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yourmidnightlover · 3 years

Text

all my fault

Request: spencer and y/n are married, and they’ve been trying to have kids, and then she finds out she’s pregnant. a few weeks into the pregnancy, she has a miscarriage, and at the hospital the doctor said it’s bc she had an abortion as a teenager, and it fucked up her it yet us. spencer didn’t know she had an abortion, and blames her for the death of the baby, and they end up sleeping separately for a while and they have to grieve by themselves. spencer ends up talking to emily about it bc of her experience and it has a comforting ending!

Summary: when reader has a miscarriage after trying to have a baby with spencer, and things about her past are revealed and leaves things rocky within their relationship.

CW: miscarriage, pregnancy, mention of abortion, spencer’s rly harsh at first, teenage pregnancy, mentions of surgery, a cervix condition that i kinda made up, depressive thoughts, negative self-worth, HAPPY ENDING. *please let me know if i’ve missed anything*

A/N: i’ve been working on coming up with a series, which i posted last thursday! i’m sorry i haven’t been as consistent with my schedule, this summer has really taken a toll on my mental health and school is about to start back up. i promise i’m not quitting writing, but my writing might become a bit more sporadic in terms of my posting schedule. i’m still not sure if i like how i’ve executed this piece, so please let me know what you think!

IMPORTANT A/N: this contains serious topics centered around pregnancy and abortion. reader end up blaming herself and it is a very triggering subject to some. if you aren’t comfortable with those kinds of depressive thoughts PLEASE DONT READ. i don’t want anyone to be triggered by my writing. your mental health matters. you matter. do not read if your sensitive to the subject matter, please!

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when you and spencer checked the third pregnancy test and saw those two, very clear lines on the stick, you felt an unbelievable amount of joy.

“oh my god,” you clamped your hand over your mouth, your eyes welling with tears.

“y/n…” he held his breath, holding your free hand with both of his own.

“you’re gonna be a dad,” you huffed out a laugh as his arms flew around you.

“and you’re gonna be a mom! we’re gonna have our own little family,” he cheered as he breathed in your scent, elated from the news he had hoped for since you said ‘i do.’

spencer had wanted to be a father since he met henry, you remember how attached he was to the child who wasn’t even his own. you hadn’t always wanted children, only when you were absolutely ready for them. now, you were more than ready.

your arms flew around spencer’s neck as his went around your waist. he dropped to his knees and began pressing kisses against a bump that wasn’t even visible yet, praising you and your body for carrying his child.

because it was so hard for you to get pregnant, spencer decided to baby you every chance he got. you didn’t do the dishes or sweep, you weren’t allowed to reach for high shelves or even step on a chair to do so. he was worried about you and the baby, so you let him. you found it endearing.

the perfect man that you married was so worried about the little bean inside of you, worried for your safety, that it drove him a bit mad. who were you to complain? each time he’d do one of the new little quirks like not letting you lift anything above 10 pounds, you just smiled to yourself and brushed it off.

being pregnant was something that you had lost hope for, in all honesty. spencer had been talking to a few friends who had adopted children prior to finding out you were pregnant. if this hadn’t worked out, the two of you were going to look into adoption.

spencer had planned your doctors appointment for 6 weeks after your last period. the appointment was in three days. and then the perfect outline you had for your future went down in crumbles.

you had been having pains in your lower abdomen, and you figured it was just because you were pregnant. you went to the bathroom like you normally would when you felt queasy, kneeling by the toilet in preparation for what was to come. only nothing came.

you decided to just go pee and get back to bed. there was a pain that wasn’t like you’d felt before when you were peeing, like someone had been pulling your intestines out of your body. when you looked down, you felt your stomach drop.

“spencer!” you cried out. “spencer, hurry!” you felt tears well in your eyes until he ran up beside you. his hand was on your thigh as the other one was trying to steady your shaking hand.

“what is… oh,” he looked in the toilet to see blood inside of it.

“spencer… what happened? i don’t know what happened. everything was doing so well and the baby-we just found out and now they’re-wh-what’s gonna happen?” you rambled out, unsure of how something this horrific happened so quickly.

“i-i don’t know, my love,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “i don’t know. but we’ll go to the hospital right now, okay? we’ll get answers.”

you just nodded. you couldn’t speak anymore. you felt your throat closing in on yourself. you cleaned yourself up and got dressed. even looking in the mirror with spencer’s arms around you, you didn’t feel anything but guilt and worry.

spencer’s touch would usually be something to ease your mind and take away the thoughts of everything else around you. only this was something wrong inside of you. you were the problem this time. and you didn’t think anything could fix this feeling.

“let’s get to the hospital, yea?” you nodded as he held onto your hand, trying to ground you to himself as he guided you to the car.

you were silent the entire drive to the doctor. there was nothing to say. there was nothing to do. there was just… nothing. you were numb.

“hey,” he spoke up, “we don’t know what happened yet. there’s a chance it’s just a fluke, right? the baby might be okay.”

“what’re the statistics, spencer? tell them to me,” you ordered as tears flowed from your eyes.

“y/n…”

“tell me! why don’t you want me to know?!” you accused him, looking over at the man driving as he but his lower lip. “1 in 4 women who experience bleeding during a pregnancy are fine. 25 percent. the other 75 percent of people have either a miscarriage or serious complications. those are the statistics.”

“y/n…” he sighed, “it’s not your fault. you didn’t want this to happen. besides, there’s still a 25 percent chance that nothings wrong.”

“whatever,” you rolled your eyes and opted to look out of the window for the remainder of the drive to the hospital.

“alright,” the doctor entered the room. “we have the results from the test and we’ve examined the ultrasound pictures. i’m so sorry, but you’ve had a miscarriage.”

what were you supposed to feel? an overwhelming sense of sorrow? like a failure? like the one thing you wanted most in the world fell through?

“how-how did this happen?” you spoke through the tears. “we were so-we were careful. i didn’t lift heavy objects, i didn’t do repetitive motions, i just… we tried so hard to make this work,” you shook your head in disapproval, as if you wouldn’t accept the answer that had already been proven to you.

“there’s proof of an abortion when you were a teenager. there was severe damage done to your cervix that wasn’t assessed pre-pregnancy. now, we can repair the damage within the next two months, but it will still be difficult to become pregnant after the surgery,” the female informed you.

“then what’s the point of getting the surgery?” you scoffed, looking at spencer who was just staring off in space.

“while getting pregnant will still be difficult, maintaining the pregnancy is much more likely. the fetus would be more protected and secure after the surgery,” she explained with a pitiful smile, you couldn’t help but wonder how she could smile after giving you the worst news of your life.

“right,” you nodded curtly, allowing her to sense the mood of the conversation.

“i’ll leave you two be. i’m so sorry for your loss,” she gave the both of you a pitiful smile before exiting the room, the only sound audible being the closing of the door.

it didn’t feel real. it felt as though you were in a nightmare. only this time, you wouldn’t wake in spencer’s comforting arms. you wouldn’t hear the soft soothing voice of the man you love trying to calm you down. you wouldn’t feel the solace he would provide by merely being himself in your proximity.

the drive home was eerily quiet. there was an inkling of animosity between you. looking over at spencer in the driver’s seat, he had a dead look on his face, the only sign of previous emotion being his red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks. he didn’t even look like your spencer. he looked like a stranger in the drivers seat with a cold expression that you could barely read.

you knew this was something you should talk about. when the nurse came back in the room it was only to offer a few referrals go therapists that specialized in this kind of grief. clearly, any couple should talk about losing an unborn baby. but you knew that’s not what spencer was truly upset about.

you waited until you shut the door to your apartment before saying anything.

“maybe we should talk about it?” you whispered, not knowing how he’d react.

“about what? the fact that you’ve lied to me for our entire relationship?!” he wouldn’t even turn around to face you. “i thought we were in this together, y/n. we aren’t supposed to keep secrets from each other - especially not any that just killed our child!”

“hey…” you winced at his words. “why would you say that?”

“that’s the truth! your choices when you were a teenager just killed our child! my child!” he finally turned to face you, and you wished he hadn’t.

“do you think i knew they would botch my abortion, spencer?! do you think that’s what i wanted?!” you stepped closer to him, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“i don’t know what you want anymore, y/n,” he shook his head, clearly exasperated.

“i want you. i want to get the surgery to fix my cervix. i want to grieve our child. i still want kids… with you, spencer,” you tried to ease the mood, calm him down. you reached your hand out to cup his cheek before he dodged your touch, afraid of touching you. “but you don’t want that?” you whispered so quiet, too afraid of the answer to raise your voice.

“i-“ he sighed and bit his lower lip. “i don’t know.”

“right. of course you don’t,” you shook your head before sitting on the couch, dropping your face in your hands.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he scoffed as he took off his coat.

“it means that: of course, you’re making this about you! it can’t be about us grieving our loss together like the doctor recommended?!” you peeked between your hands at the man you still didn’t recognize.

“maybe we shouldn’t grieve together since we can’t even have a conversation without getting angry at one another,” he tried to reason.

“the only reason i’m getting mad is because you’re blaming me for my baby’s death,” you spat back at the doctor before you.

“because it’s your fault!” he stood strong in his belief. “when you were a teenager, did you or did you not have an abortion?”

“i did,” you admitted.

“and the nurse said that in said abortion, they screwed your cervix up! if you didn’t have that abortion, our child would still be alive! we would be on our way to become happy parents!” he accused, rubbing salt in the already stinging wound. “it’s your fucking fault!”

“stop saying that,” you shook your head and dropped it back in your hands, trying to hide the tears that began to flow down your face.

“it is, y/n! i can’t believe you’re even trying to say this isn’t!” he chuckled, clearly getting under your skin.

“shut up, spencer!”

“i can’t, y/n!” he sat in the chair across from you before standing back up, too hyper to sit. “no wonder it was so hard for you to get pregnant.”

“spencer,” you begged him to stop, meeting his face with your teary eyes.

“y/n,” he stared you in the eyes, and you saw a glimpse of the man you loved for a second before he retreated to the bedroom.

you sat on the couch in confusion of what had just occurred.

when you were 15, you’re boyfriend was adamant about taking your relationship “to the next step.” you didn’t think you were ready to have sex, but you wanted him to stay with you. so, you gave in. it just so happened to be that you were one of the lucky girls that ends up getting pregnant her first time in spite of birth control and a condom. you couldn’t tell your mom about your pregnancy, she’d have your head on a pole.

so, you earned enough money from your job to get an abortion yourself. you went to a clinic and had your boyfriend’s mom come with you to sign as your guardian. was it smart to get an abortion that cheap? probably not. but you had no other choice. your mom had made it abundantly clear that if she caught you fooling around with him that she’d kick you out.

you were 15. you were young and still had to finish high school. there was no support system for you. you would’ve been on the streets with a little baby - not to mention the amount of debt you’d go into for just giving birth to a child in a hospital. it was the only choice.

and now you were being berated for making the only choice you even had - and by the person you loved most in the world.

you curled into yourself on the couch, laying your head on the arm and crying into the fabric. you released all of the tension and turmoil. you held onto the cushions as if it were the man that you wanted - no, needed to comfort you. because as much as you’d hate to admit it and try to fight those thoughts, part of you thought that spencer was right. it was your fault.

you fell asleep on the couch that night. you didn’t have the strength to get up to grab a blanket so you just sucked it up.

spencer didn’t sleep at all. he was used to having you curled into his chest, or himself on yours. he felt terrible about how he had talked to you, but he was too stubborn to admit anything just yet.

in the middle of the night he went out of the room to grab a glass of water. he saw you curled up in a ball, you head resting on the arm of the couch as you slept. it was the most peaceful you looked in the past 24 hours. but you began shivering as you slept. you were probably too exhausted to get up to do anything.

he went to the hall closet on a detour and grabbed your favorite, soft blanket and laid it on top of your body. after placing a soft kiss on your forehead, he went into the kitchen and made his glass of water before taking one more glance at you. you had snuggled into the blanket, pulling it up to your chin with a gentle smile that always appeared when he kissed your forehead as you slept.

maybe he didn’t screw up too badly, after all.

the next few days were spent avoiding one another. spencer couldn’t face you after knowing you had kept something so dire from him for the entirety of your relationship. you couldn’t face him after he made you feel as though it was your fault you lost your baby.

you would stay on the couch all day, barely eating or drinking anything while spencer would go out - only mentioning the library or the office to do more paperwork. eventually he just started sleeping at morgan’s house - probably because he couldn’t stand being around you.

you didn’t know how to grieve your baby, you were hoping that spencer might help, but that clearly won’t be happening. on top of that, you were worrying about your marriage. he couldn’t even look at you, how was he supposed to talk to you and sleep beside you?

a lot of times, it’s perceived that the only reason women were put on this planet were to have children - of course that’s a false notion, but it didn’t make it sting any less. your body had betrayed you. you had betrayed yourself.

it was only 12 days after spencer left when he came back home, if he could call it that anymore. once he walked into the living room, he saw you curled up in that same position on the couch. you had a blank stare that was directed towards the black tv. the only evidence that you were doing something was the empty water bottles surrounding you - certainly not enough considering he’d been gone for over a week.

when he entered you didn’t even flinch. your gaze stayed on the empty screen and your face remained vacant of any emotion.

in all honesty, morgan was the one to tell spencer he should check on you. spencer hadn’t told him everything about your argument, he knew he was in the wrong. but he was just so angry. regardless, he was here now, and it’s a good thing he was.

you hadn’t been taking care of yourself. spencer had morgan and savannah checking on him, but you had nobody. he only realized this when morgan pointed it out. and as upset as he was, spencer would always love you. your expressionless face only worried him more. your clothes had been changed from when he last saw you, but he doubts you’ve had a shower.

he stayed silent as he began picking up the empty water bottles from around the table and couch. you looked at him quizzically with furrowed brows.

“what’re you doing?” you asked, your chin already quivering as tears threatened to stream down your face.

“i’m trying to help,” he whispered as sensitively as he could, making eye contact with the most pitiful face you’d ever seen.

“i think you’ve helped enough,” you rolled your eyes before resuming your serious stare-down with the television. “you can leave.”

“no, i can’t,” he replied, sitting down on the opposite end of the couch while being sure not to touch you - he didn’t know if you were ready for that.

“you already did,” you brought to his attention, briefly looking at him. “just go.”

“y/n, i-“

“i don’t want to hear it! what’re you gonna say that could make me feel worse, spencer?!” you let the tears fall past your waterline. “i know it’s my fault. i know i screwed up! and i’m sorry! i’m so sorry!” you replied with far too much sincerity, the tears streaming down your face before he scooted closer to you, planning on wrapping his arms around you. “stop! don’t come near me!” you pushed his shoulders away. “it’s my fault,” you lowered your voice significantly before wrapping your arms around yourself.

he had called emily as soon as he got back into the bedroom. he knew she had previously had an abortion when she was a teenager, and he just needed to hear her side of it. part of him didn’t even expect her to pick up the phone.

“reid, what’s wrong?” she immediately answered.

“i-i think i need to talk to you,” he whispered in a hushed tone.

“right now?” she asked in a mildly concerned tone.

“if you can? the sooner the better,” he answered honestly.

“alright. you want to meet somewhere or just come over?”

“can i just come over? it’s really personal and i wasn’t sure who else to go to,” he began tying his shoes and hoping she’d agree.

“of course, come on over,” she replied in a worried voice.

“ok. i’ll be there in twenty.”

he quietly left the apartment, not before sparing you a regretful glance. he lost his child, but you also lost your child as well. he just couldn’t control his anger. and partially, he thought he was right.

how could you not have told him about something so serious? the second you had began having issues getting pregnant, maybe you should’ve been open about previous pregnancies.

“hey,” emily greeted before giving him a hug after seeing his teary eyes. “come inside.”

“thanks,” he sniffled before stepping into her apartment.

she guided him into her living room and sat down on the couch beside him. they sat there for a few silent minutes before he was able to work up enough courage.

“y/n was pregnant,” he whispered, barely audible if she weren’t right beside him.

“was,” she pointed out, already feeling as though she knew the rest of the story.

“she uhm-she miscarried two weeks ago,” he somberly admitted for the first time to someone else. “the doctor said it was because she had an abortion when she was a teenager that somehow ruined her cervix.”

“and that’s why you felt like you needed to talk to me?” she gathered, she was a great profiler for a reason but this was far more obvious.

“i was pretty harsh. i-i told her it was her fault,” he bit his lower lip as he grimaced. “i really rubbed it in, too.”

“spencer… “ she sighed, taking a deep breath before continuing. “you’re mourning a life, right now. obviously, that would raise tensions and emotions would be heightened. but… have you apologized? for telling her it was her fault?”

“no?” he replied after thinking about it. “i was going to do that today but she’s… she’s not in good shape. i’m not saying she needs to be perfect, but while i was at derek’s i can tell she didn’t take care of herself. she barely drank any water.”

“did you ask her why she had an abortion? why she didn’t tell you? did you ask her anything about how she’s feeling?” emily asked once more.

“no,” he cowered down, feeling even worse about the truthful answer. “i was just… selfish. i didn’t think about how she’s feeling. i just-i feel so bad now, seeing what state she’s in.”

“when i got an abortion it was because i wasn’t ready for a child,” she began to inform him. “i was a child, myself. how was a child supposed to take care of another one? my mother would’ve been disgraced. i basically had nobody there for me. i kept it a secret because having an abortion is so controversial. i knew people would look at me differently for making a responsible decision for my future.”

“god, i feel so bad,” he began to tear up himself. “i love her so much and i told her these horrible things.”

“make it right, spencer,” she gave him a supportive smile and pat his thigh before he stood up.

“i-i have to go,” he wiped the tears from his face before giving emily a hug, grateful she would listen to him at such an ungodly hour.

he quickly drove back home, where he decidedly belonged in the first place. he never should’ve left home. he never should’ve left you. you were his home, and he didn’t know how he could possibly lose sight of that.

“y/n,” he cooed as he entered the apartment once more. it was noticeably a bit more clean. the trash was taken out, the dishes were done, and your hair was wet from a shower - he assumed. “hey,” he smiled when he saw you sitting on the bed, cheeks still red and tear-stained with red, puffy eyes.

“hi,” you sighed as you brushed your hair, spencer sat down beside you.

“how’re you feeling?” you shrugged. “i need to apologize to you,” he admitted, placing a hand on your thigh. “i’m so, so sorry for what i said. telling you that it’s your fault that we lost our child… i-there’s no excuse. i was clearly upset, but so were you. what i said was so out of line, and i’ll never be able to express how sorry i am to you.”

“you’re right,” you shrugged. “it was my fault.”

“no,” he rubbed his thumb on your skin. “it was not your fault. i’m so sorry i made you believe that.”

“when i was 15 my boyfriend at the time pressured me to have sex. we used a condom and i was in birth control but i still-i still ended up pregnant,” you began, taking a deep breath before continuing. “i couldn’t tell my mom because she would’ve kicked me out, so i saved up some money and had his mom take me to a cheap clinic. she signed as my mom and i got the procedure done. that was the end of it,” you finished tears streaming down your face. “a few weeks after the procedure i started having pains in like my lower back, but i didn’t think anything of it. so… it is my fault. i shouldn’t have gone to a cheap clinic, but i couldn’t live on the streets with a baby and no way to clothe or feed them.”

