Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Lost at Seasick

Hello friends! I'm here and doing well, but very very VERY sick. The nausea ( thank you Bee for your tip, now I can spell this word ) is constant, unrelenting, day and night. I tried a medication that the midwife/nurse prescribed over the phone but it made me feel 'buzzy' and sleepless and that can't be good for Baby, so I tossed that.

Things We've Tried For the Rolling Pregnant-Sea
acupuncture bands ... did nothing
saltines ... help control it
seltzer water ... help control it
ginger tablets ... threw up three times, no go
not rising from bed till nibbled crackers .... no help
b vitamins .... can't tell
preggo tea ... in short, NO

I am consumed by my body. Life is about working, resting, sleeping and paying what attention I have left over to my family. I haven't been able to look at the computer screen without throwing up, and the last few days I finally found I could read a nighttime book without getting sick. My stomach burns, rolls, churns, heats up, sighs, heaves, purrs. It does everything but be silent and still. I have a noticeable baby bump. I feel dizzy at times, flushed with heat and then cold, and already I feel the slightest push of pressure on my pelvic area. My urine is darker, my nipples darker, my breasts tender and slightly larger. I am at work, sick and keeping face, I am at home on lunch break throwing up, napping and racing back to work, I am at home at the end of the day while Mr. Curry makes dinner and I help Lola with homework. Last night I ate some chicken and then tossed it all up when Mr. Curry made the daring move of bringing butter to the table.

I can feel the creativity evaporating. I have no words or stories or desire to communicate much, just the slow steady thrum of getting through each day, submitting to my body, trying not to worry too much that I can't keep Baby's vitamins down. Poems hang unfinished in my computer files, clusters of poems left unsubmitted, my email 400 messages, my novel untouched. I have no sex drive. My puss lays silent and observant, aware that the gig is up and we've been penetrated and conquered. I am tired, and dreamy, and afraid of things I won't name less I make them true. I am waiting patiently for the earthquake in my body to subside so that I can feel anything else. Joy lies under the surface, tempering all of this. Lola sings to the baby at night. Dakota is affectionate and protective. Ian is sweet and gentle. Mr. Curry is perfection, doing everything, helping, supporting, excited through and through to have our baby.

Our first OBGYN appointment is May 8th. We will find the due date.

I miss you all.

maggie may

Saturday, April 18, 2009

Preggo, My Eggo

I'm so sick. The happiness over this little tiny growing babe inside me is on Mute, pressed down with the consant, ever present naseua I am feeling, which let's up occasionally so that I can realize even more deeply and happily that I am pregnant! And my heart quickens and I put my hand to my stomach and I think about our morning routine and how much earlier I'll have to get up, and hm maybe I could put the baby mat here, and look at how excited Lola is and oh my gosh Dakota will be in college before the baby is in kindergarten, and oh my god the love of a baby, car seats, stroller, nursing, co-sleeping, the birth, my scar tissue from endometriosis, I got pregnant after Stage Four endometriosis! my insurance, calling Mr. Curry and telling him and his happiness so great he can't get to sleep at night, the children talking about names and what they like and don't, a Christmas approaching with a new baby in the house! the smell of my babies, oh shit I gave all my birthing and labor books away over the years, I am already grown out of most of my pants, my breasts are slightly bigger and my bras getting tight, my ass bigger, no fucking WONDER I wasn't losing any weight I was so puzzled why my excercising was making my stomach BIGGER, my mom is so happy, my work girlfriends the most supportive and loving and sweet girls I could have ever dreamed of working with, my whole family happy, my eyes sweep the living room and already I can see the baby, here in Daddy's arms, here on his/her mat cooing, here in my arms screaming, there in a sibling's lap.

A baby. A new baby. Our new baby.!!!!

We got a new car after mine went finished. This one is adorable and a small black SUV with less than 100,000 miles on it and in perfect shape. We got an amazing deal, too, through Mr. Curry's cousin Rob. :)

Meanwhile I'm too sick to read, to be online for more than a few minutes at a time, to talk on the phone, to go to Mr. Curry's grandparent's sixtieth anniversary dinner tonight. Mr. Curry took our three children and I'm here.

Duration of Pregnancy: 9 months
Times Thrown Up Daily: 2
Days in 9 months: 270 average
Amount of possible puking left to do: 540
Amount of times people have already said they think it's twins: 4
Amount of times I've peed myself while throwing up: 2

I've never been this naseaus with a pregnancy. All day, every hour of every day, even when I wake up at night. Terrific cravings that make no sense, which I've never experienced before.
Actually desired avacados and hot dogs the other night? GROSS. I don't even LIKE hot dogs.

Episodes of past vomiting before confirmed pregnant that now make sense: 2
Episodes of flushing and exhaustion "" : 4
Times Mr. Curry has kissed my belly since confirmation: 5
Times Dakota has called me Preggo my Eggo: 5
Times Mr. Curry has driven to get something to help with my stomach: 5
Amount of minutes in the day I thinkortalk about baby names: 180

Yes, I've tried: Ginger Ale, Saltines, Coke (i'm so sorry, baby!) Sprite, Protien, eating crackers for 20 minutes before exiting bed, praying to God over the toilet, sipping water and walking. Coke, Saltines and eating before getting up help a little.

