Dancing the Night Away!

Foster and I attended the annual Ohio National Guard Winter Dinner and Dance. They decided to hold it in a hotel this year, making it convenient and safer for those who wanted to drink and have a little fun. Foster and I had tossed the decision back and forth on whether to get a room. We decided that if I was not pregnant this month ( I would have found out 7 days before the ball), then we would get a room so that neither one of us had to be the responsible adult and drive us home. I have to admit, although I would love nothing more than to have Rosalynn here, or be pregnant with her brother or sister, it is the little things like this that make me look on the positive side of not having children to worry about. (I have to look at the bright side to keep myself sane).

I had to work the night before so I was afraid I would be exhausted. I had to get my nails done before my hair appointment with the girls at 2pm. I woke up at 11 and rolled myself out of bed, headed to the salon, and got a manicure and pedicure. Foster packed our bags, and when I got back we headed towards the hotel. I met the girls at the salon, and the hair artists commenced on out locks. They hair style came out beautiful!!

MINE! LOVE IT!!

Foster and a few of the guys decided to head to a local bar and start drinking while watching rugby while I headed to the next step in my transformation, makeup! If you remember I told you I was going to go to Macy's to get my makeup done, well, they did not have a MAC counter at this Macy's so I went to the Lancome counter instead. As I mentioned, I spent WAY more than their minimum, but I came away with some great skin products. I really need to switch up my skin regimen after the pregnancy because my skin has not been the same, and I have quite a few more wrinkles than I did a year ago.

As I was getting my makeup done, my best friend JJ showed up because she just happened to be int he area. We got to talk and hang out for a little bit, it had been WAY too long!

Once the prep work was done, foster and I went to the hotel room where Mr and Mrs Prince met up with us for a few cocktails prior to the event. This is when I snuck into the bedroom to put the finishing touches to my look, I put on the dress and jewelry. When I emerged from the bathroom, Foster's jaw dropped. He was so pleased with the look I had put together, and even admitted that the money was worth it because I looked "Beautiful, classy and stunning". I will show you this picture, but Foster is not happy, because he is missing his jacket, but it is the ONLY full length picture I have of my dress. Make sure to check out the shoes!

Foster and I all dressed up! (minus his jacket:-)

Mr and Mrs Prince

Foster goofing off

Who knows! they were messin with the camera!

When we went downstairs tot eh ball, there were TONS of people there. I thoroughly enjoy going to these events, because I am such a social butterfly. Everyone from the first FEMALE Ohio TAG was present, to the CSM of the Ohio Army National Guard. The TAG informed me that regardless of whether Foster was able to attend this year's NAGUS conference in Milwaukee, I was coming. "Well yes Ma'am!" I responded as we both started laughing. I don't know how I can say no to that, so I guess I am attending the conference in August!

When I went looking for people from my unit, they were nowhere to be found. I know I have a small unit, but I was kind of hoping at least one of the officers would be present. I stopped by to talk to my Battalion Commander, and asked her if she knew where my unit was seated, and she said "You are it!". I laughed and told her I left my uniform at home and it was too small anyway.

Of course I came armed with my camera, and got some great photos!

The boys!

Our new FIRST FEMALE TAG and her hubby!

love these guys!

and them too! look at her heals! Hot!

Foster is taking us BOTH to the ball next year since her hubby will be deployed:-) We are getting matching dresses and she is dying her air red...then it will be his ultimate fantasy!

The funniest story of the night was when Foster ate the leftovers off his boss' wife's plate! She had a whole piece of salmon she didn't even touch, and I guess all the drinking had made Foster hungry, so he asked her a total of three times if she minded if she was SURE she wasn't going to eat it, and she insisted he take it, but of course as soon as he ate it, we would not let him live it down. From what I hear, his boss is still teasing him about it at work, and making TALL tails out of the story, jokingly saying Foster stole the food and was eating off of every one's plates. I warned him they would never let him live that down! Of course we took a picture of him pretending to take her dessert too!

His boss is hilarious and always likes to tease Foster because of how well he takes it!

