be a problem. According to the internet, my fundus (ha! science knowledge!) is rising, so I should be popping out in a few weeks.

In other news, pregnancy makes you burp, fart, and snore. That's about all I have to say about that.

I have started to crochet a baby blanket for my little lemon (that's what size it is this week.). We have decided that we want to find out the sex of the baby if we can. I would like to stop calling it "Tadpole," "Buddy," and "Fruit of the Week," but most of all I would like to stop calling it "It." For now, though, I have chosen the cliche green and yellow for the blanket I'm making. Making a baby blanket is supposed to make me more excited about the little chap. I've been so sick that I haven't had room in my head for thrills and joy, which has made me feel more than a little bit guilty. I'm trying to get in the parenting, mothering, nesting mood, with little success. I even looked online at nursery bedding, but it is all so expensive and extravagant and cutesy that I was more overwhelmed than excited.

I have finally found a mid-wife facility, so I'm gonna make an appointment and start getting professional help on this stuff. I'm finally at the point where, if something went wrong, a professional would actually be able to do something, so it's time to visit the pros. I'll update once I get the ultrasound and medical advice :-) 

Getting Better

Well, I am at 11 weeks now, and I am definitely starting to feel better. If I'm lucky, I only throw up once a day now! My dreams are still really weird, though. I dreamed the other night that I was packing for a trip, and I was trying on the clothes that I would take. When I started, my clothes were too big, but they got smaller and smaller as I went until I couldn't even fit them over my head. I think I'm a little anxious about the body changes that I have to look forward to. Oh, well, I'll just try to minimize the damage so that it's at least mostly baby :-)

I have been looking forward to Halloween for a whole year, and now it's almost here. I realized, though, that I have to work until 8 that night, so I'm afraid I'm gonna miss all the trick-or-treaters :-( I can at least carve a pumpkin, though, and I'll be able to make pumpkin soup and pumpkin bread pudding again like last year. I'm hoping my tummy can handle those foods because I have been thinking about them all year!

Pregnancy is Hard

Well, there have been some new developments (read: weird symptoms) that I'll share. I signed up for a weekly e-mail list that tells me where the baby is development-wise, where I should be symptom-wise, and the size of the baby fruit-wise.

This week, Little James or Natalie has eyes and eyelids, but he/she won't be opening them for a while. At the end of this week, all the major body parts will be in place and things will be fine-tuned and developed from here on out.

I have not been sleeping very well. My body has developed two patterns from which it chooses every night.

Pattern 1: I fall asleep at 10. At 12, I wake up to pee. At 2:30, I wake up to pee again, but this time I won't fall asleep again until 3:30. At 6:30, I wake up to pee again. At 7:30, I wake up, throw up, eat a bowl of cereal, and sleep again until 9.

Pattern 2: I fall asleep at 10. At 1:30, I wake up to pee. At 3:30, I wake up to pee, go back to bed, get up again to throw up, eat a piece of toast, and go back to bed. At 7:30, I wake to pee, throw up, eat more toast, and can't fall back asleep until 10.

 I can tell which pattern my body is following based on the first time I wake up. It's like clock-work from there. I pretty much know exactly what time it is whenever I wake up from then on.

One thing they tell you about insomnia is that you should get out of bed and do stuff while you wait to get sleepy again. I don't have the energy for that. I prefer to simply lie there and wait for sleep to find me again because that takes way less effort. It leads to weird thoughts, though, which lead to weird dreams. On one pattern 1 night, I lay in bed at 2:45 trying to think of things that were interesting. I began to think (of all things) about how secure our apartment would be in the event of a zombie apocalypse. That was a mistake. The answer was "Not very," and I proceeded to terrify myself with thoughts of zombies climbing over each other to reach our second-story balcony.

I do have a bad feeling that these patterns may be self-perpetuating, that by thinking that it's time to throw up, my body can't undo the damage. I don't know, though. I'm still pretty sure I was just gonna throw up anyway.

One thing my little weekly e-mail said was very helpful. It said something to the effect of, "Burping a lot?" I thought, Oh my gosh, yes, how did they know? I have not been much of a lady lately.

Fruit-wise, it's the size of a grape, which is way cuter than last week's kidney bean.