“y/n,” he got your attention, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “you were a teenager who had no other choice, love. it’s not your fault, it’s the clinic’s.”

“i just… it hurts so bad, spencer,” you shook your head in defeat before he wrapped his arms around you. “not even just emotionally, my body physically hurts so bad. i don’t know what to do and i thought i lost you and i didn’t know what i would do without you because i didn’t think you loved me anymore because it’s my fault,” you ranted out, sobbing into his shoulder before he moved the two of you around the bed to lay down, you on his chest.

“i’m so sorry you had to go through that, and that you’re still dealing with the repercussions,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “but know that i’m not leaving you. i love you and nothing will ever change that.”

“there’s nothing we can do now,” you whined, clutching to his shirt as if he’d disappear once more.

“we can go to the recommended therapy. we can get that surgery to fix your cervix,” he reminded you, rubbing circles onto your back as you sniffled. “then, if you’d like, we could try again for a baby.”

“so you still want to be with me?” you whispered by his ear, clearly worried of the answer.

“of course i do,” he said as if there were no other option; there wasn’t. “i’m so, so sorry, love.”

“the reason i didn’t tell you is because,” you sighed as you shuffled on top of spencer, now sitting on his lap and facing him. “because there’s this stigma that comes with having an abortion - and i didn’t know how you’d react. i also didn’t know it didn’t go well in the first place, but that’s a different story,” you chuckled. “i’m sorry. i should’ve told you about something so serious.”

“you don’t have to apologize,” he brushed a strand of hair from your face. “that was from your past. this is our future, we shouldn’t get caught up on it and allow it to ruin this.”

you nodded, “you’re right. are-are you staying here, now? or are you going back to derek’s?” there was an obvious look of hope in your eye that spencer never planned on squashing.

“i’m staying here,” he smiled. “home. you’re my home.”

“you’re so cheesy,” you rolled your eyes as a laugh left your lips.

“i’ve missed your smile,” he pressed a kiss to those very lips, your smile not going away but growing even bigger.

“i’ve missed you,” you pointed at his chest. “please don’t leave again.”

“i won’t. ever again,” you held your pinky out, he smiled and wrapped his own around it. “i’m so sorry.”

“we’ll work at it,” you sighed. “we’ll build back the trust and fix my stupid cervix and then maybe try again for a baby.”

over the next few months spencer and you had been going to therapy once a week, mourning the loss of your baby and working through your other issues.

five months after you found out about the miscarriage, you had the surgery to fix your cervix.

one year after you fixed your cervix you and spencer began talking about having a child. you were extremely nervous, rightfully so. you voiced your concerns to spencer about what if the surgery didn’t work? what if your cervix wasn’t the only issue? and he replied by reminding you that you would both take this one step at a time.

seven months after having the conversation with spencer about having children, a miracle had caught up to you.

you were pregnant.

taglist:

@averyhotchner

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@muffin-cup

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@spencerreid9

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#tw pregnancy #tw miscarriage #tw abortion #tw abortion mention #tw depressive thoughts #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer #spencer reid angst #spencer reid comfort

401 notes · View notes

brockadoodles · 3 years

Text

surprises - n. mackinnon

AN: I completely forgot about this fic until @sportmodepetey asked me about writing for Nate and I remembered that I had!! So here is this, I promise it’s all fluff and softness and not my usual angst. I’m gonna tag @hockeyboysiguess too because she might yell at me for waking her up again with another fic. Also I think I promised an anon I would repost this forever ago and then I forgot sooo.. If you come back anon, here ya go!

Word Count: 5148

Warnings: Babies!!!

Your hands shook as you delicately picked up the test in your hands. Holding one end between your fingers, you glanced at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. Your eyes looked heavy, filled with worry and your hair was disheveled from how anxiously you had been running your hands through it the last three minutes.

If you had to guess, you would assume that most people your age would be scared of a positive pregnancy test, but you were feeling the opposite. Your heart was racing and you had an uneasy feeling in your stomach, trying to work up the courage to see the result.

Lately, Nathan would look at the results for you. He said it was his way of protecting you from the feeling of disappointment, a sentiment you appreciated, even if every result was still negative. They all had been negative for the last year and a half, why would the next one be any different?

No one prepared you for what it would be like to have trouble getting pregnant, it was never a thought that crossed your mind. When you and Nate got married, the idea of children wasn’t even on the radar. You were both young, he was in the prime of his career, it just didn’t make any sense to start trying at 25. Now that you both were 30, and it was becoming clear just how difficult it was, you were starting to regret not trying sooner.

It was hard not to feel like you were failing your husband, but your body just wasn’t cooperating. It wasn’t for the lack of trying, the two of you had sex all the time. You tracked your ovulation schedule, tried every superstitious trick, and yet each time that familiar wave of disappointment hit you as you’d see Nate’s face falter when looking at the pregnancy test. It was especially frustrating because doctors told you that everything was normal, and sometimes it just takes time to conceive naturally.

Nate never did anything to make you feel inadequate, he was always supportive of you. Holding you while you cried, reassuring you that you were always good enough, no matter what happened. But most importantly, he never lost faith in you, he constantly reminded you that growing a human is hard work, and maybe your body is just taking extra time to prepare. He was always so calm, genuinely believing that it would happen for the two of you when it was meant to happen. That’s why he tried as often as he could to bear the burden of looking at the test for you. If he could take away any sadness you were feeling, he would.

But today, Nate wasn’t here. The Avalanche were on a week-long road trip in New York and he wasn’t due back for a couple of more days. You bit your lip, diverting your eyes away from the mirror and back down towards the white plastic stick resting in your right hand. You didn’t tell Nate, feeling like it wasn’t worth getting his hopes up only to let him down once again.

Your own hopes were high this time, something in your body just felt different. You had symptoms that you hadn’t experienced yet the other times you thought you were pregnant. You took a deep breath and finally shifted your gaze down to the test, eyeing it carefully.

Your stomach dropped seeing the word “pregnant” in the little results window of the test. You rubbed your eyes quickly and looked again, thinking maybe you were projecting your hopes and that your eyes were deceiving you. When you saw the same result, you quickly ripped open another test and went over to the toilet.

Those second three minutes were probably the most nerve wracking of your entire life. You had never had a positive pregnancy result, and after how long you had been trying it was hard to believe that it wasn’t some sort of fluke or false positive.

When the three minutes were up, you hastily grabbed the test, wasting no time to look at the result. When you read the word pregnant again, you looked back up at your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes were glassy with fresh tears, but you looked happier than you had been a few minutes prior. You took a slight step back from the sink, placing the test onto the marble countertop and placed a hand gently on your lower stomach, slowly rubbing your fingers across your skin.

It took every bit of willpower that you had to not spill the secret to Nate when he came home that week, but you knew that with how long you had both been waiting, that you wanted to confirm with the doctor before giving him the news. The many months of disappointment had caused you to guard your heart, and you couldn’t fathom sharing the news with Nate only to have it ripped apart from the both of you if it ended up not being true.

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A few nights later, you were tossing and turning, finding yourself unable to sleep. You looked over at Nate, unable to sleep. His back was facing you and his breaths were deep. His flight had gotten in late, him not getting back home until around 2:30am. When he leaned in to kiss your forehead softly before slipping into bed, you had been asleep. But when he wrapped his arm around you and rested his large hand on your stomach you woke up, suddenly worried that maybe he knew you were pregnant.

This was a ridiculous thought to have, Nate didn’t even know you had taken tests while he was gone, and he always pulled you close at night, but you couldn’t help but feel your anxiety levels rise.

“I know something’s bothering you.” You jumped at the sound of his voice, groggy and full of sleep. Before you spoke back, Nate turned himself to face you before running his hand over his face and up through his hair to wake himself up a bit. It was 5:47am but because it was still winter, the sky was pitch black outside.

“M’fine, baby, go back to sleep.” You tried to reason, reaching your hand up to rub his cheek, fingers gliding softly over the stubble that had grown in on his face. Nate relaxed into your touch and leaned down to press a slow kiss to your forehead before resting his head in the crook of your neck.

He peppered light kisses on your neck, humming out,

“Did something happen this week?”

“No.” You lied, using your hand to tilt his head back up, bringing your lips to his.

“Just missed you.” You added, deepening the kiss. It wasn’t a complete lie, you did miss him and now that he was home kissing you, you couldn’t help but press yourself closer into him, needing to feel his touch.

Soft moans filled the room as lazily dipped in and out of you. You felt your anxieties slipping away as each moment passed. What started as a means to distract Nate also became a release for you, and you fell back asleep feeling safe and content in his arms.

You woke up a few hours later to the smell of freshly brewed coffee filling the bedroom. You sat up and pulled your hair into a messy low bun before you leaned over the edge of the bed, slowly pulling yourself out of the covers and getting up. You stood up and pulled Nate’s shirt down over your body from where it had risen up earlier that morning. You subconsciously ran a hand over your abdomen, smiling to yourself before heading out the bedroom door and into the kitchen where Nate was sitting at the island, coffee cup in hand.

“Morning.” You said, coming up behind him and pressing a kiss to the back of his shoulder. You leaned around him to grab an apple from the fruit basket and took a bite into it. Nate turned his body slightly toward you, pulling you slightly so that you were facing him, standing between his legs.

“How was the trip?” You asked, smiling softly at him. His fingers pressed into your sides, pulling up the shirt that was draped over your body as he rubbed small, comforting circles into your hips.

“You watched all of the games.” He smirked up at you before pressing his lips to yours in a kiss.

“Mhm, yeah but I still like to know how your trip was.” You hummed out in between soft kisses. Nate tried to pull you closer and deepen the kiss but you felt your stomach lurch. The taste of coffee on his lips made you feel nauseous all of a sudden. You felt bile rising in your throat, threatening to come out and ruin the tender moment between you and your husband.

You pulled away quickly and Nate furrowed his brow at your sudden need to separate yourself from his touch.

“You alright?” He spoke.

“I, uh, I think my period just came.” You stumbled out, averting your eyes from his as you ran into your shared bathroom. You quickly turned on the shower to drown out the sounds of emptying your stomach. Once you felt a bit better, you stood up, flushing the toilet and washing your hands. You brushed your teeth and made a mental note to make a doctor’s appointment for as quickly as possible to 100% confirm your pregnancy. You still felt a bit nauseous, but a part of you was relieved to be feeling sick, as it was another sign that the home tests had been right. You didn’t want to keep the news from Nate for too long, just long enough to plan a special way to let him know he was going to be a dad.

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You sat in the driver’s seat of your car, holding the small ultrasound photo in your hands. The doctor had confirmed what you felt to be true, you were 13 weeks pregnant. Your doctor gave you a list of prenatal vitamins to pick up on your way home. The Avalanche had a big home game that night and you were eager to be there, not only to cheer on Nate but because you knew just how you wanted to tell him.

You stood next to Aleks, glancing down at her and Nikita’s daughter Sophie. She was wearing a small Avalanche jersey, Zadorav printed in white on the back. Your heart swelled at the sight, knowing that someday soon, your own child will be wearing their own little MacKinnon jersey.

“Do you think you can get Z to help me with something? He has to keep it a secret though.” You asked Aleks, taking a sip out of your water bottle. She eyed you suspiciously, looking from you to your drink. You felt nervous under her stare, knowing that she was technically going to be the first person you told the good news to.

“You’re pregnant.” She smirked, saying it bluntly. You choked a bit on your water before looking up at her in surprise. You quickly looked down to your stomach, which was covered with a loose fitting top. Your “wag” jacket that matched the other girls around you came out to cover the sides of your hips. There was no way she could have known based on your appearance, you weren’t far enough along for there to be signs.

“You’re drinking water, you never drink that here.” She smiled. You bit your lip, cursing yourself for having a strict pregame ritual of drinking a beer during warmups. You nodded at her, not wanting to say it outloud as Nate came skating up to where the two of you were standing. Your eyes focused on your husband, who was now balancing a puck on the end of his stick. He tossed it over the glass to you, winking at you as you caught it, a tradition he started after the first game he invited you back when you had just started dating.

You looked around, spotting a young boy who looked to be around 7 or 8, dressed head to toe in Avs gear standing just a few seats over from you. You leaned over and tapped his shoulder, smiling at him and offering the puck. Nate’s tradition was to give you a puck and yours was to pay it forward and give it to a fan in the crowd. More often than not you chose to give it to a kid, knowing just how much it probably meant to them to receive something from a player that they looked up to.

The little boy eagerly nodded at you and took the puck from your hands before turning toward who you assumed to be his dad.

“Wow, what do you say to the nice woman, bud?” The man said, smiling at you in thanks.

“Thank you!” the boy exclaimed, wrapping his small arms around your leg in a quick hug before looking up at you.

“You’re welcome.” You smiled, looking toward his father to get permission to hug the child back. He nodded at you, and you wrapped your arms quickly around the young boy. Nate watched the exchange from the blue line, passing a puck back and forth with Gabe. He couldn’t help but sigh in sadness. He wanted a baby so badly, and while he understood that it would happen when it was meant to, he always felt a touch of worry when he thought too hard about the what ifs. The moment passed as quickly as it came and he focussed his thoughts solely on the game ahead of him.

“So what do you need Z to do?” Your attention turned back to Aleks.

“Well I haven’t told Nate yet, I was hoping Z and the boys could help me.” You said, leaning in a bit closer to her so that the people around you couldn’t hear you. The last thing you needed was for the news to end up all over Twitter. Granted, Nate didn’t use Twitter but still.

Just as you mentioned him, Nikita came skating up to where the three of you were standing. He tapped the glass quickly in front of his daughter, before waving quickly at all of you and skating away. If there was anyone that would help, it would be him. He was so in love with his children, but also wild enough to want to participate in what you had planned.

A few days later you found yourself on a group FaceTime call with some of Nate’s teammates, laughing as they loudly spoke over each other about the plan you had come up with. You knew that you had to incorporate his teammates and hockey into the reveal, being as his team was one of the most important aspects of his life. You knew that he couldn’t wait to someday share that with his kids, bringing them to games and teaching them how to skate.

After JT and Tyson argued over whether Nate was going to cry or not, Gabe cut them off and grabbed your attention.

“Do you know what you’re having yet?” You looked at Gabe curiously, almost instantly thinking of a new task that the boys could all help you with.

“Actually I want you guys to tell us.” You spoke into the screen. This grabbed everyone’s attention.

“What can we do?” Tyson beamed at you.

“Well I have this envelope the doctor gave me, I was going to just open it with Nate but maybe you guys could come up with something to share the news with us.”

“Like a party?” Nikita jumped in. You would have felt nervous about it, but Z had done this before and you knew he wouldn’t do anything too crazy.

“Yes, you can throw a party if you want.” You smiled back at him.

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Nate turned his car on, blasting the heat. It was early, he was tired, and the last thing he wanted to be doing was heading to the rink for an obscenely early morning skate. Gabe had mentioned that everyone needed to be at the rink by 7 that morning, some sort of last minute meeting before practice. He was annoyed but he knew better than to question his captain. He reached down to shift the car into gear when he noticed a note taped to the gear shift. He recognized your handwriting immediately, smiling to himself as he picked the small piece of paper up.

Good morning my love, Snow is still falling, but warm things are coming. If you’re wondering what the next note consists of, When you get to the rink, check your right glove.

Nate reread the note a few times, unsure of what it meant. He quickly set it onto the passenger seat, reminding himself to look inside his gloves when he got to the arena like it said.

When Nate pulled into the parking garage he immediately felt confused. So far, his car was the only one he could see. He glanced at the clock on his phone before double checking that Gabe’s message actually said 7am. It was 6:45am and no one else was there. He was normally a bit early, but never the first one to practice. He shook his head, getting out of the car and grabbing the remainder of his gear from the trunk. Maybe everyone was as tired as he was and just was running a bit behind, he thought as he walked into the practice facility.

Nate took his time changing and putting on his padding, figuring that there was no reason to rush if he was the only one there so far. The note from the car completely slipped his mind. It wasn’t until he grabbed his gloves that he remembered to check inside for something. He felt around the inside of the glove before pulling out another small piece of paper with your handwriting on it.

Congrats, you found clue number two. Although it’s probably not clear what you have to do. You’re probably wondering why everyone is late, Forget about them and head to the place where we sat on our first date.

Nate read the note once more before setting it in his stall and heading out toward the rink. He smiled at the memory of your first date. By all standards, it should have been a disaster. Looking back he isn’t quite sure how he managed to get a second date out of it. He had planned brunch for the two of you, wanting to take you to a little whole in the wall cafe in downtown Denver. Instead, the coaches decided that after their last three losses, they needed an extra conditioning practice. Rather than cancel on you, he asked if you wanted to come watch practice and have lunch afterwards. Much to his surprise you said yes.

He had a terrible practice that day, and he thought for sure that his negative attitude toward his teammates would prevent you from ever wanting to see him again. Instead, after practice, the two of you sat in the stands for two hours just talking about anything and everything while some junior hockey team practiced in the background. You didn’t even express annoyance when some of the players came up to him to say hello after their practice, instead you smiled and listened as he interacted with the younger players.

He left the locker room and headed over to the bench where the two of you sat all of those years ago, he knew exactly where it was that you were sitting. Remembering the dark green sweater you had worn that day, and the scarf you had around your neck to keep warm while he practiced.

When he walked up toward the bench he saw another small note taped to it. He picked it up and opened it.

Welcome to clue number three, This one marks you being halfway done, but I’m just starting the fun. If you search through the practice pucks, you just might find the next one.

Nate was beginning to wonder what this whole scavenger hunt was leading to. You were not the type of person to be able to keep secrets when it came to surprises. If anyone was going to spill about a surprise, it would be you. You always said that you just got too excited to share whatever it was with whoever the person was that you couldn’t be trusted to keep any exciting secrets. He was curious as to how you managed to pull off some sort of prize for him.

Nate set his sticks and gloves down on the players bench and walked into the equipment area to grab the bag of practice pucks. He dumped the bag out and the pucks started sliding haphazardly across the ice. He knew it would be faster than trying to dig through the bag.

His eyes scanned the pucks, looking for a few moments before spotting one with paper sticking out underneath it. He stepped out onto the ice and skated over to where the puck was. He leaned down to pick it up, carefully taking the note off of the puck before skating back over to the boards to lean against them while reading the new clue.

Sorry you had to make that mess, but I promise it’ll be for the best. Don't forget to put the pucks away and then head back to where you always begin game day.

Nate slowly gathered his mess on the ice, stacking the pucks up then sliding them into the bags, before stepping off the ice and heading back toward the dressing room.

When Nate got back to his stall he was confused to see a small gift bag sitting on top of the bench. He looked quickly around the locker room to see if any of the other guys had shown up. It was definitely past time that Gabe said everyone had to be here, yet even Gabe himself hadn’t yet arrived for practice. He picked up the small grey bag and sat down on the bench.

