Let me begin by saying, I’m no newbie to this mommy shit.

Wait, let me scratch that. Let’s rephrase it to say… This is my second time around. I still feel like I barely have a handle on what’s going on.

I found out this morning that I’m pregnant with number 2. Our little girl will be two in January, and we decided a few months ago that it was time to do it all over again and see who we get this time.

Very unfortunately, I got pregnant by accident while I was still on the pill back in July. This pregnancy deserves the “very unfortunate” qualification because the damn thing never left my ovary and I ended up with an ovarian ectopic. For those of you who have never had an ovarian ectopic pregnancy (and I’m guessing most of you haven’t, as it happens to about 1 in every 25,000 pregnancies) I would not recommend it. If I had been given the choice, I would have chosen a healthy, implanted-in-the-uterus kind of pregnancy. By the time the doctor informed me that I was pregnant, I already knew it wasn’t a good thing. To make a long story short, that was Saturday and by Wednesday night (eh hem, my 34th birthday) my right ovary ruptured. At 2 in the morning, some doctor I had never seen before and never saw again removed my demolished ovary and right fallopian tube. Me and my circus freak body spent the next three months recuperating through yucky nasty emotional ick.

But on to bigger and better!

Yes! You TOO can get pregnant with just one ovary and fallopian tube. You TOO have the ability to get knocked up after an extremely unsuccessful pregnancy. It may not feel this way, but it’s more than possible- it’s damn right likely.

Now, with a struggling writing career, a video and photography business my husband and I work from home, a 34 year old body, and a 22 month old who refuses to sleep (um ever, and for the last 22 months) I’m pregnant with what will hopefully become the other person in the house I love more than anything on this friggin’ planet.

It’s November 26th… I’m probably due the first week in August. That leaves us 36 weeks to go. And almost as importantly, it leaves me 36 weeks to kick my fucking writing career in the ass until I make something of it, goddamnit, and before my life is just too full to be able to pursue it for a while.

So that’s the purpose of this new blog: I invite you to trudge the road of writing success with me as I attempt to:

(1) sell my first screenplay

(2) get one of my plays produced in NYC

All before baby #2 is born.

 

Day 1. Let’s go.

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