I have not been to the OBGYN yet, and can't wait to find out the due date. We are thinking I might be 2and1/2 months along, but we'll see.

Things that will change with this pregnancy: I will learn how to spell nasueas (nope, not it)

One month ago: I was pretty sure I'd never be able to get pregnant, after two separate doctors telling me the chances were highely unlikely due to Stage Four Endometriosis and three prior surgeries on my abdomen and left ovary, My car had exploded and whimpered away in a puff of smoke, and we had no idea how to navigate a down payment for a new one.

Now: I am pregnant and driving the cutest car I've ever owned.

You never know.


Friday, April 17, 2009

How Can We Help This Homeless Family?

Please read Tangobaby's post about this homeless family. How can we help?

Wednesday, April 15, 2009


Yes :))) I'm pregnant :))))
(and i'm going to go throw up now)

Monday, April 13, 2009

Booklovin: Mini Bookshelves


Saturday, April 11, 2009

Fascinating and Magazine Worthy Post on Lee Radizwill

Read Cote De Texas blog post on Lee. She clearly put so much work and time into the post- it's
probably the best 'piece' I've read on a blog in journalistic terms. Wonderful, fascinating.

All Weekend They Say To Themselves

with books in my lips and teeth pressed into my honey crotch open like lover's split over my face and delicious as skin to the tongue black words and fragrant pages asleep in the curl of arm my baby draped across naked breast my lover pressed against my forehead my teacher piled in shelves and tables my home i sleep in saturated thought technicolor dream words that mean everything or nothing lined erect with intellect, slutty drunken flings my mind bends, the soul swings, thoughts expand i am inch by inch absorbed and released again i read to understand but most of all to know once, someone understood.
-maggie may ethridge

Friday, April 10, 2009

Friday Flux: Miracles

It's a fairytale so tragic
There's no prince to break the spell
I don't believe in magic
But for you I will, for you I will
If I'm a fool, I'll be a fool
Darlin' for you


Sleeping beauty awakes from her dream
With her lover's kiss on her lips
Your kiss was taken from me
Now all I have is this

Your kiss, your kiss, your touch, your touch
Your heart, your heart, your strength, your strength
Your hope, your hope, your faith, your faith
Your face, your face, your love, your love
Your dream, your dream, your life, your life

I'm runnin' through the forest
With this wolf at my heels
My king is lost at midnight
When the tower bells peal
We've got no fairytale ending
In God's hands our fate is complete
Your heaven's here in my heart
Our love's this dust beneath my feet
Just this dust beneath my feet
If I'm gonna live
I'll life my life
Darlin' to you

"There are only two ways to live your life . One is as though nothing is a miracle, The other is as though everything is a miracle"
Albert Einstein

The Miracle Of Birth

The Jackson family lost their beautiful girl Lucy to a tragic accident. Now they welcome baby Peter into their family. Isn't he divine?

The Miracle Of Rebirth

Just short months ago Nie was badly burnt in the horrible plane crash that injured her Mr. Nielson and killed a family friend. Now she is writing this, and that is a miracle. I love you Nie

I remember as our plane violently crashed to the ground, I tucked my head down on my knees and prayed. I was not alone then. I felt rather calm in a very troubled moment which seemed to last forever. The plane whistled fast downward and in my head I saw my children. I saw them laughing and smiling. It was touching in such a dramatic time yet another peaceful reminder that I was not alone then, and certainly not now.
I am grateful for my relationship with my Maker. He has preserved my life, given me a second chance and presented me with new challenges that I am ready to face here on this beautiful earth. All that I am is for my children and for my husband but espcially to my Father in heaven. I am trying to live selfless in a selfish world and it is hard, espcially when I'm the one with the problems.
I feel your thoughts and prayers and I certainly know I am never, ever alone.
Thank you.
- Stephanie Nielson

The Miracle Of Love

mommy and Lola

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Goodbye, Sandra Cantu

where are you? you were in
river why always inside river
water what is is about a body
of moving water that relinquishes the motions

of a murderer. they believe water
will take the baby and she will be gone
gone gone. they are wrong. little she is pulled
from the lap, released into custody, tenderly attended

to. each person that touches her
is too late. your mother remembers
nothing yet. she is erased and every second
of her life from now on will be new in the oldest way.

when the pain begins
like chemo, into her veins and heart
it will burn her. it will burn her up alive.
she will be held and loved and it will eat her away.

this is nature's way of protesting
an abomination, that a child should die
before her parents. that a child should die.
that a child should be murdered and left alone in the river

packed up inside a suitcase.
her arms and her legs, the place of soft
in her armpit, the soft of her lips, the soft,
unbearable soft of a little girl, made suitcase

your father is caved in
old man every man becomes
if his child is taken from him
by man turned into beast
your father is the oldest
man alive, and he will stay
alive only because he will,
and not for any other reason that we make up

like hope. he is simply alive
where are you simply gone your mother your father they wait to find out ////////
to see you again will you know my name

i believe i see you in river
water and your mother's heart
i feel your father's heart i feel i am leaving this
as ( _ ___ no )

i believe half of the people reading
this will have begun to stop, and their
veins harden and they can hear the sound
of the river moving over a baby in the suitcase

and because they are afraid
hearts might burst open
bleed to the point of exhaustion
or death, they cannot know about this

they cannot love you.
if the definition of love
only extends to those we
touch and know, we are going

to have these babies in the water forever.

maggie may ethridge april 7th 2009

(CNN) -- Police said they are pursuing leads in the death of 8-year-old Sandra Cantu, whose body was found Monday stuffed into a suitcase in a dairy-farm pond near her Tracy, California, home. Sandra Cantu, 8, disappeared March 27. Her body was found at a dairy-farm pond near her Calilfornia home.