He slowly pulled out the white and gold tissue paper that was stuffed in the top of the bag, setting it down next to him. He reached his hand down into the bag, instantly feeling something extremely soft on his fingers. He lifted the item out and furrowed his brows in confusion at it. He was holding a small stuffed animal version of Bernie, the Avalanche team mascot. He figured maybe the bag was meant for another teammate who had kids.

As Nate was putting the mini Bernie back in the bag, he noticed the back of Bernie’s jersey was different. Instead of “Bernie” printed in white, it said “MacKinnon” and just underneath the name was 29. He knew there must be another clue somewhere and he began to look around his stall for any piece of paper that might have come from you.

He spotted something next to his name plaque, and sure enough it was another folded up note from you.

Now that you’ve revealed all I had to hide, pack up your gear and head where you park your ride.

Nate shook his head, but obliged by what the note said, packing his gear back up quickly so that he could head back to what he hoped was the reveal of whatever grand scheme you were planning.

About 20 minutes later, he walked out to the parking garage and saw you leaning up against his car. You beamed up at him, pulling yourself away from the car and walking toward him.

There were butterflies in your stomach, not only were you about to share with your husband the news, you also were able to share that you knew the sex of the baby.

“Not that I didn’t love this little adventure, but what’s going on?”

“Well, Nate, I think you have to read your last clue.” You smiled, reaching into your back pocket and handing him the envelope. This was it, you thought. Nate was going to know in a matter of seconds, and you could barely contain the smile on your face.

Nate set his equipment bag down next to the car and then gently took the envelope out of your hand. You watched in suspense as he carefully opened it, pulling out the note and sonogram inside.

“Read it outloud.” You encouraged, giving him another wide smile.

“Congratulations the riddles are coming to an end, just know that you’ll have a lot of messages to send. Enjoy the next few months of us on standby, because baby MacKinnon will be making their debut this July.” Nate’s voice cracked at the end of the clue, he slid the small paper over and looked at the ultrasound now in his hand. His eyes welled up with tears and he quickly looked back up at you.

“You’re pregnant?” He spoke quietly, unsure of if this was all real or some horrible joke you were in on with the team. He didn’t think you would mess around with something this serious, but he also couldn’t believe what he was looking at.

Your eyes were also glossing over with tears, feeling an unprecedented amount of joy. You nodded quickly at your husband, taking another step towards him.

“You’re really pregnant?” He asked again, this time with more conviction.

“Yes, Nate. We’re having a baby.” You cried happily, wiping a couple of tears that had begun to cascade down your own cheeks. Nate wasted no time grabbing you and pulling you into a hug.

“I can’t believe this, we’re really having a baby?” He asked one more time, pulling the two of you apart just enough to press one hand flush against your stomach. You nodded in response and leaned up to kiss him.

“Wait there’s another surprise.” You smiled, pecking him on the lips one more time before gesturing to his car.

“I’m not sure anything can top this one.” He replied, quickly looking around for your car before adding,

“Wait how did you get here?”

“Aleks dropped me off, I wanted to be able to drive home with you.” You answered nonchalantly, making a move to open up the passenger side of the car.

The ride home was quiet, Nate drove carefully, with one hand rubbing softly against your thigh. You watched the snow covered buildings pass by you as he continued down the route back to your home.

You were nervous as he pulled onto the street that you lived on, immediately recognizing some of the cars parked sporadically near the house. Nate looked around as he slowly pulled into the driveway.

“Why does it look like the team decided to have practice at the house?” He smirked at you, knowing there obviously was something going on.

“I don’t know, let’s go find out.” You teased, knowing fully why they were all there. You didn’t know what their plan was, but you did hand over your keys that morning to Aleks after she dropped you off, heading back to help the boys with the surprise.

When you walked into your house, you couldn’t believe all of the work the team had managed to pull off in the short amount of time that you’d been gone. There were pastel streamers and balloons draped carefully around the living and dining room. The dining table had an arrangement of fruits and breakfast type pastries for everyone. And out back you could see a set up of a goal covered in white balloons. You jokingly wondered which one of them logged onto Pinterest to get all of these ideas.

Nate looked around in awe. He felt like he was in a dream, one that he was desperate to not wake up from. The two of you had been trying for so long that he hadn’t really allowed himself to think of what it would feel like to have it happen. Having his team there to take part in the celebrations was an added bonus.

“Nate dogg, come outside you need to shoot some pucks.” Gabe slapped a hand on your husband’s back, nodding toward the net that was set up out back.

“Wait, do you know what we’re having?” He quickly turned to you, setting his cup of coffee down on the table near where you were standing. You shook your head slightly, motioning toward the rest of his teammates that were all starting to head out to the backyard.

“No, this is all them.” You smiled, grabbing his hand and leading him outside.

Nate stepped up toward the goal, grabbing his stick from EJ, who was dressed up in the most embarrassing outfit anyone could have imagined. He stood tall, wearing a bonnet over his head and what appeared to be a giant diaper costume that you’d probably find in the clearance section at a Halloween store because it was so ugly.

“Oh my god, what are you wearing?” Nate shook his head at his teammate.

“I lost a bet to Graves.” He rolled his eyes, glancing over at Ryan and shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter, shoot the damn puck.” He added, pushing Nate slightly toward the goal.

Nate fired back a shot, instantly breaking a couple of balloons, silver confetti flying everywhere. He realized quickly that he needed to start shooting to pop all of the balloons, shaking his head at his teammates' knock off best shooter competition idea.

When the puck went flying into the last balloon, pink and purple confetti started flying everywhere. Nate felt like he was moving in slow motion, dropping the stick and running to grab you. He could hear the cheers from everyone around him but all that mattered was you.

He picked you up, twirling you around quickly before gently setting you down. You reached your hand up to wipe the tears from under his eyes, smiling widely knowing that you were having a baby girl. You always knew Nate wanted a girl, believing he would be the best “girl dad” so you knew this moment was extra special for him.

The two of you stood close for a few moments, ignoring the commotion happening around you and savouring the moment.

“You owe me $50, I told you he would cry.” Tyson argued with JT

“I single tear doesn’t count, idiot.” JT shot back.

You laughed at the two boys, leaning your head into Nate’s chest and looking at the scene around you. It may have taken a long time to get here, but you couldn’t be more excited for the family you were creating, knowing that your baby girl was going to be loved by so many.

#bye i love that gif #nathan mackinnon #nathan mackinnon x reader #nathan mackinnon imagine #nathan mackinnon fic #avs imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic

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redhoodssweetheart · 3 years

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Our Growing Family

Series: With All My Love

Pairing: Alpha!Jason Todd x Omega!Fem!Reader

Requested: Yes (Requests for this series are currently open along with a few other series I am working on, all other requests however are CLOSED.)

Word Count: 1.4K

Warnings: Fluff, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, pregnancy.

Description: Jason is away when you find out that you’re pregnant with your first child.

A/N: Please note this series is written out of order as it is a bunch of one-shots. The order they should be read in can be found on my masterlist. Requests for this series and a few others are open, there is a pinned post on my page telling you which ones those are.

Nat had come for a visit when Jason was away for a few days to help Dick with something in Blüdhaven. He called you every night that he was gone making sure you were okay. Being away from one another was hard, but the phone calls helped. It made him feel a little closer when he wasn’t near. Nat knew how hard it was to be away from your alpha and came to stay with you.

Steve was in the city as well, but he promised to let the two of you have girls’ time together. Natasha would spend dinners with him, but the rest of the time was dedicated to you and making sure you were okay. Their two children were currently with another friend of Steve and Natasha’s giving the two of them time away from their duties as parents.

This morning as she was making breakfast you were suddenly turned off by the smell of the food. You weren’t sure what it was, but there was something that had your stomach rolling and you rushed to the bathroom and collapsed in front of the toilet.

Natasha was there in an instant making sure you were okay and you didn’t need anything from her. “Y/N, do you need a doctor? What’s going on?”

You slumped against the wall and fought off another wave of nausea. “I have no idea,” you told her weakly. “That sensation just came out of nowhere.”

Natasha studied you for a moment and then her eyes widened with realization, “Is there anyway that you could be pregnant?”

You sat frozen, your nausea forgotten for the moment. Could you be pregnant? It had been nearly a month since your last heat and you weren’t on birth control. “I… I might be,” you told her, your heart picking up speed. “It’s been a month since my heat and it would make sense.” You scrubbed your face with your hands. “Oh my God, Nat. Am I pregnant?”

The thought scared and excited you at the same time. Were you and Jason ready to become parents? Could you be a good mother to the possible child growing inside you?

Nat saw the nerves written all over your face, “Hey, hey calm down. Let’s panic after we figure out if you’re pregnant. I’ll call Steve and tell him to pick us up a test and we’ll go from there.”

Twenty minutes later Steve was entering your apartment with a bag filled with different tests, “I figured we could try different ones and see what the results are.”

Natasha kissed his cheek and told him what a smart alpha he was, which made Steve preen. It made your heart ache for Jason. He should be here. But then the thought of surprising him once he was home made you feel even more excited.

Snatching the tests out of Steve’s hands you hurried to the bathroom to try the first one. The three of you waited for the results to come in, you paced back and forth nervously. When the timer on Steve’s phone went off you looked at the test, your breath catching in your throat. “Wait is it?” Natasha asked calmly.

“It says I’m pregnant,” you told her.

She squealed, “I knew it!”

Steve patted her shoulder, “She should still take the other tests and see what they say.”

And that was how your day went. Every time you had to pee you would take a test. Out of the seven tests that Steve had picked up only two had been negative. You would still need a doctor to tell you for sure if you were, but at this point it was merely a formality.

Jason called an hour after you had taken your last test. “Hey sweetheart,” he sounded tired.

“Alpha are you taking proper care of yourself?” You questioned, your brows furrowing with concern. “Don’t make me come over there.”

He chuckled, “My tough omega gonna come do my job for me, huh?”

“Yes,” you said sternly. “I need you still so if you get hurt I’m gonna have to hurt Dick for it.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart I’ll be home tomorrow. We finally caught the guy.”

You beamed, “Really?”

“Really,” he said. “Enough about me, tell me about your day.”

You bit your lip as you tried to fight back the smile, “I have a surprise for you when you get home.”

“Oh yeah?” You could hear the curiosity in his voice. “What is it?”

“Now what kind of surprise would it be if I told you?” You questioned. “You’re just gonna have to wait.”

He practically whined at your words, “But sweetheart.”

“No buts, Alpha,” you added the alpha to hopefully placate him some. “You’re just gonna have to wait until you get home.”

You heard shuffling on the other end of the phone, “All right, then I’ll be home in a few hours.”

“Jason! Don’t you dare!” You chastised. “You need sleep.”

“I don’t need sleep, I need answers,” he quoted from The Big Bang Theory.

“Jason--” You were about to tell him not to come when he interrupted by saying, “Gotta go, long drive ahead of me. Get some rest before I get home.”

Then the line went dead and you just stared at your phone. Of course he wasn’t going to wait until tomorrow to get home.

You managed to get a few hours worth of sleep before you felt Jason slip into bed behind you and wrap his arms around you. His comforting scent surrounded you and for a moment you forgot that you were supposed to be mad at him. Then it hit you like a truck that a tired Jason had driven all the way home because he couldn’t wait to find out what his surprise was.

“Jason Peter Todd,” you snapped as you sat up and glared down at your mate and husband. He was giving you a lazy grin and you noticed a few cuts on his face. “You stubborn, stubborn man.”

He sat up and his lips brushed against your neck. He was trying to butter you up so you wouldn’t be as mad at him. “I just had to see you, sweetheart. I was already going crazy being so far away, then you dangled a surprise in front of me? I couldn’t take it anymore.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, “You were tired and could have gotten hurt.”

“I was fine,” he said. “I’ve done more dangerous things before.” At your horrified expression he frantically amended, “Before we met!”

You frowned and he wanted to kiss you and try to make it go away, “You have to be careful, Alpha.” You lightly placed your hand against his cheek and stared deeply into his eyes. “For the three of us.”

“Well of course I’ll be careful, sweetheart. You know I only take risks when necessary and I’ll always be there for you.” You wanted to chuckle, your words had gone right over his head. “And you know I’ll always be there--” He paused and his eyes widened, “Wait did you just say the three of us?”

You nodded your head, “I’m pregnant, Jay.”

So many emotions flitted across his face, pride, joy, concern, love. “You’re… you’re pregnant?” You nodded your head again. “We’re gonna have a kid?” Another nod. “I’m gonna be a dad?” This time you laughed and he pulled you into his arms and kissed you soundly. “I’m gonna be a dad!”

“You’re gonna be a great dad, Alpha,” you purred as you placed a kiss on his mating gland. “I still need to confirm it with a doctor, but Steve bought a ton of tests and only two of them were negative so I’m ninety-nine point nine-nine percent sure I’m pregnant.”

One of his hands moved to cover the area where your baby was currently growing and you could see his eyes shining with unshed tears, “I love you, Y/N.” He bent forward and kissed your stomach, “And I love you too, little one.”

“We love you too, Jason,” you whispered before kissing him again.

The two of you spent the rest of the night curled up together thinking over names and how to tell his friends and family. You knew Bruce was gonna get emotional, this was his first grandkid after all. The boys were gonna spoil this kid rotten and you would never have to worry if you’d have someone to babysit. You fell asleep still wrapped in Jason’s arms as he continued to talk about all the things he couldn’t wait to do with your future child.

#Jason Todd x Reader #Alpha!Jason Todd x Omega!Reader #Jason Todd x Fem!Reader #Jason Todd x Reader fluff #Jason Todd #Jason Todd fanfic #Jason Todd fanfiction #Jason Todd fluff #Requested

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songofsaraneth · 3 years

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Ok now that I have time/space to breathe again, I wanted to do a writeup on the unusual reaction I had to the second Covid vaccine dose. I debated posting this, because I don't want to go against the "I was vaccinated and it's fine!" encouragement train. And I 1000% encourage EVERYONE to get vaccinated if possible. But I have not seen much documentation of the averse symptom I got, except in some case studies I specifically looked up so details below. Big TMI/gross warning however.

Mostly I'm posting this because I had to do SO much self-advocating/arguing with the Dr at my urgent care clinic, and if you're not as read up on weird medical issues as I am, you might not be comfortable doing that. But IANAD, just describing my experience and what I read, which ended up being very long because it was awful and I have a lot to complain about I guess, sorry.

Basically: for me the vaccine triggered an inflammation response, which in itself is normal. The usual muscle aches/joint pain/slight fever. It also triggered an outbreak of ulcers in my soft tissues. Basically, a bunch of canker sores in my mouth/throat. I am already prone to getting these when I get sick or stressed out, so no biggie, annoying and painful but I could handle them. Canker sores are distinct from cold sores in that they form inside the mouth as crater spots, usually around the size of a pencil eraser (though can be bigger or smaller), and will develop a white film across the crater as they develop and start to heal.

An unfortunate fact I have learned: the mouth is not the only exposed “soft tissue” of the body. this group also includes genitals.

So 2 days after the vaccine I noticed a "burning sensation"/rawness downstairs, which turned into a sharp pain, especially when going to the bathroom. I obviously knew this was abnormal and because of what was happening in my mouth, had a pretty firm idea of what was happening, but was ready to brace myself through the healing process. However by day 5 I had 8 red, crater-like sores on the tissue of my vulva. Essentially they are open wounds, and urine is an acid, so you can imagine the hell that using the bathroom had become. Even just sitting hurt.

As someone healthcare-averse, even I knew this was untenable, and went to Urgent Care for the first time in my adult life. I told the NP what was going on, how they matched the canker sores (NOT cold sores) in my mouth in onset/form--and she immediately, without even looking, diagnosed me with herpes.

Lots of people have herpes or other STIs, and that's fine. I know I do not have any, and wanted to pursue treatment for what I was sure they were--Non-sexually acquired genital ulceration (NSGU). I had even found three case studies of COVID patients who had developed them. I had spent several harrowing hours on google images making sure that the sores I had did not match any STI I may have magically acquired during a year of social distancing. I even brought up multiple case studies, including a woman who had them as a Covid reaction in a neighboring state. Didn’t matter. She looked at them and went “Yikes! Herpes!” and prescribed me:

1) an antiviral, which I said I did not think would do anything because the trigger for this was a vaccine not an illness. She said it was probably a herpes flare up already in my system. I reiterated that I have had similar sores in my mouth since childhood and that all my past doctors and dentists agreed it was not viral but something related to an immune response. She said the antivirals should clear them up in a few days.

2) a topical 5% lidocaine ointment, aka an oral grade numbing gel, which was essentially what I was after anyway.

I would have preferred a steroid course to the antiviral, but agreed to start taking them until she got the results of the bloodwork I needed to come in the next day for. I asked how many days after taking them I would expect to see a difference/if she would reevaluate treatment if they didn’t have an effect in a certain amount of time, and she said if they hadn’t cleared up by Monday then she’d look into other causes (spoiler, they did nothing in that 4 day span). to her credit, when she saw me pick up my bike helmet (because my car had been at the mechanic for a month by then), she was properly horrified that i was having to bike everywhere with this situation and printed off some coupons/called all the prescriptions into the grocery store pharmacy next door instead of the CVS my insurance likes a mile away.

So eventually I got home and took my pill & went to put on the ointment so I could use the bathroom for the first time in 8 hours. I’ll spare you the details but suffice to say I had an extremely, overwhelmingly painful 10 minutes of application. Like absolutely awful burning feeling. However once that faded, I was indeed actually numb, and so I figured it was worth it. Got my bloodwork done on Friday (biking there & home again). On Saturday, I thought that you know, maybe a prescription anesthetic shouldn’t be doing that or at least have some sort of warning? And read the details on the jar.

Good things about lidocaine: it is a powerful numbing agent and lasts pretty well for an hour or two.

Bad things about lidocaine: you cannot get oral grade lidocaine without added mint flavoring.

I happen to be EXTREMELY sensitive to mint. Like I still can’t handle breath mints or mouthwash, and used bubblegum flavored toothpaste until I was 14 and found a brand with half as much mint flavoring as is typical. Even if you’re not, mint has no business being anywhere near genital tissue. Even on an average person that could cause awful burning. to make a long saga shorter I had a very frustrating back-and-forth with urgent care involving many rerouted phone trees, visit in person, unhelpful receptionists, and attempts to find over-the-counter alternatives. All were fruitless so I just suffered all weekend until the urgent care Nurse Practitioner called me back on Monday and was suitably apologetic/outraged about the mint thing, and looked up every OTC product that might work as a substitute, since she couldn’t find any prescription level without mint. On Tuesday she called back again having found this:

It’s 4%, so just below prescription strength, while not oral grade, it’s actually fine for soft tissues as long as not fully ingested/internally applied. And most importantly, ABSOLUTELY NO ADDED FLAVORINGS. there is also a spray version that comes in a bottle, which under no circumstances should you try because it uses alcohol as a propellant and I had a very bad 5 minutes after testing that one. But the cream one is fine and brings blessed numbness in around 5 minutes with only minimal contact pain--they are still open wounds after all.