Around 1 AM Foster was about to drop. I took him upstairs and tucked him into bed and then headed back down to the hotel bar to spend more time with the girls! We sat by an outdoor fire and chatted with the CSM (Command Sergeant Major) for about another hour. He was stationed with Foster on their last deployment, and for a while we were chatting and every time I mentioned something about myself, he would respond "I know,"

I responded, "Now, I know since I am in the Army there are things that you can find out that way, but how the heck do you know some of these personal things?!?!"

He said, "Well, Foster told me so much about you! He talked about you for a year straight and I probably know more about you than you can imagine."

That scares me just a little bit! But at the same time, it was flattering to know that Foster talked so much about me while he was deployed, and to such an important man. By the end of the evening we were toasting champagne, and I learned a lot more about him too, so I didn't feel so odd.

Overall it was a pretty amazing night, and I really enjoyed spending such a special night with Foster. I am already looking forward to next year's ball!

A "Breakthrough"?!?

I had my own little revelation today. I notice that right before drill every month I get anxious, and filled with dread. I never really could put my finger on why I feel this way. It's not like we do a whole lot that would cause stress on drill weekends; we take a PT test every month, and then maybe have a few classes or paint walls (we did a LOT of painting this weekend!!). You would think it was the easiest "job" in the world. As a junior enlisted, I have no responsibility other than to do what I am told, sit around chatting with other junior enlisted, and wait until the leaders decide to let us loose for the night.Yes, I get paid for this. Drill weekends should be almost a "vacation" from my normal, hectic life.

 First Sergeant called me in to his office this afternoon. He wanted to check on me. Let's just say I took an email very personally that was not his intention and he was a little worried about me. As soon as he asked "How are you doing?" and really meant it, the waterworks started. They always do when someone REALLY wants to know how I am doing. I had held it together all weekend. Sure, I had complained a little here and there about the endless painting we had to do, or rolled my eyes when we were told to move a set of filing cabinets for the fifth time BACK to the original spot they were in, but if I didn't complain, I wouldn't be the typical junior enlisted soldier now would I? However, once I looked into his eyes that were genuinely filled with concern, I lost it. The talk was good, and I was grateful that with as little time that he has in a weekend, especially with a deployment on the horizon, he took a few minutes to check on me.

As I jumped into my car to head home to enjoy some homemade chili and football with Foster, tears started streaming down my eyes. It occurred to me for the first time that it was a Sunday after drill, very similar to today, that my last full day with my Rosalynn was unknowingly coming to an end. I had been in civilian clothes because I was soooooo big, and the only thing my commander asked was "Finny, why are you in civilian clothes?" I guess he had forgotten about the 5 times I had requested the maternity ACUs but had yet to receive . As a health care provider (a nurse practitioner in his civilian life) you would think he might have been concerned about my overly swollen legs, the feet that were so swollen that only flip flops could fit on them. You would think at the very  least he would have asked how the pregnancy was going, or offer to finish the final signatures pertaining to my discharge that I was holding in my hands. However, "Why are you in civilian clothes?" and "I will sign those later," were the only things he said to me. I spent most of my time with my feet elevated in the office, and only got up to pee, heat up some food, and to let everyone feel my belly when Rosie got the hiccups for the first time ever. One of our radiology techs (who I currently also work at the hospital with) sat down concerned and told me he was worried about my swelling and the pregnancy because he had just recently been witness to an ultrasound where a 36 week pregnant woman was told the baby's heart had stopped. He told me to pay close attention to the kicks. I giggled uncomfortably and reassured him that I would be fine, and if I noticed a decrease in movement, I would be sure to call my OB. This conversation is one of the main  reasons I noticed she wasn't moving so early on.

As I was driving home from drill, I realized that I think I resent that place. Not the people, the PLACE. Every time I get in uniform and go to that armory, I am reminded of what I lost. Even if I went all month without crying or thinking badly about my loss; even if I went all month with positive, wonderful things happening, and no sad or angry moments; even if all month I was able to NOT think about the immense pain that sits in the middle of my chest (not likely, but we can always hope), I am ALWAYS reminded of those last days every time I put that uniform on and head into drill. The same uniform I used to love donning and was proud to zip up and walk out the door in, is now a uniform that is a constant reminder of my loss every time I put it on. It is not one of those good reminders, like seeing a rose in bloom or hearing a song that makes me smile in remembrance of my daughter. It is one of those painful reminders that makes me anxious, depressed, and even angry.

