Return to Innocence

It Might Be Time

2011-01-27T19:37:00.000-08:00

I have been thinking about this a lot over the past couple of months, and I think it might be time to close down this blog. But before you think that means I will be gone, guess again. I still have my primary blog, and I have slowly been moving my following of your blogs over to my list on the primary blog, which can be found here.

When I first started writing this blog, it had a purpose, and that was to help me deal with my PPD. I needed somewhere to talk about what I was going through without everyone in my real life knowing I was struggling. It was a private battle, and I didn't want my coworkers to know I was on antidepressants and seeing a shrink to work through my PTSD from infertility. More than that though, I didn't want my mother-in-law to know because she has a way of sending emails that she claims are meant to be innocent, but that are just plain cruel. I didn't need any of her negative energy weighing in on what I was already going through. I didn't want her telling me it was my own fault or that I was damaging my baby because of it somehow. I needed a place to talk about these things where no one knew who I was. A place where I felt safe. And I found that with this blog.

I have been AWOL from this blog so much lately, and I finally realized why last night. My mind is being completely occupied by what is going on my life right now that I just can't or sometimes don't want to find the time to sit down to blog. Not only that, but most of the time I can't think of things to write about. Add to that we are back into doing treatments to have another baby. The latter really negates the purpose of this blog, in my opinion.

My life has moved on from trying to deal with past issues back into trying to deal with current issues, which includes seeing an RE on specific cycle days every month and wearing estrogen patches. It could turn back into full blown treatments for us again. God only knows.

I am sorry that neglecting to write in this blog meant not keeping up with my reading and commenting on your blogs. I think I got everyone added to the list on my primary one tonight though, so if you see a new follower in your ranks, that's me. :)

I hope you will all continue with me on my journey to building a family. I know some of you have said you liked this blog better, but all of the things that made this one great are moving to the other one. I find that right now I need to consolidate and simplify my life as much as possible to make room for the chaos that is being reintroduced by treatments.

I will keep this blog up for a while until I decide if I want to shut it down completely or not. Until then, you know where to find me.

Much love!

Two Parts

2011-01-05T20:25:00.000-08:00

There are two parts to me who seem to constantly be doing battle in my head. Neither one wins more often than the other. Part of me apparently loves to feel guilty, while the other part of me wants to quit feeling guilty and enjoy life.

Life has just been crazy for me lately what with trying to control my head from being all over the place. I think about so many things that nothing ever gets done right. Actually, all I really think about is one thing: having another baby. And the rest of my life takes a back seat, which makes me feel GUILTY.

In my shrink session a few weeks ago, I was talking about how this whole TTC thing needed to take the back seat. It was becoming too all-consuming and other aspects of my life were suffering because of it. Even my work has been suffering, and noticeably so. My shrink asked how my relationship with my daughter was, and I started to cry as I admitted it wasn't where I wanted it to be.

Don't get me wrong, we have a great relationship. She wants to be with me all of the time. I just feel like I don't spend enough quality time with her. I liked to think that taking her shopping with me was spending time with her, and it is, but it isn't quality time. I'm not 100% focused on her. In fact, I have to remind myself to make eye contact with her and play with her as I peruse the isles so that she isn't just along for the ride. When I get home at night, I need to make more of an effort to sit down and play with her, read to her, go outside with her. It doesn't matter how tired I am at the end of the work day, this child is the most precious thing in my life, and one day she will be grown. I don't want to look back on these days of her life and regret that I was so focused on having another baby that I didn't spend enough quality time with the one I had.

Not only that, but if we do have another baby, her days as an only child are limited. The days where my focus is solely devoted to one child are limited. I need to cherish them and make the most of them. Not tell myself I am too tired to play Legos with her and I will do it tomorrow.

The guilt part of me needs to give way to the content part of me again. I need to take action so I can stop feeling guilty. Stop thinking and start acting.

My shrink recommended I buy a set of toys that I keep set aside for special play time with mom. She told me to buy a basket and gave me some recommendations for toys to put in it, along with reasons for those specific recommendations. She said that I should take just 15 minutes each day to play with those toys however my daughter wanted. I was not allowed to guide the play time, but to take my daughter's lead. I have kind of done that. I haven't bought the special toys, but I have decided that if she comes over and tells me to come on while grabbing my finger, I am to get up and go with her because there is nothing I could be doing that is more important than being with her.

20 years from now, I don't want to be able to relate to the song "Cat's in the Cradle."

You Wanna Know?

2010-12-13T20:59:00.000-08:00

Okay, since so many of your responded to my last post with "Been there, done that, done worse." I have decided you can all handle the story I was going to tell. I am sure now that you will all get a laugh.

Saturday night Hubs and I allowed my best friend to baby sit (at her request [I'm serious]) and went out for a date for the first time in eons. We started out with a really tasty dinner at Son.oma and then headed to a couple's massage at a massage club where I am a member. I guess Hubs enjoyed his massage so much, it made him a little frisky. We have been so off-sync from each other lately, I welcomed his advances. So we played around a little bit after our masseurs left the room to allow us to get dressed. We didn't stick around for too long because we knew they were waiting for us on the other side of the door.

On our way out, I stopped to use the ladies. Silly me, I forgot to lock the door. Of course, I seriously didn't think Hubs was feeling THAT frisky. He was.