I use this for the next 7 days. By this point the sores have gotten worse and larger, and then started to heal and shrink again. Mouth canker sores go through a similar ~2 week process, so this is about what I expected.

Finally the results of my bloodwork came back, and I was negative for all STIs. The NP was dumbfounded and apologized, and agreed to look up more information/treatment options for cases like this in the future. I’m not surprised her reaction was to assume herpes as it IS very common, but I’m sure other women experience NSGU’s and receive improper treatment. If you look them up, they’re even mentioned as being predominantly a problem for “young or prepubescent women” which, reading between the lines--it’s not that these become less likely if you’re older or sexually active. Doctors just make assumptions and don’t always look past the easy answers.

So if you or someone you know ends up with these--from the Covid vaccine or as a complication of upper respiratory infections in general (as they ARE an immune response and can just Happen to you)--here is what works as treatment. If you can see a doctor you trust, still do that. But if they don’t listen or if for some reason you can’t seek treatment, here is the course of action I recommend:

Pick up that over-the-counter Pain Relief+Lidocaine NON MINTY numbing cream ASAP. Sores go from “annoying” to “excruciating” in only 3 days, so it’s best to get in person or with rush shipping. Sit in front of a mirror and gently apply with a q-tip, and wait 5 minutes for the medicine to take effect.

Pat gently dry with toilet paper, don’t make wiping motions. If you don’t feel clean enough, pat more with a wet washcloth and rinse it out, or hope in the shoer for 5 min just to rinse.

There may be pus or reside from the ointment that doesn’t go away with just rinsing. Every 2 days I made a half-strength bath of epsom salts, NUMBED FULLY, and then took a 10 minute bath to fully cleanse the area. the salt will sting terribly if you wait any longer, so I recommend standing and rinsing after this time.

The vulva is more exposed to air than the mouth. this may cause the sores to crack/bleed as they dry out. to avoid this, after using the restroom and cleaning yourself, you can apply a thick coating of Aquaphor on top of the sores. It will need to be rinsed off before you apply more numbing cream however, so if that is too many steps I recommend just using the Aquaphor overnight.

You may think its ok to get up in the middle of the night to pee without the numbing cream bc you have to go really bad and just once will be fine but it is NOT you will REGRET IT.

Unfortunately if you have sores on both sides you may develop what is known as “kissing sores”, aka sores directly opposite each other that touch when the area is not spread open. this means that after an extended period of time (overnight), the sores will try to heal into each other and opening the area back up painfully rips the tissue apart. INStEAD of ripping them apart, take a washclosh, run it under warm water, and do a hot/warm compress on the area. this will loosen the sores back up and separate them painlessly.

This is not exclusive to people with a vulva, they can also happen on scrotal/anal tissue. However it does seem to much more frequently affect people with typical XX sex organs.

If you develop these, PLEASE fill out an averse reaction form or your country’s equivalent. Also, I’m so sorry and if you need emotional support or have questions please feel free to get in touch.

Most likely, these will not happen to you--the vast majority of vaccinated people have not had this as a side effect. But it IS popping up more and more, and it is good to know about it in advance so you can be prepared to deal with and treat it without as much anxiety and all the hoops I had to jump through to get good care. Overall I’m still glad to be vaccinated, but if I had known this was a side effect, as someone already prone to canker sores I would have waited to vaccinate until my car was fixed a week later a the very least :|

#covid #covid vaccine #averse vaccine reaction #nsgu #ive got my finger on the block button for whatever pornbots this post activates do not try me #anyway #gross warning sorry :( if u dont want to know about my tmi personal health dont read this one #ramblings #wharglbargle #i dont wish these on anyone i cant describe what an awful experience this all was #tried to be more humerous bout it in the post but i cried p much nonstop at urgent care and many of the days after #long post #plagueblogging #still better than getting covid and dying tho so

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adelheidvonschicksal · 4 years

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Baby Makes Three | Midoriya x F!Reader

Midoriya with a pregnant reader (a/b/o optional) - fluff

Sitting on the bed with Midoriya, you both stare at the home pregnancy test as he tries to understand the decoding system listed on the box. Your excitement had spurred you to take the test before reading the instructions, thinking it would be as simple as it would on television. You look to Midoriya, a hopeful smile plastered on your face. In your mind, everything would work out perfectly, your life always seemed to work out perfectly ever since Midoriya came into it. You two met at work, dated, and a year later took the steps to belong to each other eternally. Now, the only desire you had left was to be blessed with a baby nine months from now. It didn’t matter if they were a boy or a girl, it didn’t matter what they looked like, and it didn’t matter if they were born with a quirk like you or born with none like Midoriya either, as long as they were healthy and happy they’d be perfect. But that hope falls when he purses his lips with a barely audible groan.

“It’s negative.” The look of disappointment on your face is something you can’t hide. You thought that being young and relatively healthy would produce results quickly. “Don’t worry. The doctor said these things don’t usually happen on the first try,” he encourages.

Realizing he’s right, you nod in agreement. The spark of hope starts to flicker in you once again, spurring your actions as you push him back down into the bed with an unexpected burst of energy. Your hands lie on either side of his face, his eyes wide and freckles disappearing behind the red blush on his face. “You’re right. We can always have fun trying again,” you tease and lean down to press a passionate kiss on his lips to stop the weak stammer from them.

Two weeks later, you attempt to take another home test, hoping that this time would be the beginning of your new tale. It’s a surprise when the results are the same: negative.

The disappointment comes on hard and fast. You’re no stranger to its crippling grasps. You had been denied many things growing up as a teenager, always a last priority in your family behind your siblings and always having to put everyone else’s needs first, Midoriya being one of the few people and friends you made who cared to make you few like your own individual – to finally make you a priority. In return, you took care of him, spent every other day healing his wounds, protecting him from anyone who would want to harm him, and made sure he always had home to return to. After all those years taking care of others, you realized you liked the feeling it gave you when your beloved younger siblings would grace you with their laughter, treating you as their own mother, and when you were able to take someone’s burdens away. But now, they were grown and had their own lives, and you had yours. With Midoriya frequently out in the field more, you craved a child of your own to care for again. Always the pleaser, Midoriya tried diligently to give you what you wanted despite no results as the months dragged on.

Once again, you find yourself reliving the same scene – a sort of twisted déjà vu – as you and Midoriya read over your results. The negative doesn’t come as a surprise to your mind, as you had grown used to it over and over, but it does become the final nail in your heart as the vision of having your own family slips further and further from your desperate grasp.

You place the test down with a defeated sigh, carrying with it the last of your strength to continue. “I think we should stop trying,” you tell him. In your mind, you already know what Midoriya wants to say when he sympathetically squeezes your hand. That this just means trying again, but you couldn’t take any more disappointment. “It’s okay…really…It’s probably a sign that we’re meant not to have children. You’re working more, and I don’t think I’d be a good mom anyway,” you say, looking for every excuse in between to find some positive light in a tragic situation.

“That’s not true,” he argues. Cupping your chin, he raises your face to look into your eyes, “You’d be a wonderful mom. No one loves kids as much as you, and you always take the time to look out for others without worry for yourself.”

“Then, why hasn’t it happened yet?” you ask, your anguish overflowing and escaping you threw the glossy tears. Midoriya furrows his brow, holding back his own feelings in exchange to help you with yours as he leans in and gently kisses a stray tear away from your cheeks.

“It’ll happen. Trust me,” he promises, moving down to place butterfly kisses along the lovely swoop of your neck.

“Izuku, I don’t want to try anymore.”

“I’m not trying for a baby. I-I just want to make love to my wife,” he explains, hiding his flushing face against the nape of your neck, making your skin warm with the gentle trail of his tongue. The airy moan escapes from your parted lips as he teasingly nips your skin, following all the way up to nibble your earlobe. “Take your dress off.”

Over the course of the next few weeks, you gave up on the idea of having a baby if only for the time being to reset your motivation. Reaching the bathroom, you begin to clean out the shelves of any empty shampoo bottles and soaps, accidentally knocking over a leftover pregnancy test from the top shelf. You should’ve stored it away for later, but curiosity had won out despite your physical life becoming more spaced over the last few weeks.

You open the box, hoping you’d have enough in you to properly take the test. After following the instructions, you waited on the seat for the results to eventually tell you what you already know.

Your hand starts to shake when the results show up: a perfectly formed plus sign centered on the electronic screen. In your excitement, you jump up, haphazardly pull your leggings back up as you race at the bathroom.

“Izuku! I need you to go to the store!” you scream, earning a yelp from the other room.

After Deku comes back from the store, you can finally take a second test just to be sure. You both look over the results, another positive on a completely different brand. “We’re going to have a lot of work to do,” Deku states, smiling at your cheerful face as you hug onto his side and kiss his cheek.

“It’ll be worth it,” you reason.

Midoriya was correct though. As your pregnancy drew on into the months, you both saw more and more work needing to be done between classes and doctors visits, with the fun stuff such as outlining your progress, shopping for baby clothes, and throwing baby showers being fewer in between until the last trimester of your pregnancy.

Being on leave though gave you time to yourself, too much time as Deku continued back on his career. To fill the time, you start work on the baby’s room to at least get the painting out of the way. You had a small step stool to use to reach high places and painted the room a brilliant sky blue, your thought to paint clouds and rainbows for a bright start to your child’s life. Otherwise, Deku would end up decorating the walls with heroes, and you refuse to let him do that to a second room in the house.

You’re halfway complete when he comes home, nearly having a heart attack seeing you even a foot off of flat ground.

“(Name), what are you doing? Get down!” Midoriya demands, reaching out to grab your waist and pull you down, “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“I’m fine,” you say, turning to go back to your painting and completing another fluffy cloud. “Besides the baby is due any day now, and we aren’t even got close to being done,” you say, noting that the only thing that was about finished was the crib.

Midoriya grabs on you again, hoisting you down against your will while you groan in protest. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll get the room ready on time.”

“But, I’m home all day. I need something to do or I’ll go crazy,” you explain as he shoos you out the room.

“All you should focus on is getting rest, not breathing in fumes. I’ll finish the room this weekend.”

“But—”

“No, buts,” he says, shooing you out the door, and you can already sense that his meticulousness was going to kick in any day now.

True to his word, Midoriya began to work on the baby’s room as soon as the weekend came along, dedicating hours to completing the job before your scheduled due date in two weeks. Although, you felt like a beach ball that was going to pop with the slightest poke, even more, when you’re not able to contribute as much as you hoped even if it’s better to let your husband do what he wants when he gets into his moods… At least to a degree.

“Izuku, dinner’s been ready for an hour. Come eat already,” you complain, standing at the door with your arms crossed, ready to smack him if he decided to skip out on another meal you made after you spent thirty minutes on sore feet.

“I’m almost finished. Just start without me.”

You sigh, planting your hand against your face. “Do you want me to bring it to you?”

“No, not in here. I just replaced the carpet.”

Blinking, you look down, realizing that he did replace your once plain cream floor with new carpet. “…Why? There was nothing wrong with our old carpet.”

“The other carpet had paint on it. So, I thought we might as well replace it so that way the baby can have a clean environment and this material is better for when he starts crawling—” he rambles on, and you purse your lips and hum suspiciously, taking another step in before being stopped by the crinkle of magazine paper under your feet.

Curious, you pick up the magazine and begin to flip through the pages, locating the advice of baby experts…or rather ads.

Our carpets are a hybrid carpet known for low VOCs than most synthetic carpets. Additionally, get your carpet installed before your baby starts using the room; if you can get it installed before your baby comes home, that's even better.

You scrunch your face. What did VOC’s even mean? And was that worth the extra $15 dollars a square foot? You flipped through the other “literature” in the stack: Childrearing for Dummies, Sleep Training, When Crying is Something More, and Caring or Spoiling?

“Izuku, where did you get these?” you demand.

“I stopped by the bookstore on the way home.”

“You don’t need to listen to all this,” you say, ripping up the pages of the weaker sources. His eyes widen in horror as you let the shavings sprinkle to the floor like confetti. He races up to you, trying to save his research material, but you hold them further out of reach.

“Stop! I need those!”

“No, you don’t! It’s a bunch of garbage,” you say, turning away and continuing to pull them apart as he frantically reaches over your shoulder.

“At least let me keep the surveys.”

“Nope!” you state, preparing to rip another page when the trickling of water stopped you both in your tracks. Glancing down at the source, you watch as the liquid ripples down your legs, puddles at the floor, and makes your toes squish in the resulting chaos. “Oops,” you exclaim, thinking that this happened much earlier than you were expecting, while Midoriya jumps away after his initial shock.

“Okay, okay, we prepared for this,” he says, but you already see the panic on his face and hum in response as he frantically bolts around the house searching for keys and grabbing your bag. You waddle yourself to the door, grabbing onto the furniture for support as you watch him frantically open the door.

“Izuku, aren’t you forgetting something?” you call out, forcing him to stop. He gasps as he realizes he’s indeed missing the most important part of the plan.

“(Name), I’m so sorry,” he yells and runs up to you, swooping his arm under yours to help you through the door.

Arriving at the hospital, the brunt of the situation finally settles on you as the contractions come closer and closer together. You’re barely able to remember your breathing exercises given all the chaos around you as you’re wheeled back to your delivery room with Midoriya on your side, holding your hand.

“It’ll be all right,” he keeps repeating, but you think he’s twice as worried as you are – always the overthinker especially about things that could go wrong. You just hoped he wouldn’t pass out on you in the delivery room.

“It’s a boy!”

You smile, having finally been delivered a happy baby, or perhaps that was the painkillers still pumping through your veins as they handed you your child. You were so proud of having a healthy baby even though his crying said otherwise. You’d be upset too being thrown into a new world.

You were even prouder of his dad, who only got lightheaded once when your son first started to crown. Now, your son was clean and wrapped in a cozy blanket, his (h/c) hair thick and full for a newborn while speckles of freckles cover his face. “He looks just like his dad.”

Smiling, you place the baby in his arms, gasping when he starts to tear up at the sight of the tiny baby in his arms. “Izuku, what’s wrong?”

“N-Nothing,” he says, sniffling. “I’m just really happy everything turned out okay.”

You giggle at him, thinking you should’ve been the one tearing up at the moment, but it did make for a good first picture as the two of you spend time comforting your new bundle of joy.

Just like you, (s/n) eventually got tired, retiring to rest in your shared hospital room after hours of watching the world around him and feeding on your milk. Knowing the hard part was yet to come, you succumb to sleep while you can as the sun began to go down on your child’s now birthday.

Your peaceful sleep is interrupted by a shrill cry, the first of many that you’d have to deal with in the oncoming months; but to your surprise, it stops almost as quickly as it had started. “You have to be quiet. Your mommy’s trying to sleep.” You open your eyes, spying Midoriya already up and holding onto your son, rubbing his back and cradling the baby to his broad chest. “It’s all right, it’s all right,” he whispers, humming. Quietly, you chuckle to yourself, watching as your two boys fall asleep in the visitor’s chair, one yawning lightly as the other peacefully falls back asleep to the rhythmic rising and falling of his father’s chest; and at that moment, you couldn’t be happier you did this with him.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #repost later

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years

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Survey #251

apologies the formatting is fucked up, oof.