In therapy this may be considered a "breakthrough". I have realized one reason for my anxiety, now it is a matter of figuring out how to deal with all of this; but for now I breath a sigh of relief for yet another drill weekend passing, I look forward to the next few weeks of not thinking about going back, and in a few weeks I will start to mentally prepare myself again for yet another round. 

Bittersweet....My Deployment Status

Yesterday was filled with all sorts of emotions. Usually, when drill comes along, I can put on a "happy face" and get through the two days. I had accomplished this on Saturday. However, standing in line for my weigh in on Sunday, our new First Seargent walked by and asked how the weigh in was going. I said, "Well, this is the first month I can't claim post-partum as an excuse," and laughed uncomfortably.  I figured since I had asked for the command to be informed about my loss, not for sympathy, but so they may be a little more understanding, I just assumed that he already knew.

Well, you know what they say when you assume..."You make an 'ass' out of 'u' and 'me'." Boy did I!

He looked at me with a smile on his face and said, "Well, congratulations! Did you have a girl or a boy?"

I know it was not his fault. I know he didn't know, but tears started welling up in my eyes, and I responded, "No First Sergent, we lost my daughter Rosalynn around 35 weeks."

The look on his face was of pure guilt and horror. He told me to walk with him and explain my story. So I did, and he informed me that his family has gone through a similar loss, and he knows the feelings and pain. He said that he was truly sorry and if there was anything he could do, to let him know. I mentioned the botched paperwork for my discharge and how I was in process of trying to get policies to reflect more of the active duty regulations in regards to stillbirth, "Well, we can take a look at those papers and see if we can still get you out of here if that is what you want."

I didn't know how to react to this. For 9 months all I have been told is "No". I have been told that there was no way I could get out, no matter what my papers said, or who made the mistakes. How can one man be so confident that he can change that?!?! I instantaneously liked this man. Not because he can get me out, but because he said that he would do whatever he could to help! That is the first time in nine months I had heard those words from someone other than my immediate NCO channel. They have all cared and tried, but when it got to a certain level, no one seemed to care.

Now, I must admit, after seething for so long, I have come to the realization that getting "out" is not necessarily what I want. I am not a quitter, and I have a contract to uphold. As the pain is getting easier to bear from losing Rosie, I feel more and more like a soldier. Now, this is not to say I am in any way mentally or emotionally ready to deploy. I am not at any point where I can be relied on to save a life or be under high amounts of stress. This is another reason I think the Regular Active Duty Army has their stuff together. Their policy would allow a soldier to return to duty after 18-24 months of the loss. This gives them time to grieve and get back into shape emotionally AND physically.

I went back to the bathroom to resume my weigh-in, and tears were just streaming. You fellow baby loss moms are farmiliar with the fact that once it starts, once a trigger has caused the flood gates to open, it is almost impossible to stop them, and the rest of the day is a struggle!

About 2 hours later, First Sergeant stood in front of all of us and started calling out the names of the Forward attachment, those soldiers that would be going overseas. I was nervous, my hands started sweating, my legs started to go numb as I sat there in the classroom just waiting for my name to be called. I felt the tears starting again, and I felt as if I was going to pass out. As I heard each name called and each person stand up to file downstairs for their initial briefing, I just knew it was a matter of time before they called my name, and I was terrified that I would collapse when I heard it. On Friday I had noticed that my medical status had gone back to "Green" on my online account. I figured since the pregnancy was all cleared, that there was no reason for me to be in the red any more.

More and more names were called, and then he stopped, glanced through his list one more time, and then said, "Well, that is it. The rest of you are on the rear detachment. This will not change unless YOU want it to. If you get your issues cleared up in time, then we can get you put on the forward, however, as of right now, this is how it stands. Does anyone have a question to why they are on the rear?"