Sandra Cantu, 8, disappeared March 27. Her body was found at a dairy-farm pond near her Calilfornia home.

"We are heading in a direction," Tracy police Sgt. Tony Sheneman told reporters. "To comment on that would compromise the investigation, and I can't do that."

A search warrant was executed at the Tracy mobile home park where the girl lived, and a related search was to be conducted Tuesday at a nearby church, he said.

He implied more than one person may have been involved in the death of Sandra, who had been missing since March 27.

The day Sandra was last reported seen, she returned home from school, kissed her mother and left to play with a friend who lives nearby. A short time later, wearing a pink Hello Kitty T-shirt and black leggings, she left to go to another friend's home, according to a family spokeswoman.

Police said Monday the girl's clothing helped them identify the body.

Monday, April 6, 2009

The Art of Aja Anderson

General Bird

Foxy Lady


Visit Her Here

Saturday, April 4, 2009

We Will Be OK

Wake Up, Maggie I guess I've Got Something To Say To You

He comes my door. He looks 80, he is 60. He asks for work, ' Neccisita trabajar? ' Sure. Sure there is work that needs to be done, a lot of it. The front yard needs mowing, clipping, the back yard needs weeding, mowing and clipping. Dirt needs to be shoveled. In the brown leather wallet my Grandma Elizabeth gave me for my birthday before she got too sick with Parkinson's to buy birthday presents anymore, I have $120 dollars, all of which is being given to COX for phone, television and internet, the things that are our households pleasure activities, what we can afford for entertainment, outside of the bookstores, hiking and free outside activities we do regularly.

We have a four bedroom house with an enormous and beautiful sunroom, where I am typing this now. We have four cats and two dogs and three children and medical bills that could ruin a small country. We pay the minimum balance on our bills every month and have no credit cards or debt outside of my medical and his IRS from the business folding, ie: no pleasure debts. We are lucky to have Grandparents for our children who pay for their summer camp and school activities. We rent a room in our home. We work full time. We take classes at community college when we can. My car is making a loud clicking noise when I press the gas and is going to die anyday now, and we have no money to fix it. We are not making it, but we are making it. We are afloat on top of a sewer.

He has no home. He has left his entire family back in Tijuana to walk the suburban streets of San Diego and knock on thick wooden doors to ask for work. He wears the same jeans, cowboy boots, belt and shirt every day, and a hooded sweatshirt when it is cold. Sometimes he rides a bike the local church donated. He stands in front of Vons looking for work on weekends. His face is deeply lined, his body lean and compact. He spends hours each day walking. He does manual labor in strangers houses, for less than minimum wage. He has no health insurance, and if anything goes wrong that is not an emergency, he has nowhere to go for help. He has spent his entire life working very hard and has no savings, no house, no knowledge that there is any kind of better future waiting for him, no money for luxeries and pleasures to help him forget that life is so hard.

I take out my wallet and force myself to give him the $10. I am not proud of myself. It was hard to give him a pathetic ten dollar bill in exchange for his hard work. I could give up my coffee for a week and that would be his meal. I watch him leave with bag of food I handed him and think about him, and then I think about myself. What kind of life do I want to live? What kind of person do I want to be? What the fuck really matters to me in this life?

What really matters?

' What we do for ourselves dies with us. What we do for others remains and is immortal. '- Albert Pike

Thursday, April 2, 2009

Friday Flux: Blog Crushes

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens
Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens
Brown paper packages tied up with strings
These are a few of my favorite things (blogs)

The English Muse

Cream colored ponies and crisp apple streudels
Doorbells and sleigh bells and schnitzel with noodles
Wild geese that fly with the moon on their wings
These are a few of my favorite things

Bless Our Hearts

Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes
Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes
Silver white winters that melt into springs
These are a few of my favorite things

Is There Any Mommy Out There?

When the dog bites
When the bee stings
When I'm feeling sad
I simply remember my favorite things
And then I don't feel so bad

The Rock Star Diaries

xo maggie may

Thank You, BlondieLox

The talented and sweet Blondie Lox sent me some beautiful postcards she made from her photos. You can view all her items for sale at Etsy here

Thank You Blondie:) I'm putting some up as eye candy and mailing some with little notes:)

No Need To Argue Anymore

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

I Met President Obama This Morning!!!!

He smells like black honey, he kissed me, I'm swooning....

You read the post labels, don't you?:)
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