How many smurfs can you name? Zero. Have you ever fully eradicated a bad habit that you had? Uhhh maybe? I'm not sure. The radio is playing U2, The Defects, Echo & the Bunnymen, The Pointer Sisters, Staubkind, and Dr. Dre. on different stations. Which band are you most likely to listen to? I only know U2 (and do NOT like them), Dr. Dre, and one song by E&TB; I don't know the others. I guess I'd pick whichever song sounded most appealing. Miracle on 34th Street, original or remake? Never seen it. Have you ever been in a parade? No. Do you turn the bass up all the way in your car (or would you if you had a car) and blast the music? Ew, no. That shit's obnoxious. What keeps you from being happy? I'm quiiiite sad of an adult. I want to feel worth something, do something. If you could go back in time and talk to yourself five years ago what would you say to yourself (You can only stay in the past for FIVE MINUTES so make it COUNT!)? At that time, Jason and I would still be together, so I'd try to nail it into my head that I can't put my happiness entirely in another person's hands and that I have to have faith in myself and my own strength. AND ESPECIALLY to not give up, to keep trying harder every day. Five minutes wouldn't be enough. What websites are addictive to you? I'd go bonkers without YouTube, and I go through Tumblr binges, but then don't go on for a few days. I have to check KM daily, but it's not really an "addictive" thing, but rather the admin instinct of I have to make sure everything is in order. I check Facebook habitually, but only like, once or twice a day. Who do you never want to end up like? It's... sad to say, but in a lot of ways, my mom. Her life's just been super, super unfair. As a person she's mostly lovely, but as far as luck, happiness, and success goes, sometimes it feels like the whole world's against her. What will you never ever do again? Turn another person into my whole entire universe. What’s the most terrible lie someone could tell you? Something regarding Jason, I'm sure. Probably like, he said he never loved me or something. Even knowing that's absolute shit, PTSD is a ride and I'd. Lose my absolute shit and obsess over "well what if he really didn't." What was the last thing that you printed out? Stuff for my Women Writers class. We print out SO much shit there. I feel like I've alone killed at least seven trees by now, and we don't have a choice but to print the readings out. What do you look forward to each day? M a r k/Unus Annus video boiz. What’s the best song to listen to after a break up? "It depends on the context of your breakup." <<<< This. The radio is playing Poison, Inxs, the Psychadelic Furs, Dio, and Matchbox 20 on different stations. What do you listen to? AHHHHHHHHH Poison, my friends. Do you know what it’s like to take care of someone else? Not really, I guess? But yes to a degree: I've babysat twice, and I assume that counts, and then when Jason had bronchitis, I would barely let the dude leave the bed. Would you rather take care of someone or be taken care of? I don't know, I guess it depends on what's wrong? What is the worst 80’s song in your opinion? You're asking someone who loves '80s music. I'm sure there are some pop-ish/more mainstream ones I don't like, but idk off the very top of my head. What song makes you so happy that just want to dance and dance and DANCE? None. What has been your most beautiful magical memorable cloud nine manic ecstatic incredibly happy bouncy air-light moment of this life??? Slow-dancing to "Stairway to Heaven" w/ Jason out in my yard in his headlights the night of prom. It's the reason I absolutely, entirely, 100% cannot listen to the song anymore, no chance. Do you go out of your way for other people? Depends on the person. What’s your favorite short story? I don't know. Have do you feel about beauty pageants? I fucking hate them. It always just feeds the standards of society and makes both women and men hate their bodies. It also puts far too much emphasis on the "importance" of appearance versus personality. What is your favorite DIY related website? I don't do/watch DIY stuff. Do you bruise easily? Very very, but not the ones you usually see clearly. I don't know how my anemia test came back negative. What kind of bread do you like? Pumpernickel is entirely the supreme type, I love potato bread too, I enjoy wheat... Are your air and water as pure as you want them to be? Idk about air, but I'd suppose so; we live in a rural area. Our tap water, I'm positive no. There's some weird shit with our water. The smell is fucking disgusting, like pure iron, but supposedly it's clean... We've had it tested a few times, but there is SOMETHING wrong with it. Would you ever visit an insect zoo? Sure, if they couldn't get on me. Can you enjoy life without stimulants (coffee, cigarettes, drugs, alcohol)? All of those, yes. Does caffeine count? If so, I'm sure I could, but it'd be very hard. How much thought do you put into your dance moves? I don't dance, so like... zero. What is something you want to improve on this year? Just how much I care about others' perceptions of me, mainly over the most trivial of things. If you could, would you want to stay young forever? No, considering I want to die one day. Immortality sounds ew. What is/was your worst subject in school? Mathematics. Are you a sarcastic person? Oh yeah. What role does religion play in your life? A small one. It helps that my religion (or at least the one I relate closest to, Neo-Paganism) doesn't have the most strict doctrine, therefore allowing a lot of wiggle room varying from person to person. Can you sleep with your eyes open? No. In the past week, what song have you listened to the most often? "Broadcast From Beyond the Grave: Death Inc." by Motionless In White. What was the last thing you shared with someone else? I shared some fries with my mom last time we grabbed fast food. While playing video games, do you prefer being first or second player? I don't care, UNLESS I'm showing someone a new game and therefore I know what to click and such to set the game up; in that case, I prefer to be player one. Otherwise, I don't care at all. What is the most difficult word for you to pronounce? HA, currently, my Biology professor's last name. I obviously won't share it, but I always fuck it up. What did you have to do for the last homework you were assigned? I have to watch a movie - The Suffragette - for Women Writers for when I missed it that week I was away from school. What was the last important thing that you thought about? I think if Mom and I really should stock up on food and TP, but to an actually realistic degree. You hear so many different voices on how bad this pandemic is really gonna be. Personally, I think it's an extreme overreaction, but what do I know. I haven't researched. Generally, do you call people, or wait for them to call you? I wait. I hate talking on the phone. Has anyone ever questioned your sanity? I'm sure, including my gd self. I'm 99.99% sure at one point in the breakup's aftermath, I actually was insane by definition. Especially now that I'm mostly recovered, looking back I'm just like... "hun." How many people do you depend on? Just my mom, really, but to a dangerous degree. How many people do you think depend on you? I feel like my mom does, to an extent anyway. I'm the only person who lives with her and I know she loves me, so I'm company for her. Especially now that she has cancer, she's really gonna depend on me during chemo and surgery. What is the worst color combination? Uhhh maybe like. Puke green and brown? Have you ever injured yourself walking around in the dark? Yeah, but nothing severely. At what age did you develop an interest in the opposite [or same] sex? Idk. I was "ew, boys" until I think... late elementary school. Girls, I had my bi crisis in the 8th grade. Then came the denial and shoving into the very back of my skull. I came out as bi though late '17. Are you or members of your family religious? I think my entire family is but me. Well, correction, I have like a mild connection to religion, but definitely not Christianity like the rest. When was the last time you acted like someone you’re not? Good question. It's not something I really bother with anymore. Like, I can curve around things I don't want to share, but I don't fake what I do reveal. When was the last time that you cleaned your room? Actually! I vacuumed and dusted yesterday. Or the day before, not sure. How many hats do you own/wear? Either none or one, in which case it would be a Carolina Hurricanes' cap as a memento I got from one of the hockey games Dad and I went to. Did the last song you listened to hold any special meaning? I actually don't recall what it was. Are you experiencing problems within a current relationship? No. When you’re upset, who do you turn to? Usually Mom. Does winter weather depress you? Noooo! Who was the last person that you called? Me mother. What product was being advertised on the last commercial you saw? I haven't watched TV in forever. When you think about your last relationship, what song comes to mind? "Oh, Pretty Woman" by Van Halen REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE Are there any lyrics to describe your current crush/relationship? Eh. Who in your life makes you the most uncomfortable? Probably my sister's husband, really. I don't think he likes me at all. Treats me decently to my face, but I have my reasons to believe so. Do you ever receive comments on your weight? Not unless I'm at the doctor. Occasionally people who know me well comment I've lost weight, but it hasn't really happened lately now that my weight's slightly risen for who the actual fuck knows why. Don't get me started. Is there anything that you do just to make other people happy? Uhhh just for that sole purpose, don't think so. When you need a temporary escape, what do you do? Listen to music or sleep. What was the last lie that you believed in? I don't want to focus on it. What band would you most like to meet? OZZY. LET ME SEE MY DAD. What was the last thing that you wrote down [with a pen/pencil]? Psychology notes. Has anyone told you that you have a nice smile? Yes. Are you uncomfortable with being photographed? YES. How many people have you talked to today? Just Mom. We woke up in the middle of the night to screeching tires outside; someone lost control of their car because dumbasses go lightning speed around this cure we live on. When you go camping, do you sleep in a tent or an RV? Never legitimately been camping. What’s one ridiculous thing that you do? Let anxiety ruin a lot of opportunities. Do you feel that you must wear makeup to be attractive? Ehhh no, depending on your taste. Ever done anything dangerous while driving with someone else in the car? I don’t drive. Name someone you wish you could be closer with? There's a handful of old high school friends/acquaintances I have on Facebook I really wanna rekindle relationships with. I think I especially would like to get to know Courtlynn better. We seem very similar. What’s unique about your city or town? Its name is shared with a town in Tennessee. Are you a momma’s girl/boy? I'm very close to my mom. What is your favorite dance to do? *shrugs* What is your favorite song to sing? I don't really sing along with songs, but I suppose "Disguise" by MiW. It holds meaning to me and I also just love the chorus. Is English your 1st language? Yes. Did your older sibling ever tell you freaky stories that you believed? I DO NOT know why I remember this, but one time she told me that a boy in her class kept saying the same word repeatedly so many times that it became the only word he could say. It scared me, lmao. Where is the biggest scar on your body? I'd assume at the very bottom of my pelvis where I had surgery. I can't actually see it, but cleaning the area let me know it was kinda long. Do you have a yahoo account? No. Is your mom prettier than you? This is such a mean question, tf. What do you think about guys shaving their legs? You shave whatever you want, boo. Are you a violent person? Not at all, if you don't include my insane nightmares/terrors/whatever they qualify as. Those are always violent. Do you like word searches and cross word puzzles? I do. Have you ever gone to a private school? Yes, my college.

#survey #quiz #questions

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auntiejojo801-blog · 5 years

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The pause between my breaths

One of the most important parts of meditation is breathing -- controlled, slow, and even breathing. It's imperative to achieve this so the body can relax and stop focusing on any distractions, and healing and peace can happen.

When I woke at 4:30 AM last Wednesday I knew something was very wrong. My head was pounding, worse than I have ever felt in my life. I sat up and clutched my head, and stumbled to my bathroom. I got there and returned to my bed and took the ibuprofen and cough medicine I had been prescribed 2 days before. I lay back down in bed wheezing and coughing from just that minor activity and I couldn't breathe. I knew I needed to call my doctor but couldn't because I couldn't speak.

My coughing and wheezing roused Tyson who jumped up and wanted to help me. I knew if I didn't calm down, no oxygen would make its way into my lungs. I asked for a cool wash cloth and for him to just sit with me. After 5 minutes, I felt like I could breathe enough and I called my oncologist.

On the previous Monday, my oncologist gave me 2 days for my pneumonia to improve before doing more testing, and this was now the 2nd day...I clearly was not improved.

I told him my symptoms as best as I could and I was directed to go to the hospital if Tyson could drive me and I thought I could make it there without an ambulance. Tyson drove me. Before I got off the phone with my oncologist he let me know that he was going to run a CT of my chest when I got there, but he wanted to prepare me for what he thought the results would be.

My oncologist was brutally honest with me that he didn't believe he would find pneumonia, but instead that my cancer had returned and had now spread to my lungs. He wanted me to be prepared ahead of time, instead of surprised when the results came back.

My oncologist has a long history of experience and has seen many things, and I know through my own research that when TNBC comes back it goes to two places first -- the brain or the lungs. Since my brain MRI was negative the previous week I knew it was not there. I had only a chest xray the week prior and I know it is not the best test to show metastasis, rather it shows shadows which can be caused by many things.

I began crying as Tyson helped me get dressed, and I cried quietly the whole way to the hospital, as the nurses helped me get changed and settled, and as I lay there waiting for the results of the CT.

As hard as it was to acknowledge that I had breast cancer, hearing that it had likely returned was worse. I felt like I had left my house for the very last time, I would not get to tell people what they mean to me, would not get to recover and return to my life as I had been pushing toward, and these would be my last days with Tyson and my girls. The sadness was overwhelming.

My breathing was erratic, I was light headed, my heartbeat was incredibly fast, my blood pressure was elevated and my oxygen was dropping. I have enough medical knowledge to know implications of things. And as I watched the vitals monitor in the emergency department that I was hooked up to, I knew there were a lot of concerns. My oxygen level dropped into the 80's and I couldn't get a deep breath. The nurse stayed in the room and monitored me closely.

There is a point in the act of breathing in and breathing out where the body changes over from inhaling to exhaling. There's a pause in between each, brief as it may be, but it is a natural pause in the body to do what's needed for air exchange. I had no pause between my inhales nor my exhales. It was just in, out, in, out similar to hyperventilating. The air that was going in wasn't doing much. I was very tired, and dozed off several times however as soon as that would happen, my oxygen levels would fall and the alarms on the monitors would go off. I was startled every time which brought my oxygen levels back over 90%. My heart rate was in the 120's which is double what mine normally is.

Emily arrived at the emergency department and sat with Tyson and I in my room.

The staff took a chest xray when I first arrived and the results weren't good, there were more findings when comparing to the week prior, it was now in both lungs and it was larger. I laid there crying and praying for God to help me and to help my family.

After an hour, the Emergency Dept MD came in with the results of the CT. He gave Tyson, Emily, and I a pointed look, then sat down and pulled the CT results up on the computer. He explained that there were findings in both lungs, but after extensive review by the radiologists they favored an inflammatory/infectious process and not a metastasis.

Tyson asked how they knew for sure, and he explained that in order for the cancer to go from my breast to my lungs it had to travel through my lymph system, and since my lymph nodes on the CT scan were all normal, the cancer couldn't have just "jumped".

More tears from all three of us, a smile from the doctor but still a look of concern on his face he let me know I would be admitted and seen by many doctors to figure this out and get control of it because it was definitely not under control and it was affecting me quite badly.

Over the next 2 days I saw infectious disease MD's, pulmonary MD's, cardiologists, my oncologist and his team, my radiation oncologist, respiratory therapists, and other specialized medical technicians, all working to get a handle on what was truly happening to me.

In the end, it was decided that I had atypical aspiration pneumonia in both lungs from bacteria that was in my mouth from my abscessed tooth, and radiation pneumonitis which is swelling caused by the radiation treatment on my left side. Lots of medicine accompanied my 2 days in the hospital and my breathing had improved by Friday and the medical team all agreed that I could be allowed home with just oral antibiotics.

The one part that did not resolve completely was my headache, which kept me from sleeping and truly resting. The infectious disease doctor felt it was a tension headache. My oncologist let me know he was still going to think on possible causes because the MRI of my brain, CT of my sinuses, xray of my jaw, and lab tests didn't lean toward a sinus infection as the cause.

One thing he said resonated with me though. "Joanne," he said, "you went into this full force, nothing was going to stop you from having any chemotherapy, nothing was going to delay your treatment, or surgery, you went to every radiation appointment and had them, never complained or got down. What you have gone through is a horrific experience, and you haven't allowed yourself the time or space to accept that and work through it. For people that react the way you have, PTSD happens very frequently. It will all come crashing down on you. And at some point we will need to treat you for that."

I do realize that this past year I have been dealt some unbelievable shit in my life, and I need to be ready to be open about that and go over my true feelings about it. I truly believe I reacted in the only way I knew how, and that was to protect myself and survive. And I did that. And now I need to give myself the therapy my body and mind needs to come to terms with the depth of things that have happened to me, and accept what my future will be.

I am still sad, and my lungs are recovering, each day brings easier breathing but not yet any stamina to walk around much. My road to recovery is going to be slow, but I believe God has bigger plans for me and I'll make it through, not how I envision, but how He does.

Life can be very sad and it can throw curve balls, but life is worth it. I just didn't realize how much and why it was worth it before now. It doesn't matter what I look like or what I can do, what matters is that I am here. It's not a competitive event with challenges to beat, but instead, it's a gift.

Every single breath and pause in between is a gift.

#tnbc #breastcancer #kickingcanceroutofme #radiation

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blizzardfluffykpop · 5 years

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Two Sweethearts

Summary: Luck was on the both of your sides that night.

Taehyung X Female! Reader

Not requested

Trigger warning: If you don't like puking I'm sorry… or taking blood but I think it's only mentioned once

Prompt: 17. *opens present* “It’s a boy/girl... Wait... your pregnant?” (Okay the prompt didn’t play out like that but just act like it did :)

“Let's try for a baby” Taehyung says to me one day while we're doing our monthly cleaning. We've talked about it once or twice saying that we both want kids, but we want to be prepared to have the kids. Like have a stable income, a nice house, and that we truly love each other. We didn't want our kids to have to suffer through the trauma of their parents being divorced.

It's been two whole years since we've got married, there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of how lucky I am for him to be with me. Taehyung is kind, adores kids, he makes me laugh loudly, although he may be over the top for some people, that's absolutely perfect for me. He can turn any day upside down in the best way, he’s in the moment. We'll drive past an amusement park and he's like, you wanna go? And that's how we spend our day. Or when we started dating when I got into to college he would pop up outside my apartment door and he would be like I saw a puppy place and I was wondering if you wanted to check it out with me. He's spontaneous, hilarious, and many more things I can't begin to explain that I love about him.

We bought a house together a year ago, and we started building our nursery. Baby proofing the house, but we still haven't officially tried. We always use protection, so we haven't tried for them yet. I want to try, just as much as he does, so I sweep the last bit of dust into the garbage can, “Let's try” He grins at me, pulling me into, my broom dropping to the ground, “I didn't think you meant right now”

It's been three whole months since we've been trying and to no avail. We'd sit on the bathroom floor together and each test came back negative. To the point where we went to the doctor to find out what is wrong. The problem is I have low ovarian reserve and Taehyung as a low sperm count or Oligospermia as they called it. To be honest, we were both devastated to hear the news. There are two options we could go through, IVF were there would be fertile viable kids at the ready. Or, we could try, until our faces are blue, and be able to have a kid.

We talked it over for hours searching things up about the risks, and everything in between. He looked over at me, “The money isn't the problem I'm worries about… it's the fact that IVF doesn't always work the first time you get it done. That sometimes you have to do it more than once…” I nod, “I really want twins and I was searching it up for IVF, and it says that there are higher risks, that both of them could end up with bad health, one can die, which I worry about…” I trail off, Taehyung lays his head on my stomach, “Well, let's try one more time,... if it doesn't work then will go through IVF, how does that sound” I sigh taking my fingers through his hair, “I'm not sure” I mumble, and he grabs my hand, “Just give it chance”

I've never been so sick in my entire life, to the point where I'm about to just call the toilet my best friend. I hear the door open, I look over and see Taehyung standing there, looking sleepy, “Are you okay, babe?” I barely shake my head before I'm throwing up, I feel my hair being pulled back, and then he starts rubbing my back slowly, “I guess you're not…” I whine about throwing up for a few before I'm back to it.

“Isn't this a sign your pregnant?” He asks me, and I didn't think about it like that. I look at him and flush the toilet, finally, feeling my body is stable enough to stand up. Which I haven't been able to do since I woke up in the middle of the night. I brush my teeth real quick, and find one of the sticks and go back to the toilet and tell him to turn around, he rolls his eyes but nonetheless follows my orders.

I look at it comes back negative, “This doesn't make any sense” I growl and throw it into the trash can, and he hands me another, “I don't know how much pee I have in me so…” I pee again and this one comes back positive, “Okay, good sign, but I think we should go to the doctor…” My voice trailing off, “Alright, I'm going to get you a paper bag and help you get dressed and I'm going to slip on a shirt. I nod, flushing the toilet, just sitting there holding back myself from puking as I stand up. I pull up my pajama bottoms, and feel absolutely weak. Like the kind of weak you get when you first wake up and can't pull your phone from the cord. Taehyung comes back in and helps me get dressed to take on the day. I feel anything but taking on the day though.

If I'm pregnant, that means we got incredibly lucky, and luck was on our side. The doctor starts asking questions, and takes my blood, and after an hour or so the doctor comes back. He looks at the two of us, “Well, Mr. and Mrs. Kim congrats you're having a kid” I was five weeks pregnant and neither of us knew it since all the test were duds.

When he said a kid, I thought that's what he meant… He meant twins in reality, we went to have my ultrasound at my ninth week, and we found out they were twins the gender we won't know until the 3rd month. Which will be in December. Taehyung doesn't want to know till Christmas, he wants it to be a surprise.

December arrives and Taehyung has been babying me, much to my dismay. I like it but, sometimes it gets on my nerves. So I have to tell him to calm down and wait till my eighth month to truly stop babying me. Which he agrees, but that only last a few hours. I don't care too much, it’s cute that he cares so much.

Today, I get to know the gender with five days left till Christmas I'm excited for Taehyung to know as I will. I get called in, I kiss Taehyung's cheek, telling him I would be back soon. The female ultrasound technician grins at me, and she gets started prepping me to look at the twins.

“I know you're concerns about both of them living and they are still there and growing strong, usually they die in the first month if they are going to. But Mrs. Kim it seems they're strong, and the news you've been waiting for; one’s a boy and one's a girl.” The grin breaking out on my face is bright, and wide. When I get finished up I'm bounding up and down, “I'm so excited to tell you about it.” He kisses me, and tells me he's excited to hear about it on Christmas.

When Christmas finally comes, I've decided purple was the best way to go about telling him, and I put purple stuffed animals into a box and at the bottom of the box it says fraternal twins. The yellow would fit their bright personalities, and the purple stuffed animals will fit their royal hearts. I give the box to him last and sit next to him excited and he looks at it and at first doesn't understand, “It's a boy and a girl” He looks over at me shocked, ‘What you wanted and what I wanted” He pulls me over and kisses, so I decide to tease him, “Might wanna kiss me softer you might make the babies blush” He rolls his eyes, “This has been our dream… and we get it at the same time” I nod and nuzzle my face into the crook of his neck.

Six months later, I would be having two beautiful seven pound babies, the son being born before the daughter. Just the way I wanted it to happen. Yeah, it hurt to have them, but the sacrifice was worth the reward, and that’s what mattered. I knew the minute I saw them, I was going to protect them, and keep them safe. Let them make their own decisions, on what they want to be. After all, it would be their life not mine, you can only guide them when they get older. They know what they like, what they want. And if they ever question anything, I hope they know they can come to Taehyung or me, and we can talk about it.