I know I had a look of confusion in my eyes, but I was not going to raise my hand, because I didn't want my reason to be announced in front of everyone since I didn't know what the reason was myself. However, my startled look did not go unnoticed, and after First Sergeant was done, one of the Lieutenants called me over. She and I have been friends for a while. We went to ROTC together, she lived with me for a couple months, and we have remained close (outside of uniform of course). Of everyone in my unit, she probably knows me better than anyone. She pulled me aside and asked me if I knew why this happened. I admitted that I didn't and she explained, "Major **** (my old commander) entered into the system that you were suffering from Postpartum Depression, and that it was neither in your best interest or the units best interest to have you accompany us. We want to make sure that you are ok and that you are taken care of. This is not something you should have to be worrying about so soon after your loss."

I was stunned, relieved, and a little embarrassed. I started crying again. LT's eyes started getting red as it seemed like she was holding back tears, "Are those tears of relief?" she asked.

"I think so," I said, with a small chuckle. "I had no idea," I said, "I have been in this awful place of the unknown for the past 5 months. Anxiety and depression have been my biggest enemies since finding out about this deployment, and now I can relax. However, is it natural to feel a little guilty at the same time?"

My feelings of guilt stemmed from the fact that someone else has to go in my place. Someone else has to leave their family and friends and put themselves in harm's way. What if something happens to that person? I know I will never know the exact person who took my place, however, I will always wonder. I just pray every single person comes back safe and sound!

It is so weird how the emotions are different than last deployment. I was put on the rear for our tour to Iraq because I was pregnant. I was originally on the forward, but 2 months later got that positive pregnancy test. I was devastated. I wanted to go, and instead of guilt and relief, there was only disappointment and anger. Well, 3 months before the deployment, it was canceled. So, there is a lot that can happen in the next months, but regardless, I will be home safe to focus on the rest of my journey through grieving and healing. Thank you all for your prayers and support, and I ask for you to continue to pray for the men and women of my unit that will be risking their lives. I know that if I remain in, that my time will eventually come, and I know at that point, I will be ready to go and make everyone proud.

Thank You SGT Knowitall

Once again, I apologize for going on a few day hiatus from my followers. I have had a lot going on. When last I left you, I told you about a SGT who was giving me a hard time about the money Foster and I supposedly have. After talking to him about it, Foster asked, "Although we are not rich, we are very comfortable, and why should we be ashamed of that? We both work very hard for our money. I have graduated college, you are about ready to, we work everyday to make a living and afford the things we want and have."

After further thought, I came to the decision that he is right. I don't know why I felt the need to defend myself about making a good living. I certainly do not go around flaunting it or bragging, but there is no need for me to feel bad about it either. It must be out of jealousy that he felt the need to make an issue of it.

I found out the next day that this SGT must really have some mental issues. He must feel the need to belittle others in order to feel better about himself. I was sitting out in the parking lot eating my lunch. I noticed a guy hanging out by himself on the breezeway. he was leaning against the railing like he was not feeling well. All of the sudden he stiffened up, fell backwards, and started seizing. I immediately jumped out of my car, spilling my lunch all over the pavement, hurdled over a concrete blockade, and ran as fast as I could up to the breezeway. People were yelling "Medic, we need a medic."

I came up on the guy and responded, "I am a medic, someone help me roll him and keep him on his side." It was apparent he had bitten his tongue in the 30 seconds it had taken me to reach him and I wanted to make sure he did not aspirate the blood and drool into his lungs. There is not a whole lot more we could do for him other than call an ambulance, which I instructed someone else to do. As the crowd got bigger, and a doctor came out of the building, I loosened his boots and pants, and then told someone to get a neck brace for him since I think he hit his head on the way down. I then stepped back, allowed the paramedics to do their job and gave them the information that they needed about the soldier.

Never in a million years did I think something like this would happen in a basic Soldier readiness day. These days usually consist of medics like myself drawing blood, giving immunizations, taking vitals, and doing pregnancy tests on all of the soldiers getting ready to deploy. I was helping out with the lab draws and paperwork. When I returned into the lab I was at least thirty minutes late from my lunch break. I told the Sergent who was in charge what happened, and apologized for being late. We will call him SGT Knowitall responded in a very sarcastic tone, "Sure, good excuse for taking an hour lunch break."

"No Sergent, she really was out there helping, I brought the trauma bag out to her," another soldier came to my defense.

"What soldier was it?" an officer asked me.

I told him the soldiers last name, since the officer was in the soldier's unit. "You just violated HIPPA," SGT Knowitall reprimanded me.