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donnerpartyofone · 5 years

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sometime last september i had a bad cold with an ear infection. a bunch of fluid built up in my ear and never went away. i saw a doctor who suggested it would just disappear on its own, but that it could take three or four months. i took some antibiotics then, which didn’t help. he didn’t seem to consider it a problem. after a couple of months i came back, same deal. he gave me some anti-inflammatory nasal spray and some ear drops, which didn’t help. then i found a new gp and described the problem to her. she stuck her ear thing in my ear, wagged it around, and then just turned around and never discussed it with me in any way.

incidentally, i was seeing that second doctor because i was convinced i was dying from lung cancer. my mother was suddenly diagnosed with stage four lung cancer when she was my age and given a couple of months to live. (she surprised everybody by living for three or four years, which in my estimation was a lot worse than if she had just died right away) i found a gp who specialized in lung disease and explained that i have consistently restricted breathing in one lung that does not fluctuate in any way, and has been going on for a long time. well, my chest x-rays came back clear and i don’t have any other symptoms, so she just put me on some asthma inhalers. i had bad asthma as a kid, and this unceasing one-sided shortness of breath doesn’t resemble that in any way, but my doctor didn’t seem to give a shit about figuring out what was wrong with me as long as the inhalers seemed to be managing the symptoms. i felt like a theme was emerging when i told her about my ear, and she seemed to just look for whatever specific thing she would consider a problem, and when she didn’t see it, she just changed the subject.

so, naturally, i found a new gp. i went because my scripts for my inhalers were running out, and i didn’t want go back to the other doctor to get them renewed. mercifully (i guess although i’m really not dying to keep seeing more and more doctors), my new doctor is sending me for fresh x-rays and referring me to a pulmonologist. i also told her about my ear, and she checked me out and saw all this fluid behind my eardrum. she said this is very common, and might be there “forever”. it could be because of my naturally humongous tonsils, which is a pretty disgusting thing to hear about myself for some reason, or it could be allergy inflammation that’s contributing to the blockage. so the main thing i have to do is stop trying to pop my ear, which i want to do every second of every minute that i’m conscious, because it’s clearly, painfully wearing down my jaw. also, now i get to add an allergy pill to the 23 (24 depending on what’s going on) pills i need to take every day to manage other stuff.

the “other stuff” is mostly one condition, which is that my system processes copper so poorly that the buildup of this psychoactive metal in my system makes me chronically depressed, anxious, fearful and angry. nutrient therapy is a lot better than being hooked on opiodes...i think? but the number of things i have to take to avoid that is exhausting, and means that i spend an hour or two a day feeling like i’m going to throw up while i digest everything, which isn’t exactly a mood booster.

anyway, my new gp has also referred me to an ENT, which appointment can’t happen soon enough because sometime around 3am yesterday, i developed a loud ringing in the affected ear that will not go away, and by all accounts, might never go away. this is not the first time this week that i was told one of my senses will be permanently impaired for no particularly good reason. a few years ago, i had to have surgery and localized chemotherapy to remove some pathological scar tissue growing across my corneas. it hasn’t come back (although it might), probably thanks in part to the chemo, but now i have a buildup of surgical scar tissue on one eye that is causing glare and spots, and according to my cornea specialist, that’s just the new normal. the few treatments options are considered high risk for little reward, i guess.

depression has a way of casting you as a problematic person in the public eye: someone who is oversensitive, looking for attention, being negative, and refusing to deal with their problems in a mature way (because according to people who don’t really have problems, all problems go away if you just adjust your bad attitude). now, i hate going to the doctor because my experience of autism makes me cry and panic like i’ve been raped if anyone touches me without my specific emotional invitation. also, it’s very hard for me to think of any experience i’ve ever had with a doctor where something was explained to me satisfyingly, or where i got treatment that really worked--as opposed to me just coming out the other end, terrorized and humiliated, sitting there in a puddle of my own various fear fluids thinking, “wait a minute, WHY THE FUCK did i let them do all that random shit to me??” to wit: a couple of years where i submitted myself to a doctor to have core samples regularly, painfully, frighteningly drilled out of my cervix because of some abnormal test results. whatever’s going on COULD be precancerous, i was told. well, what else “could” it be, i asked? they just shrugged, and one day they told me they weren’t seeing the abnormality anymore and they didn’t have to keep mutilating me. so...i could have just been sitting on the couch this whole time? why did i do this, when i don’t even have any particular faith in treatment anyway? but, i keep doing to the doctor(s), because i’ve had it drilled into my head that it’s the “responsible” thing to do, and it will prove to the world that i’m a “positive” person who tries to find “mature” solutions to my problems. that makes it extra frustrating when nothing comes of it, other than the damning confirmation that nothing about me is really working that well, and it’s not going to.

of course, on top of the fact that my problems are not really manageable in any substantial way, there’s the added psychological pressure that comes from people not seeing your problems as problems. exactly one half of my face is affected by rosacea, making it extra obvious that something is wrong with me. having tried everything else that is supposed to manage my symptoms--including two different treatments that are “magic bullets” for 99% of sufferers, both of which made me react so badly that i looked like i’d been attacked by wasps--i decided to take the plunge on my last option, an extremely expensive battery of painful and kind of scary laser treatments. i had the last one this month. i’m not seeing any difference at all, and in fact i’m not sure it didn’t make things worse. no insurance really covers treatment for rosacea because it’s considered a cosmetic problem, even though it results in broken blood vessels and progressive thickening of the skin that anybody would consider a medical problem if they saw it in action. i can already see what’s going on in the mirror, and trying not to notice is not an option.

i realize, as i’m sure many people will be quick to tell me, that i’m actually very lucky. i do not have any “real problems”. i’m performing the basic life problems of a human being just fine. but i have to say, just to stick up for myself, that there is something really special about just having a collection of unrelated problems that just amount to, like, a bunch of bullshit. i have friends who have had, or currently have, really major life challenges--horrifying circumstances or conditions with which they have had to wage a heroic battle. of course i don’t envy them, but at the risk of sounding really incredibly petty, at least they made some kind of sense. the dragon arrives at your door, and it’s cancer, or hiv, or a neurological disorder, or a flesh-and-bone-eating disease; you don your armor and fight the good fight, or prepare to die with dignity, or in the worst case scenario, you just regular-die, but everybody totally understands it as a tragedy. there’s some kind of logic to it all, even if it’s completely unfair and arbitrary in the outing. it’s different when you just have a bunch of bullshit, none of which anybody thinks is a problem individually, and there’s no reason for it. your eye is just kind of shitty and your skin is just kind of shitty and your lung is just kind of shitty and your ear is just kind of shitty and your ovaries are just kind of shitty and your mental health is just kind of shitty (for chronic physiological reasons). so therefore, looking at things is just kind of shitty and having people look at you is just kind of shitty and hearing things is just kind of shitty and really, just being awake and alive is just kind of shitty. and there’s no narrative here, it’s not you versus your virus or you versus your mutating cells or something. it’s just you versus the fact that you’re just, like, kind of a fucking lemon. if your body were a car, you’d get rid of it, and just take the bus from now on. or stop going anywhere altogether.

when i’m not fighting off a violent reaction to my mounting collection of bullshit problems, i’m usually trying to find some meaning to my life. it’s hard to do. i’m not brilliantly intelligent or talented in any way that would make my career into the point of my life. i’m also not going to start a family (which would be a huge challenge for me anyway because of problems with my reproductive system), so that’s out. because of my anhedonia, i can’t really live for pleasure either--a fact which is surely compacted by the way that all of my individual parts seem committed to making any and all sensory input at least sort-of annoying, if not infuriating and claustrophobia-inducing. when it’s just me and my depression, i often think, “god, i really wish i could just achieve something in this life, then all this agonizing would be worth it.” i usually wind up reaffirming that i’m just an ordinary person, i’m not even very good at my hobbies or very knowledgable about my passions, there’s no chance that doing something special with my time on earth is going to save me. but then, of course, there’s my shitty, shitty, shitty physical condition. the only thing i really ever accomplish is preventing myself from screaming.

i realize that many people might want to frame stopping yourself from screaming as an accomplishment in and of itself. when you’re really challenged in life, you have to remember your context. like, one guy might be climbing the corporate ladder, and he has to face the challenge of competition and seizing opportunities and stuff; but when you’re, say, me, not-screaming can be a legitimately equivalent effort that you should be proud of winning at. both my best shrink and my worst shrink have tried to warn me off of comparing myself to others--to noticing, constantly, that compared to pretty much everyone i know i’m really defective, and in fact i’m way behind my peers developmentally because i have to struggle so hard just to get through my fucking day without ruining anything or taking a break for pure suffering. part of the reason to avoid comparing yourself to others is what i was just getting at, that you want to have an authentic sense of your own suffering without using an irrelevant-to-you method of measurement. the other part of it is that you don’t want to delude yourself into thinking that you are the only person who suffers, or that your suffering is the most extreme. my first/worst shrink approached this in a pretty hilarious way: she suggested that maybe ALL of my friends have ALL the same problems as me, they just haven’t mentioned it. first of all, this just shows a real ignorance of how many great complainers i know. but secondly, it suggests a world in which my closest friends have stood by while scars grow over my eyeballs and half my face burns and swells and my ovaries constantly invite painful degrading examinations and threaten cancer and my lung never opens all the way and my ear rings deafeningly et at ad nauseam, and they just...don’t say anything to me. for some reason my dearest companions just don’t feel like offering me support or solidarity or advice from their supposed rich experience, or even venting their own frustrations to an ear they know for a fact is sympathetic, even if it doesn’t hear too well. it’s an extra bizarre idea that still makes me laugh, when i’m not screaming.

now i have to get ready for today’s doctor’s appointment, the fifth of what i think will turn out to be eight this month, not including psychiatric appointments. it’s not for my ear, but i’ll definitely be bringing that up again, because i think i need to add an anti-anxiety prescription to my armory of pills, because i don’t think i’m going to make it through this experience without altering my chemistry until i just don’t give a fuck about anything that happens to me. plus i need to find out if tinnitus is its own thing, or if it is definitely always a symptom of hearing loss (that is, a deteriorating ability to perceive sound, as opposed to an incredibly loud internal sound that you just naturally notice more than other external sounds that you are still technically capable of perceiving). a minute ago, my husband got up and started stalking around our tiny apartment suspiciously. i thought he must have seen a bug, but he’s looking for the source of a weird noise that must be coming from our large mac tower, a couple of feet away. i absolutely cannot hear it at all.

#long post

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groovypaperpatrol · 6 years

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On trying to get pregnant...

I had been intending on recording my thoughts about this months ago for posterity… life gets incredibly busy and I don’t really get an opportunity to sit down and record my thoughts anymore, especially after becoming a mom.

My husband and I had been trying to get pregnant for approximately two years. We had a brief hiatus when we lived with my mom for a summer when we were waiting for our house to be completely built. We discovered in this time, that the reason that we were having so much difficulty is because I have PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome). I had been Googling symptoms of what I was going through and came across this and the symptoms that it showed matched exactly what I was going through. I went to my family doctor and told her about what was going on and what I had found out in my research. She asked me some further questions and determined that it would be worth it to send me for testing.

There was blood work, and a vaginal ultrasound involved. The results came back to her that I couldn’t have PCOS as I didn’t have any cysts. She decided she would refer me to a gynecologist to see if they could figure out what was going on. The only problem was the referral wasn’t for another four months and I was having symptoms that were severely impacting my quality of life. I couldn’t wait four more months to get answers. I took it upon myself and booked myself an appointment with a woman’s clinic. My family doctor is fantastic, no doubt, but she deals with general ailments, not specific woman’s reproductive problems.

Upon describing my symptoms to the women's health specialist, she expressed that I was describing the symptoms associated with PCOS. I told her that my family doctor had sent me for testing for this and she determined that it wasn’t PCOS. She looked up the tests in the universal system and told me that based on what I described and based on the tests that I very likely had PCOS but she was going to send me to another specialist - an endocrinologist - to find out for sure as they specialize in hormone issues such as this. I was expecting that getting into this other specialist was going to take some more months and that I was going to be left to suffer through the symptoms during the wait period to which ever referral came first in my timeline. Surprisingly though, I received the call for an appointment for the endocrinologist for the next week! Ideally I was going to finally get answers.

My appointment rolls around and Jeff and I go to the doctor’s together. I wasn’t sure what to expect so I wanted moral support there, and him being the amazing husband he is, came with me! I first met with a medical student to describe everything to him as he was learning the ropes of this discipline before meeting with the actual doctor himself. I went through the symptoms again, however this time they were asking questions about my personal history and my family history as well. Once the doctor had heard everything he told me that I had PCOS. I asked how that could be when my family doctor had done testing and came to the conclusion that I didn’t have it because I didn’t have cysts on my ovaries. The doctor told me that despite the name including cysts in it, cysts were actually one of the least common symptoms of PCOS. The big symptoms are hormone imbalances, irregular periods, and extra hair growth (because of extra male hormone).

He then asked Jeff and I what specifically prompted us to come in because that hadn’t been part of the referral that had been sent over. I advised that the immediate thing was the symptoms that were affecting my quality of life, but secondary to that was that we were trying to get pregnant and despite our efforts for almost a year we just couldn’t make it happen. The doctor then asked if we wanted to get pregnant right away because he said it was highly unlikely that we would be able to get pregnant without some additional help from medication, or medical procedures. We said that we wanted to get started right away, so he wrote up a referral for Jeff to get tested to make sure the problem was just on my end. We saw the doctor two weeks later who went over the tests results. The problems we were having only resided within me, so he wrote me up a couple of prescriptions and gave me the instructions to follow for these tests.

We tried twice on fertility medications and neither time they worked. In the meantime we had purchased a condo, and in order to save money on rent while we waited for it to be completed, we moved into the basement of my parents’ house. This put a halt to our attempts for a while until we moved into our own place upon completion. I had to wait a couple of months to get in to see the doctor again. When I got in, we started the regimen again. After the designated time I took a pregnancy test - and I was so sure I was pregnant - but the test came back negative. I was incredibly disappointed so I waited to go back in because I wasn’t sure if I could face the disappointment again right then. Jeff and I had a vacation planned anyways and I didn’t want to go and be pregnant, because I wouldn’t be able to fully enjoy myself (I thought anyways). This was all in the middle of February.

In March, towards the middle of it, I started feeling sick all the time. No matter what I ate, I could barely keep it down. Because I had already had a pregnancy test done, not once did I even suspect that pregnancy would be the cause of this. For almost two weeks, the only food I could even stomach were smoothies. I just thought it was food poisoning at first… just a mild case. Then when it lasted longer than a few days I chalked it up to just being a stomach bug of some sort. At this point I even went into the doctors for something… unrelated to the stomach issue at the time. I was curious due to feeling sick all the time so I asked if they could also requisition a pregnancy test when I was going for other blood work. It turns out that this test was never ordered. I didn’t think too much of it at the time due to the first test coming back negative and Jeff and I not having done a fertility regimen since January.

In the beginning of April, I started feeling better. I was still feeling really sick, a lot, but it wasn't a constant thing anymore. We were able to take our vacation as planned and had a great time. When we got back from our vacation I booked an appointment with our fertility specialist to try again as Jeff and I still wanted to try for kids. The appointment was for around May 10 or something like that. I went in to see him and we were chatting. He asked me the standard questions that he needed to before prescribing me the medications the previous times except this time he looked concerned. He told me two things, first, that he thought I was pregnant based on some of the answers that he provided. He gave me a pregnancy test to take at home in the morning and then to call him with the results. Second, he said that if he was wrong about me being pregnant, he could put me on the medication one more time before we had to start looking at something stronger as the treatments clearly weren’t working (we’re talking hormone injections, or IVF, that sort of thing). I told him that I had had a test done already and it had come back negative - but he wanted to be thorough just in case I had gotten pregnant in the intervening time since that test was done.

The next morning I took the test. The results came back… sort of? As most of the tests that I’ve done work, if you aren’t pregnant there is one solid line, and if you are pregnant there will be two. Well, I had one solid line and then a very faint blue line. I had no idea if this was a false positive or something like that. I called the doctor and let him know what had happened so he wanted me to go get a blood test to make sure. I booked for the following day… I was really lucky to be able to get in so quickly, which worked for me because I was desperate. I couldn’t stand not knowing what was going on. He received the results on May 14. I was driving into work, and I was stopping at McDonald’s to get breakfast because I was running really behind that morning. I had my phone out because I was expecting him to call me to let me know what the next steps were. It started ringing as I pulled into the parking lot so I quickly parked and answered the phone.

“Hi, is Laura there,” the doctor’s voice on the line came through. “This is she,” I responded, my voice shaking slightly. “Well, we got your results… and you’re pregnant.” I paused after this as tears filled my eyes. “You’re sure,” I asked. “Yes, the results are clear, however you are in the early stages of pregnancy so don’t get your hopes up. A lot can happen.”

Without fully thinking, I thanked him and hung up the phone and quickly phoned my husband to let him know. We were both ecstatic! We decided right away not to tell anyone until I was three months pregnant because we knew how risky pregnancy could be with my conditions……

#PCOS #conception #pregnant

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becuzpurple · 7 years

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Hospital - A One-Shot (pt 1 of 2)

I was asked for some Cuddly/Caring Ed and came up with this idea. The bulk of the cuddles and caring will actually come in part 2, though (sorry!).

I wrote a part of this from Ed’s point-of-view for the first time, which was really weird for me since I’m so used-to and comfortable using Kate’s voice. But she was unavailable (you’ll see why soon), so Ed needed to step up!

Enjoy!

Something was definitely not right. I’d had a stomachache since late morning. It was just below and to the left of my belly button at first, and then it traveled right. Eating didn’t help, and I was pretty sure it wasn’t intestinal pain, either. Painkillers did nothing - it actually got worse as the day went on. It was unfamiliar to me - I’d never felt pain quite like it before.

We’d had plans to visit my parents that evening, and celebrate my mom’s birthday. I wasn’t sure if I should cancel or not, or maybe just stay home and let Ed take the kids without me. But I decided to suck it up and go. At about 4 pm we all piled into the car and made the short ride over to my parents’ house.

My mother loves to cook. And even more than that, she loves to feed people. The old adage ‘Food is Love’ is a motto she lives by. Even though it was for her own birthday celebration, she happily spent all day preparing a delectable feast for her loved ones. She said that seeing her family together around the table enjoying both each other’s company and the meal she prepared for us was all she needed.

But not even my mom’s lasagna could fix this. I didn’t feel like I could keep much food down, so I just picked at it, taking a few small bites here and there. The pain was still getting worse.

Ed said I looked pale. He was concerned, as were my parents. My sister-in-law Amy, a nurse, was the first to mention that maybe I should go to the ER. Once I started running to the bathroom vomiting every 10 minutes or so, I reluctantly agreed with her.

I apologized profusely to my mom for ruining her birthday, and she predictably hushed me, assuring me that my health was infinitely more important than a silly party.

Nate and Lucy stayed with my parents while Ed took me to the hospital. We had no idea how long we’d be there, so figured it would be best if they spent the night with them.

Ed had to pull the car over twice on the way to the hospital so I could throw up.

What is this?

Worry was etched all over his face as he drove us through the stop-and-go city traffic. We didn’t talk much during the drive, but he kept his hand on my knee the whole time.

We were in the waiting room for almost an hour before anyone saw me. It was a Saturday night - the busiest time of the week for an emergency room. I visited the bathroom no less than 6 times to vomit while we waited. Nothing was even coming out anymore - it was all just dry heaves. I was in significant pain, I was miserable, and I was baffled. I came back to our seats from one of those bathroom visits, shaking my head and shrugging, feeling discouraged.

“Has this ever happened before?” Ed asked softly, his voice laced with concern.

“No,” I slowly shook my head. “I don’t know what this could be…gallbladder, maybe? Appendix…?” I felt my eyes go wider as I thought of another possibility. I didn’t voice it, though.

Which didn’t matter in the least, since he’d apparently had the same thought.

“Could you be pregnant?”

——————————————————————————————-

I was finally called back to triage, where I was asked a series of the usual questions:

Describe the abdominal pain. When did it begin? It started late this morning - dull, kind of centered, a little to the left. A few hours later it moved right and down and got worse - much more sharp.

Do you have a normal appetite? Not really. I don’t think I can keep anything down.

Any nausea or vomiting? Yes. I’ve been vomiting every 5-15 minutes for the past few hours.

Are you experiencing any vaginal bleeding? No.

When did you begin your last period? Umm, almost a month ago I think? I think I’m due in a few days.

Do you experience any pain with intercourse? No.

Any dizziness? No.

Any pain in your shoulder or back? No.

I also told the nurse that I’d stopped my birth control pills the previous month. It seemed like something worth noting.

She was the only person we’d shared that information with at that point. It was a decision we’d come to together, at the tail-end of what was honestly the most stressful, intense, nerve-racking, heart-wrenching, soul-baring near break-up/fight I’d ever been through. It lasted days, but in the end we were both clear and honest with ourselves and each other about where we wanted our relationship to go. Not that he hadn’t been forthright about that before. It was I who had been fooling myself, and by extension, him. But now it was voiced. It’s real. We are stronger, completely committed, and in it for the long-haul.

We weren’t exactly trying to get pregnant, but we were no longer trying to prevent it, either. It was a huge step, for sure. Given my age and my past miscarriages, we thought we might need to see a reproductive endocrinologist once we officially started ‘trying’. But we weren’t quite there, yet.

I knew that if I was pregnant, then it was very early, and something was probably very wrong. So, at that point I was praying that it was my appendix or gallbladder.

After another 40ish minutes of waiting my name was called again, finally, and we were led back to an examining room. But before we even entered, I was handed a sterile sample cup and redirected to the nearest bathroom.

I did my duty and returned to the small curtained-off area where Ed was waiting. I changed into the hospital gown the nurse had given me, and then she returned to take my vitals, including my temperature.

“Hmm. 98.5…no fever…” She looked a little surprised by this.

We waited an interminable 15 or 20 minutes, during which time I continued to dry-heave. I’d been given a clean, plastic bucket, but nothing was coming out, anyway. I was miserable. Ed was trying to distract me with stories of his own hospital escapades. He’s broken a lot of fingers and toes! Boys…

Finally, the doctor came back with the results. She glanced at me and then at Ed, and if she recognized him she made no outward sign of it.

“Everything was negative. You’re not pregnant so no ectopic pregnancy, you don’t have a UTI, and there are no kidney stones.”

I nodded. “OK…”

“There is definitely something going on. I suspect it’s appendicitis, but I’d like to run a few more tests to be sure. I’m ordering blood work and an MRI. But first I’d like to do a quick physical exam.”

I laid back and tried not to worry too much while the doctor applied pressure to various parts of my abdomen, observed my reactions, and asked me to rate any pain I felt on a scale of 1-10.

My memory of that night is a bit fuzzy, so my awareness of how time passed is not great. But I do remember waiting around a lot for tests and results and room availability and doctors. My blood was drawn right away, but we waited a while for the MRI to be done. Then we waited some more for someone to tell us…anything.

It was after midnight before Dr. Pianga returned.

“I’m confident that you have an angry appendix. Your white blood cell count is high, which indicates that you’re fighting an infection…although you don’t have a fever, which is atypical. The MRI images clearly show that your appendix is inflamed, and I do see what looks like a blockage in your appendiceal lumen, which is the hollow part of the appendix.”

“Does she need to have it out?” Ed asked.

Dr. Pianga nodded. “Yes, I’m afraid it needs to go,” she said, nodding at him, then me.

“OK.”

“I believe you’re a good candidate for a laparoscopic appendectomy. It’s less invasive than the open surgery, and has a shorter recovery period. It’s actually performed as an outpatient surgery, so you won’t even be admitted. You’ll be home by mid-morning.”

——————————————————————————————-

Ed’s POV

While we waited in pre-op, they hooked Kate up to an IV and started some medicines - antibiotics, a pain reliever, something to stop her vomiting, and a sedative. She became very sleepy, but also really hyper and chatty - even more so than usual. She spoke quickly and emphatically.

“I can’t believe I’m having my appendix out? This morning I had a stomachache and now I’m having surgery? That’s crazy. I’ve never even had surgery before.”

“No?”

“Oh, well I had a c-section. I guess that’s surgery, isn’t it? Oh, god I’m so glad it’s not an ectopic pregnancy. I was really worried that’s what it was…”

“Yeah,” I replied softly, nodding.

“I want a baby, Ed. I want to have a baby…babies!”, she said a little too loudly.

“Shhhh, OK. OK, darling.” I smiled down at her, smoothing her hair back away from her face, and then took a quick glance around to see if anyone else could hear our conversation besides Ebony, the nurse who just re-entered our curtained-off ‘room’.

“No, no…your babies, not just any babies…” she seemed to be under the impression that I might have mistakenly thought she wanted some random, general babies.

I was sat down on the edge of her bed, right next to her, and couldn’t help the smile that broke out at hearing those words.

I softly kissed her forehead, and then took her hand in both of mine.

“I want that, too,” I whispered softly.

I hated seeing her in pain, worried, and so vulnerable. This was new territory for me. I’m not very familiar with American hospitals or surgery procedures, and felt quite out of my element. I wasn’t going to let her see that, though. I knew it was a pretty common surgery, but I was worried, all-the-same.

The possibility of an ectopic pregnancy had scared the piss out of me. The idea of losing our baby before even getting to know him or her? No. Just no. And Kate has had more than her share of losses in her life. It would kill a good part of me if that were to happen to us. To her.

The anesthesiologist came back and administered the drugs via her IV to put her under. Kate looked a little nervous, so I whispered sweet and silly and entirely inappropriate things to her to get her to smile, and she was out almost immediately. Ebony was trying to hold back a smirk after everything she’d just overheard, and wasn’t doing a very good job of it. I grinned sheepishly back at her.

“Will she remember any of that?”

“Probably not. But believe me, she means every word she said. That stuff is truth serum.”

——————————————————————————————-

Pt. 2 - Home

As always, likes and reblogs are mucho-appreciated, as is any feedback you might care to offer. :-)

-BP💜

#becausepurple #becuzpurple #untitled 2-part one-shot!#LOL #ed sheeran #ed sheeran fanfic #ed sheeran love story #teddy sheeran #teddy sheeran fanfic #Ed & Kate #Ed & Kate love story #no smut in this one #not sure abt pt 2 yet #haha #Ed's POV #caring/cuddly Ed

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knowles-morgan · 7 years

Text

Chapter 2 Trying for baby

For the last six month Happy and you have been trying for a baby. At first, it was fun and exciting. Having sex with him morning, noon, and night. There wasn’t a spot in the house that you do haven’t explored and enjoyed.

“It’s negative again.” You said as Happy walked in that night.

Every month was the same thing. The first month you laughed it off. That just meant you and Happy would have to try more. The second month you started to worry a little, but you knew it took time. By the third month, you went to the doctor to make sure nothing was wrong. By the fourth month, it wasn’t that much fun anymore. Because you started following a chart for when and when you couldn’t get pregnant. It went on for the last two months.

“Doesn’t surprise me.” He said walking into the kitchen

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Let’s just drop this. It’s not worth it.”

“Are you serious. You started this.” You still had the test in your hand.

“I’ve had a long day.”

“Oh please forgive me. I just find out my husband doesn’t think having kids with me is worth it.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth.” He said turning to look at you

“Whatever. I got to get out of here.” You threw the test in the trash and grabbed your keys.

“Y/N.”

“Save it.”

You had no idea where you should even go, but you ended up at a little restaurant on the other side of down.

“Just have a seat sweetie. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Smiling at the waitress. You went to the booth toward the window. Not many people were in the restaurant. It smelled like vanilla and coffee inside. Toward the kitchen was a turning table of pies in a glass. They all looked so good.

“Welcome, my name is Sammy. What can I get you to drink?” Sammy looked to be a little older than you.

“I’ll have a tea.”

“Sweet or unsweetened?”

“Sweet of course.” You said laughing.

“The only way it should be. I’ll give you a few more minutes to be back to take your order.”

As she walked away you notice her baby bump. Where you honestly getting jealous of a pregnant woman. Coming back with your tea. She caught you looking at her stomach.

“I’m four months pregnant.”

“Is this your first?”

“No, my second.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks, sweetie. What can I get you to eat?”

Getting your ordered to go. You wanted to go find Happy and make things right. If he really didn’t want to keep trying for a baby. That was something you had to live with. You loved him before you talked about having a baby and you would still love him.

You had driven by the house and didn’t see Happy’s bike. Figuring he was at the clubhouse you headed that way. Pulling in you saw Happy’s bike. Getting out of the car you walked inside. What you saw you weren’t ready for. Some girl with hardly anything on you was sitting on your husband's lap and they were both laughing. Dropping your bag on the bar and walking over and pulling her off your husband before you even realized what you were doing?

“Y/N.” You heard Jax say

Ignoring him and throwing the girl on the floor.

“This is why you don’t want to have a baby with me?” You said pointing at the girl on the floor to scared to move.

Happy didn’t say anything he was so surprised to see you like this. He was actually really turned on. You never acted like this. Getting up and moving closer to you. When you didn’t move he picked you up and walked back to his dorm.

“Let me down!” You yelled at him

When he wouldn’t let you down he tried to hit him.

“Doll, are you done yet?” He asked walking into the room and shutting the door.

“With you? Yes.” You said when he put you down

Walking toward the door he reached for your arm and turned you around. Without saying anything he kissed you. A hard and heated kiss that you should have not had you melting right there. If this was what he wanted then you would be game, but then you would leave.

Pushing you against the wall and reaching the bottom of your shirt to pull it off when you hit his hand way. He smirked at you as he turned you around and pulled down your pants. It was over before it started but it let both of you let off the steam you were feeling. After cleaning yourself up. You walked out of the bathroom and took one more look at your husband before walking out the door.

Two months later

Things still haven’t been the best between you and Happy. He stayed at the club and you slept alone at home that he wasn’t doing good, but wouldn’t talk about it. Lyla told you that Happy hasn’t even looked or talked to the other girls at the club. Handles his day then drinks his night away. You weren’t any better. You went to work then came home and slept. The last week has been the worse though between throwing up and this same pounding headache.

You had promised Tara that you would come over spend the day with her and the boys. Getting up and throwing on some clothes you headed out to their house.

“Y/N’s here!!” yelled Abel as you opened your car door.

“Hey, little man.” You said picking him up and walking to the house.

“You doing okay?” Asked Jax as you walked in the house

“I can’t get rid of this cold, But I will be better soon. Where is Tara?” You said putting Abel down on the ground.

“Changing Thomas. See if Tara can look at you.”

“I’m good.” Was the last thing you remember before you fainted into Jax’s arms.

Happy was outside talking to Chibs and Tig when Gemma came out of the office looking upset.

“Happy you need to come with me to the hospital.”

“Why is that mama?”

“Jax just called and Y/N fainted and they took her to the hospital.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

“I don’t know hun. Let’s just get going.”

Waking up and at first not remembering what had happened. Looking around at the machine that was beeping next to you. Trying to sit up and getting hit by a dizzy spell instead.

“Don’t jump up babe.”

“Happy?”

Sitting down on your bed and putting his hand on your leg.

“How are you feeling?”

“Dizzy. Why am I here?”

“You fainted earlier this morning, but the doctor had a good reason why you did.”

“What’s wrong with me?’

“Nothing babe. You're having a baby.”

“We are?” You said putting your hand on your stomach.

Taking us hand and placing it on yours.

“We are.” he said smiling at you.

“Are you okay with it?” you said softly

“You're having my baby of course I am.” He said leaning over and kissing you

#sons of anarchy imagines #sons of anarchy baby series #happy lowman #part 2

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fatphobiabusters · 7 years

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Mod Ade can you please share your experiences of being fat and intersex? Any challenges with family, healthcare, academia, peers, work etc...

If you loves are okay with me making long posts, absolutely. I don’t know if you already saw my previous answer, but I touched on the topic a bit here: http://fatphobiabusters.tumblr.com/post/162494359738/question-for-mod-ade-you-said-you-are-intersex It’s more about my experience in general being intersex, so I’ll try and correlate also being fat in this answer.

**TRIGGER WARNINGS- child abuse, fatphobia, fat shaming, trauma, menstruation, self-harm, homophobia, intersex erasure

I’ll start with family since it’s the biggest topic for me. I’ll try and keep this short as possible because I could write an entire novel here, but I’ll focus on the major points. Having my intersex birth covered up and force raised as cisgender female was already hell and has left me with a lot of emotional damage. Being fat on top of it only added to the mess. My father did not want another child, but my mom did (he had children with another woman, so I have a half brother and sister both 15 years older than me who he thought were perfect since they’re both cisgender and skinny). Much less did he want one that was so “imperfect”, the complete opposite of my older siblings. I come from a white, southern, Christian family, so you can fill in the gaps there of the standards that were expected of me if you know anything about the disturbing culture of the deep south. Long story short, I had one parent who told me I was everything, and one parent who made me believe I was nothing. My father would harass and shame me to the point that I was too afraid to eat much or anything in front of him. Sometimes he would threaten to do things to my mother and even physically abuse her if I didn’t do what he wanted. My mother felt sorry for me, but wouldn’t go against him because of it, and would feed me extra portions in secret. Basically, it messed my metabolism all to shit and I could never keep my weight down, no matter how much I was made to exercise, starved, or put on diets. Growing up I was constantly put on crash diet after crash dietbecause my father was never satisfied with my weight (or my appearance in general). I was never good enough for him, even though I look just like him. To this day, even though he says he loves me and misses me over the phone, he still harps on me about my weight/appearance and refuses to accept me as his son. My mom loves and supports me though and if it wasn’t for her I would just completely cut ties with my entire blood family. Most of my immediate family refuses to also accept that I’m intersex, much less a man, and are disgusted about my weight. And they wonder why I never come home to visit anymore. It contributed a lot to my development of DID and later self harm.

Healthcare has been a nightmare. I’ve had a bit better experience since I’ve been in California, but even then it’s still not been the best. At age 9, I had my first puberty, and with it my first period. I don’t remember much (I have a lot of amnesia among my childhood memories from my DID that I'm currently working through in therapy) but I do remember crying and just feeling wrong. As I got older, it got worse and worse. But because I was labeled cisgender female on all my papers and my family constantly reinforced that I was, I was simply told to “suck it up” and that it was “normal”. I never had a regular cycle, it came and went whenever. Sometimes 2 weeks, sometimes 4-5 and every now and then up to 6 or more. Every time it registered 8-10 on those pain scale charts you see at the doctors, but I had to endure and ignore it because I only got reprimanded when I complained. I dealt with this all the way until nearly turning 30, which at that point I was bleeding black and had large clots that were full of decayed tissue more than blood. Last year I was finally able to get everything checked out and it turns out I had an abnormally formed uterus. Because of my second puberty, it was almost working against itself and practically a “dying” organ. I was able to be evaluated and approved for a hysterectomy, and I’ve never felt better. Back to weight though, in NC whenever I was taken to the doctor they always recommended to my mom anything to make me lose weight because I was “too obese” for a child (especially a “girl”), even though I had no problem carrying my weight. As I got older the same story. I’ve been seen about the sciatica on my right side, and my messed up back in general from carrying heavy art portfolios and working warehouse/builder jobs for many years. Every time my weight has been brought up, especially when I popped out my knee cap due to twisting the wrong way because someone parked like an asshole and I couldn’t get in. I’ve found some healthcare in the past year that has been more fat friendly, but every time I have to go somewhere new or for something new I get nervous that they’re just solely going to make it about my weight and not address the actual problem, or give me a proper diagnosis because they’re too hung up on my size. Perfect health record as far as blood pressure, diseases, tests, etc. go, but let’s ignore all that and point out I’m fat and “do something about it.”

Academic wise was no better. Children can be cruel, especially to those seen as abnormal or different than them. Sex Ed was a joke and I didn’t get a proper lesson on it till college, where I leaned that it was okay not to “fit the box” and that gender and sexuality were not black and white. Until then I felt very out of place and not belonging to either gender because neither of them really fit what all I was experiencing. Because I was forced to identify as cisgender female, being fat and “unattractive” got me a lot of unwanted attention. My size kept me out of most physical fights though, as I’ve always been big at a young age. And when I hit my second puberty, started putting on even more muscle mass along with the fat. I was constantly teased and ousted though for being so “weird” looking. My fellow classmates absolutely could not accept the fact that I didn’t look like (according to backward standards) one specific gender or the other. It just got worse as I got older and my body physically started shifting more masculine. I was seen as a freak, showered in my clothes when we had to take group showers for band trips or gym class (which eventually caused such a ruckus they had to separate me entirely), and taunted constantly to see how far they could push a rise out of me. Cisgender boys were curious about, but also downright cruel to me. Cisgender girls were disgusted by and afraid of me. It eventually got to a point where everyone just wanted to know what was in my pants or what was wrong with me. Homophobic remarks started going hand in hand with insults about my weight and appearance. I became more and more numb and reclusive and my mental illness worsened. Still, I maintained good school work at least, spending a lot of time alone. Graduated Valedictorian in middle school, Salutatorian in high school, and completed a Bachelor’s degree at a 4 year liberal arts college.

Among my peers now, I feel that I’m seen most often in a positive light as I’ve changed a lot from my days spent back home and have built an entirely new life out here in California. I still sometimes get confusion upon meeting new people and at times have a negative experience in public with strangers who don’t know me regarding my weight and looks. But overall the experience is good and I am often well received when I come out as intersex or share parts of my expansive history. I believe mostly due to surrounding myself with safe and understanding people, while cutting out a lot of toxicity (as well as unlearning that same toxicity) from my life.

Work has been about the same as academics, except not quite as explicit since I was a young adult when I started working. At college and coming back home I had issues with gender, especially when I had to use the bathroom. I always had to go into the women’s, and it was never a pleasant experience. I was also made fun of a lot for being the youngest (and one of the biggest) on shift. When I went to work for Amazon in TN, it was the first time I consistently went to the men’s bathroom (I had done so out in public places where I knew no one knew me, but not frequently). When I got promoted and transferred out to Cali, I continued the tradition. I would be lying though if said that there weren’t times I was very nervous about going in there alone because I did get some rude remarks at times, but thankfully no one was willing to lose their job over starting a fight because they didn’t like me being in there. As an assistant manager, most of my associates liked me as a supervisor and were favorable in working with me because I was a fair and helpful, but no nonsense leader. I got misgendered often due to my androgynous appearance and the high turnover in the line of work, but I enforced the idea that I was very much a man and would not tolerate any phobic remarks otherwise. I did have some who did not like the idea of having a younger, fat, questionable gendered person running the department and managing them. But at the end of the day, what I said went so they either had to deal with it or go find their bigoted ass another job.