"Excuse me? I did not," I claimed. For those of you who are not familiar with medical policies, HIPPA is the Health Information Privacy and Portability Act. Individuals, organizations, and agencies that meet the definition of a covered entity under HIPAA must comply with the Rules' requirements to protect the privacy and security of health information and must provide individuals with certain rights with respect to their health information. If an entity is not a covered entity, it does not have to comply with the Privacy Rule or the Security Rule. These entities refer to health care professionals who are in contact and have access to the paperwork and information of a patient.

"If she REALLY works in an ER, she would know that she violated HIPPA," I heard SGT Knowitall say under his breath to another sergeant.

"Actually Sargeant, I was a first responder, but had nothing to do with his care involving charting, paperwork, or information. The only information I gave that officer was a last name and that he had a seizure. I would be considered a bystander, and not a medical provider, so HIPPA does not apply to me in this situation," I responded. I could not believe he was going to try and lecture me on HIPPA. I have been working in a hospital for 8 years, and have taken MANY classes on it. This sergeant has been a medic in the Army, which I hate to say does not put us through the amount of classes that OSU has for HIPPA, and now he is a nursing student, has only ever been in a hospital for his clinicals, and thinks he is the subject matter expert on EVERYTHING medical. Drives me nuts when students, med students, nursing students, etc., think they know it all.

Anyway, enough ranting, but I eventually got him to shut his mouth. I was a little offended that he would even question my integrity with the phrase, "If she REALLY worked in an ER, she would know about HIPPA." The funny part about this whole thing is this sergeant is not even in my unit, he is in a different company that I had volunteered to assist this weekend. Most of the sergeants in my unit know and respect what I do, and respect my knowledge and would never question my integrity.

On a better note, Foster and I bought me a newer car today. I have been driving around a great 2003 Toyota Corolla. I bought the car last July for myself, and it is a wonderful car. the only downside is it has about 186,000 miles on it. Driving it, you would never know because it drives like a dream, gets about 38 miles to the gallon, and only cost me about $6000 dollars after I got my way at the dealership (another story for another time). However, the opportunity came to us to buy Mama JJ's car which is three years younger, has 76,000 less miles on it, and is an upgraded version of the Toyota Corolla for $5,000. We could not pass it up! We figured we would post my Corolla on craigslist and see what we can get for it. Who knows, we may end up getting all $5000 back. If you know anyone who is in need of a car, let me know. The only thing to note of my 2003 Corolla is it needs new rotors, and is a manual transmission, so the person needs to be able to drive a stick.
I am actually really excited about having Mama JJ's old car, I feel like she will watch out for me every time I drive, of course, she is watching over me anyway, but it makes me smile.

Memorial Day Tribute

This weekend is a time to spend with friends and family. It is a time to have cookouts, pool parties, and a three day weekend. Please, let us not forget that the most important part of Memorial Day weekend is that it is a time for all Americans to take a moment and thank our soldiers for the sacrifice they make to keep this nation safe and free. Thank their family and loved ones also, because the biggest support of our soldiers is their family members. Fathers, mothers, wives, husbands, and children give up their time with their soldier and support him or her while they are thousands of miles away fighting for complete strangers.

For those of you who do not know, Foster and I are both in the Army. While pregnant, due to our unique situation, I was required to be discharged. It was devastating to me, because nothing makes me prouder than to put that uniform on and work with my fellow battle buddies. When we lost Rosie, I was able to stay in, for now. Although I have yet to be deployed, many of my friends and relatives have been over, some multiple times. Foster has served this country over seas twice. He makes me so proud, and I admire him for the strength it takes to be away from home, family and friends. He puts that uniform on every morning, and every morning I am filled with pride. I do not think I thank him enough for the sacrifices he makes for me, my family, and millions of strangers.


Regardless of personal views on the war, please take the time to thank a soldier. Take a moment and say a prayer for those who gave all, and the families of those who have lost a loved one.
Christine Miller, Lathrop, Emmons, Miller (Leanne), Gumbs, and all of my other buddies currently deployed, please return home safely, and thank you for keeping us safe. Ehbrecht, you will be forever missed.
"All gave some, some gave all"