Thank you loves for reading up to this point if you have, and I’ll end on this. If no one else has ever told you or made you feel that way, you are beautiful and so important. You are valid, you are loved, you are somebody, and someone cares very much about you. Never let anyone take your self worth away and deny your existence.

Apologies again for the lengthy post. Thank you for the ask!

-Mod Ade

#ade squawks #anonymous ask #long post #intersex #fat #fatphobia #intersex erasure #abuse #trauma #Ask

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theendofmyeffingworld · 7 years

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Juliet (Part One)

This fic is very close to my heart as it is based (even though very loosely) off of real events that is all to do with my parents pregnancy with me (yes I am very much a sap for romance). I hope you all enjoy!

All Betty Cooper ever wanted to be was a mother. To take part in raising a life that was half her. But, that was all getting flushed down the drain. Yes, she and her husband we’re still only in their mid-twenties but they had been trying for so long. She got married to Jughead Jones straight out of high school, never once doubting her decision to get married so young, she knew they were forever.

They had been trying for almost five years when Betty had started to give up, but Jughead convinced her otherwise. There were so many new ways to get pregnant, she could easily book an appointment with her doctor and find out their options. That led to her diagnosis. Betty was told that she wouldn’t be able to have a child. Everything happened so fast, all of the information the doctor told her was hazed, it was just a mix of sounds clubbed together and wrapped up in a neat bow. That night she had cried for hours in Jughead’s arms, blaming herself for the fact that it was unlikely they were ever going to have children.

----

The next morning the couple went and signed up for IVF treatment. It was going to cost a bomb, but they didn’t care. All they wanted was a child of their own, to love and nurture unconditionally.

So that led them to the day when Betty was going to prepare for her first round of treatment. That morning she had woken up feeling sick to her stomach but brushed it off as the flu. Upon entering the doctors surgery, she was asked to take part in a blood test just to make sure that she wasn’t pregnant already. She laughed at the nurse who took the blood, claiming that it was going to be a miracle if she was.

---

That was when she got the call. The couple had been lying in bed taking a well needed break from life. It was noon when the phone rang; Jughead leaned over his wife in a haze only pausing when he saw the number on the lock screen of her phone. Suddenly alert, he gently shook his Hitchcock blonde awake from her slumber answering the call as he did so. They wouldn’t be calling if everything was okay, something had to be wrong.

Lightly tapping the speaker button on the brightly lit screen, she took in a sharp nervous breath.

“Is this Elizabeth Jones we’re speaking to?” A clinical voice asked from the other end of the call.

“Yes,” she replied her hands shaking in trepidation, eager to get the call over and done with so she could face more bad news.

“Passing you over to your doctor now,” there was a pause before the warm comforting voice of the woman that she has now grown to trust spoke out.

“Hi Betty, its Doctor Fletcher here. We finally got the results back from your blood test you had last week.” Sensing the blondes’ nerves she continued, “This isn’t anything to worry about, even though you may have to in a couple of months but it appears that you’re off the list for the IVF treatment because you’re pregnant, congratulations! From what I can tell, you’re only a month or so gone but I would advise you book in your first appointment with Gina at reception as soon as possible. I hope to be seeing you very soon. Congratulations again.”

When their doctor hung up they didn’t know what to say, do or even think. Two pairs of eyes widened, each welling up with tears threatening spill in sheer, absolute joy. Jughead pulled Betty into his arms, cradling her head and stomach whispering sweet nothings in her ear, both of them unable to take the gleaming smiles off of their faces.

“We did it Juggie. We really did it this time.”

“I’m so proud of you Betts. I’m proud of us.” He replied leaning down and taking her flat stomach into his long calloused hands. The raven haired man left a trio of kisses down the length of her stomach down to her abdomen. Whispering to his unborn child I love you’s.

“Jug?” Betty said, bringing him out of his reverie.

“Hmm?”

“When should I book the appointment for? I know you’ve got all those meetings for the new book and I’ve got work. I presume you want to come along, right?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He planted yet another sloppy kiss on her lips.

“Jeez you’re such a sap Mr. Jones.”

“I know I am, and that is why you love me.”

---

They had finally managed to book an appointment with Doctor Fletcher that worked around both of their work schedules and were sitting, waiting on the worn plastic covers of the waiting room chairs. They were both nervous as hell, with one of his knees bobbing up and down as as his foot tapped the linoleum floor and she was wringing her hands together. A habit she picked up whilst she was trying to stop piercing the soft skin of her palms with her sharp nails.

When they were called into the office, Jughead blanched upon hearing that Betty had to be scanned internally, not realising that their child was too small to be seen using the external wand. Then came a sudden thrumming echoing around the room. Their baby was projected onto the small screen, no bigger than one of his thumb nails. The couple looked at each other, a fresh round of tears welling in their eyes, suddenly now everything seemed very real, all the years, all the negative tests, all the bad doctors visits, and it all was worth it. It was so worth it. The infamous duo fell even more in love with the baby, silently swearing that they were going to protect their kid with their lives.

They had ordered multiple copies of their sonogram after the scan was complete. Betty was determined to keep a record of all the milestones in her first pregnancy, including all the scans. Jughead tucked one in his wallet, so he could keep it with him at all times. Two were for Betty’s parents and Polly. Then the last two were for FP and Jellybean. He didn’t want his mother as a part of his child’s life, he still hadn’t forgiven her for when she walked out on him and FP when he was eleven. He still hadn’t forgiven her for when she denied him coming to Toledo. He still hadn’t forgiven her for when she refused custody of him when he was 16 and FP had been hauled to prison for 10 years for tampering with evidence and obstruction of justice. Thankfully FP had got out earlier than expected for good behaviour. At least one of his parents still showed that he loved him to some degree.

“Juggie?” He was pulled out of his reverie by that melodic voice of his wife and just smiled. He smiled because now they were finally getting everything they wanted.

---

Everything was plain sailing from then on; Jughead had decided to take a picture of Betty every day until she gives birth, much to her disliking and calling herself fat, which he immediately shuts down reassuring her that she’s only gaining weight from their child and it was the greatest gift she could ever give him.

That was until she was halfway through her pregnancy. Jughead was forced into yet another book signing for his new novel. He loved his fans, but all he wanted was to be at home with Betty and The Bump, a nickname that Betty was not too keen on to begin with, but he managed to sway her.

He got a call from Betty half way through the signing. He immediately knew it was bad, she would never call him when he was doing a signing or an interview so it had to be bad news.

“Betts? What’s wrong?” He said as soon as he accepted the call, halting the queue for his fans and leaving the room.

“Juggie I’m bleeding and it’s bad.” She said between sobs that echoed down the phone line causing him to freeze, going into full on panic.

“Don’t worry Betts I’m coming. Where are you?”

“I’m at Ronnie and Archie’s place. I’m in their bathroom and she’s literally trying to bang the door down. Please hurry Jug.”

“I am. I love you, okay. And Bug.”

“I love you too.” She sobbed again disconnecting the call.

Reentering the room which held his signing, he begrudgingly told everyone that he had to end the signing, apologising with promises to reschedule.

As soon as he left the bookstore he was in he ran. He couldn’t rely on the taxi drivers and traffic of New York City. He was close to Archie’s apartment anyway.

He heard shouting from down the hallway of their floor, knowing who it was he ran faster. He almost broke the apartment’s door with his need to get in there to his wife.

She was a state. When he picked her up and held her she just crumbled even more saying that she was never meant to be a mother and she had failed him yet again.

The redhead tossed the raven haired man a glance knowing what to do immediately. Jughead picked up his blonde as Archie ran ahead, opening doors and unlocking his car in time for him to gently lay Betty in as soon as he got to it

“Go Arch!” Jughead practically shouted as he took Betty in his arms once more, stroking her hair and whispering sweet nothings in her ear in an attempt to reassure her, even though he was crumbling too.

It took ten minutes to get to the hospital. In those ten minutes the trio in the car were all in tears one way or another. Betty was sobbing, Archie’s eyes had glazed over and releasing one or two tears and Jughead had a singular tear, rolling down his left cheek slowly in fear. He couldn’t lose another person he loved. Not again. They had tried so many times in the past, either never conceiving, or there was miscarriage after miscarriage. They were so close on this one. He knew he shouldn’t have built up so much hope, but he did.

---

Betty was taken into immediate care when they rushed into the reception of the hospital, whisking her away in a wheelchair and leaving Jughead alone to break down into almost nothing. When Betty was no longer in sight, he fell to his knees and sobbed. His black leather wallet he had received as a graduation gift from his father was battered with use because of a simple picture of his little Bug. He kept it in his wallet since he had got it. He traced the outline of his child with his thumb as he cried even more. He often thought that the conversation with his mother in a small phone booth in the small town of Riverdale when he was sixteen was the worst moment of his life. This moment outdid that and any of the other parts of his shitty childhood.

He was drawing attention to himself and he knew it. But in that moment he didn’t care. He got up, finding his strength and asked where Betty would be.

The doctors were still running tests as he approached the room his wife was in but he was allowed in since they weren’t invasive.

“Mr Jones!” Doctor Fletcher called him over wanting to discuss Betty.

“How is she? What’s wrong? Is the baby okay?” He started to bombard the doctor with questions about his family’s health.

“Betty and the baby are both fine.” She started, letting Jughead to take in a breath of relief. “Betty does have Placental Previa, however. Her placenta is lying very low in her uterus lining which caused the bleeding. She’s going to have to be on permanent bed rest for the remainder of her pregnancy and I would like to keep her in overnight for regular observations.”

“Thank you Doctor Fletcher.”

When he returned to Betty’s hospital room, he told her the news, generating a fresh round of tears but this time they were out of happiness.

“When the nurses were hooking me up to all these wires they said they can do another ultrasound scan if we want it. And we could find out the gender.”

“Let’s have the scan. I don’t really want to find out what Bug is, but it’s up to you. You’re the one who’s pregnant.”

“Jughead Jones, I was going to say exactly the same thing.”

---

Betty was bored, like she was most days. She hated being confined to her bed and not being able to run or go shopping or taking the subway to work. All her life included was sleeping, waking up, eating, watching her TV, eating again, washing and then the cycle repeated. She had watched everything on Netflix, read everything in her library and her kindle.

She had had enough though. She had fought with Jughead for no reason apart from her hormones driving her crazy. It felt like he wouldn’t let her do anything for herself anymore.

The blonde was now seven months into pregnancy and felt like a whale. Her fitness routine was abruptly forgotten on the day of the accident so she felt like she was gaining weight instead of being on course to lose it once she had given birth. Thankfully, she was allowed to get up because she had another check up with Doctor Fletcher.

The couple finally got to the hospital after being stuck in traffic for what seemed like hours. They followed their usual routine, only to find out that Doctor Fletcher was ill and unable to work so a replacement ran the scans for them.

They feeling of seeing their child would never change and with each check-up it was more incredible as the last. Months ago, they had been able to detect their facial features but this time was different.

“She has lovely eyes,” their replacement said in passing. The couple’s eyes widened and locked onto each other with tears gathering in their lids.

“We’re having a girl,” the father-to-be whispered to his wife.

“We’re having a girl.” Betty echoed with more enthusiasm.

Jughead pressed his lips lightly on the blonde’s forehead with so much pride and love. He wanted this moment to stop forever, his feeling of bliss overwhelming his senses.

“Have you felt any movement other than kicking Mrs Jones?” Their replacement doctor asked.

“Not really, but she does kick a lot. Why, may I ask?”

“It looks like she hasn’t started moving her head to face the cervix; still you have plenty of time before she arrives.”

---

That night, Betty woke up with a sharp pain in her abdomen and wet bedsheets. She shook Jughead awake knowing that it was time. He woke up in a daze, only snapping to life when he saw the same panicked look on Betty’s face as there was four months ago.

Grabbing the hospital bag that had been situated by their front door for over a month and lifting Betty into his arms, he made his short journey to his car and then to the hospital.

The mother-to-be was whisked away in a wheelchair with Jughead following quickly behind them. He only caught a few words but it didn’t sound good.

The doctors on call were going to have to perform an emergency Caesarean section so their daughter would be able to survive.

It was the longest fifteen minutes of his life, not being able to be with Betty. A nurse soon exited the room, passing him sterile clothing and asked him to sterilise his hand before entering the operating theatre.

Betty was so out of it, he let out a small laugh at the sight. He held her hand throughout the procedure only letting go when he heard the soft cry of a new born baby.

The nurses took her to a station to clean her up slightly before handing the new born to her waiting parents. Betty held her first, her bright giddy smile reaching her eyes. Jughead wished he had a camera to capture this moment because it truly was a beautiful scene.

Jughead finally got to hold his daughter when the doctors needed to stitch Betty up. She was so tiny; he could hold her entire head in his large calloused hands. Her fingers were so delicate they would only just be able to wrap around his smallest finger.

He had only once felt such love for a person before and that was when he and Betty confessed their love to one another for the first time. The second was now, gazing on the sleeping features of his daughters face and knowing that he could love no other person the way he would love her, not even Betty.

“Hey little one, I know you’re sleeping right now but I love you so much already and you were only born a couple of minutes ago. I promise to protect you from now until the day I die and no boys until you’re at least 25 because we can’t have anything happen to you can we? We’ve wanted you for so long and you’re finally here. Isn’t that amazing? I love you little one, so so much.“

After mere minutes of holding her, the nurses had taken their daughter away to do some tests on her, making sure she was healthy due to Betty giving birth prematurely.

---

The family of three were finally in Betty’s hospital room waiting for her to wake up from surgery. The new father was sat in the large chair beside Betty holding his daughter who was sprawled out against his bare chest, going skin to skin.

Archie and Veronica had messaged him saying that they were only a few minutes away from the hospital however the rest of their friends and family would be arriving the next day.

Betty’s tanned hand reached out to stroke the soft head of the sleeping baby girl as soon as she woke up, craving contact with her daughter.

“What are we going to call you, Little Bug?” The blonde cooed as Jughead passed the now awake new born into her mother’s waiting arms.

“What about Juliet?”

“Hello Juliet,” Betty spoke to their daughter, gently rubbing her thumb across her belly. “Mummy and Daddy love you so much. Never Forget that Little Bug.”

#Bughead #bughead fanfiction #betty cooper #jughead jones #betty x jughead

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mydrinkproblem · 5 years

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Better

It’s been almost 2 months since I last made a blog post. Which is far too long considering that I wanted to try and update the site every month. I’ve been writing but have procrastinated for far too long.

After speaking to my doctor about feeling depressed and having suicidal thoughts and then being assessed - I felt good. Good that I was finally actually doing something about it. What I didn’t know is that almost five months later I’d still be waiting for my therapy sessions and not have any idea as to when they’d start. As the wait got longer I started taking the antidepressants, I didn’t want to but thought that they’d be the next best thing. Then I kinda gave up in December, being off work and having alot of time to myself really messed things up. I reverted back to doing coke and have found it pretty hard to stop since. I’ve probably spent somewhere in the region of £700 on coke since mid December. Recognising the problem I said to myself, ‘next month (February) I will stay clean,’ thinking that it’s a short month so that was a realistic goal. Wrong. I’ve just carried on, infact I’ll probably only stay clean next week because I don’t have a day off.

My annual tradition seems to be to start off the year with an STI. I thought that this year was the same as I could feel what I thought were warts and so I booked a test. That feeling of dread, knowing that I should have used protection the last time that I had sex and not knowing what you may have caught is awful. I now know that I was one of several partners the girl that I slept with last had the night that I was with her. So much so that her flat mate was shocked at her behavior. I had a runny nose when I was with her, which really was down it being so cold outside but she didn’t believe me and kept asking me for coke. She did other drugs and when I was leaving I saw her going into her room with some tin foil which filled me with dread. All of my tests came back negative - which is great. Having to go to the clinic was good though, they asked me whether I take any drugs during sex and I explained which ones. They asked me whether I have any problems with drugs at the moment, I said, “yes - coke,” they said that they’d get in touch with me regarding the support that they can offer me. I’d spoken to someone before but they just told me that I didn’t have a problem so hopefully it goes better this time.

A friend of mine was congratulating me for staying sober for so long. I sheepishly took his compliment but he seemed bemused that I didn’t seem to acknowledge the significance of what I’d achieved. My other friends that were there stayed silent, they knew that I’d swapped booze for other drugs. I didn’t tell him but he repeated it later on in the night. I look forward to the day when I can accept such compliments guilt free. Furthermore, there have been times in recent weeks when I’ve considered swapping the coke for alcohol. ‘At least that way it’d be cheaper,’ I thought. The embarrassment of going back into the off licence that I used to visit every evening after work, buying the cans that I used to drink every evening and having to explain where I’d been the last two and something years to the shopkeeper put me off it though. So did the fact that I’d have to write about it and tell you. Those are things that I don’t want to do.

Another friend of mine has been supporting me, encouraging me to go out even when I’ve been set on spending the whole day indoors. Bless her but she doesn’t also know that I’ve been battling to stay clean, I dare not tell her because she can’t keep things to herself and the last thing that I want is the rest of my friends knowing. Even so, whenever I do meet friends with aim of talking to them about stuff, our conversation is dominated by them talking about their problems and it doesn’t seem that they have even noticed that I may have things that I want to talk about too.

I recently went on a date and it was quite the experience. She was an hour late, she didn’t give me any updates and she turned up just when I was about to leave. Luckily my booking was for an hour after I had told her otherwise things would have been even worse. We played mini golf and had drinks after but I couldn’t hear here because the bar was too loud so we went to look for somewhere quieter. People stared at her because she was trans and I thought that was so rude, you could see that it made her feel uncomfortable and she lacked a bit of confidence because of it. As we wandered around I suggested, “a pub or bar,” to which she sarcastically replied, “another loud place?.” In the end we ended up at Nando’s, I paid again. She claimed to have been Nando’s before but she didn’t have a clue what to order, in the end I had to help her decide. She didn’t want to leave after we’d finished our meals and she didn’t want the night to end but I knew that she had work in the morning so I walked her to the tube station. She kissed me before she left and we stayed in contact after that but it was always due to me starting the conversation. Things have since fizzled out because I made a mess of Valentine’s Day. To the point where I can no longer see her Whatsapp profile picture because she has probably deleted me from her saved contacts. But as a testament to the kind of hot mess that she is, I can still see her Whatsapp story - stupid right? I spent £100 on that date and can’t really say that it was worth it. I was open with her far more than I have been with other girls and after this experience it will be hard for me to do it again. Perhaps my next first date can be in a coffee shop, that way it’ll be cheap if I’m paying for everything. It’s 2019, should guys still be paying for everything on the first date?

youtube

#addiction #coke #alcohol #drug problem #drink problem #date #trans #mh

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