After we had been in there for a couple of minutes, there was a knock on the door. I shouted that it was occupied, and the person on the other side shouted, "Yeah, they're in there." Hubs and I both laughed, but he would not be deterred. A few minutes later there was another knock followed by, "Hey guys, we're closing." Shortly thereafter, we emerged.

I told Hubs I would not be able to go back for another massage for months and was afraid they had marked "Has sex in the bathroom" on my chart. He laughed and told me we should schedule another couple's massage for 3 weeks down the road and request the same masseurs.

The sad (or funny) thing is, I can't say that was the strangest place we've ever "done the deed."

Wooooo Hoooo!

2010-12-12T19:51:00.000-08:00

I wanted to tell you all a completely different funny story tonight. I had it all written up and ready to post, but then I wasn't sure if it was appropriate. It wasn't detailed or anything, but some would think that some stories are better left unshared. So instead, I decided to tell you a different, tamer funny story.

When I was in college, a boyfriend and I went for a drive up the canyon where we decided to park and make out. (No, there was no sex involved. I was a firm believer in saving virginity for marriage.) He drove a great big, red suburban that had the back seats removed. We started making out in the front seat, and then climbed gingerly into the back to continue making out in a more friendly position.

As we were enjoying each other's company a car pulled into the same circle as us. I started to giggle and said, "Wouldn't it be funny if that was a cop?" My boyfriend was outraged and said angrily, "No, it would NOT!" That made me laugh more. Just then there was a knock at the window. I could not contain my laughter. My boyfriend threw me a dirty look as he crawled into the front seat and rolled down the window.

The cop shone his flash light into the car and asked my boyfriend what we were doing. Gary replied that we were just hanging out. The cop then shined his light on me as he smirked and said, "Ma'am, I have to ask you if you are being held here against your will."

"Oh no sir. I am enjoying myself very much. Thank you."

The cop laughed and my boyfriend threw me another scathing look. He told us the canyon was closed after dark and told us he would appreciate it if we would clear out. My boyfriend was all too happy to oblige. He rolled up the window and I howled with laughter as I crawled back into the front seat.

"Don't you dare tell ANYONE!" He yelled at me. He was so embarrassed, although I will never understand why.

I laughed and said, "Mum's the word."

As soon as I got home, I ran to my room, grabbed my phone and called my dad. "Dad, I have to tell you the funniest story!"

My ex-boyfriend later went on to buy a purple Do.dge N.eon and date a robust girl. Thank heaven I dodged that bullet!

A Serious Case of the Mondays

2010-12-06T20:43:00.001-08:00

To Do:

I rolled over sleepily to turn off my alarm clock. How could it be time to get up already? How could it be Monday already? Then I noticed there was a wet spot IN my bed. How could that be? I reached my arm out from under my warm covers into the cold morning air to feel if the wet spot had come from the top of the bed. My hand met with the culprit full on: dog vomit.

I had just pulled the comforter out of the plastic bag fresh from the dry cleaners the night before, and now every layer of my bedding was soaking with dog vomit. I swore out loud, pushed the covers back, realizing painfully there would be no hitting snooze this morning, and put one foot out of bed and straight into a cold pile of dog diarrhea. I swore again, only more loudly, as my dog scurried from the room.

It was dark and cold. I like to sleep with my window open, especially in winter. I hobbled on the heal of the foot covered in feces to the bathroom sink while holding the hand covered in dog vomit up. I washed my hand and then my foot in freezing cold water. Next I turned on the lights to survey the damage. There was a massive brown puddle all over the floor next to the bed with a trail leading out of the bedroom.

I swore again.

The worst part about mornings like this is trying to wake yourself up to be coherent enough to map out a good battle plan for fighting dog poo stains.

I made my way down the hall to find the faux carpet steamer cleaner (just add hot water), and the fight to find all of the bits and pieces began. Where had I put the cleaning solution? Why the deuce was it downstairs instead up upstairs where the cleaner was?! I hate myself in that moment. Where was the Re.solve Pet Stain cleaner? How was I ever going to get this out?! "Calm down. This isn't the first time you've gotten diarrhea out of the white berber. You can do it again."

On my way down stairs I noticed my dog is a complete maximizer, as she managed to cover some serious footage with diarrhea drizzle all throughout the house. All the way down the stairs (and in the middle, I might add), all around the dining room table (yes, she walked 360 degrees around the table), through the kitchen, and to the back door (where she undoubtedly realized she was done needing to go outside).

As I cleaned, I realized my dog was really sick. She never throws up. Diarrhea isn't a big deal, but the runs coupled with vomiting is a bad sign. I began to think of what she could have possibly eaten and wondered whether or not this would constitute a trip to the vet.

Flash back to last night when I gave my daughter a bowl of grapes. "Just make sure you don't give any to the doggies baby. They will make them sick."

Another profanity.

Grapes are toxic to dogs. As few as seven little grapes can kill a dog. They shut down a dog's liver. Luckily I knew this because I knew in that instant my dog was going to the vet to have her life saved.

Ten minutes after I should have been at work (I texted my PM an hour before to tell him I would be late and why), I was on my way out the door with my sick dog and newly soiled clean comforter. I wasn't too worried about my pooch because she was acting normal. Then I talked to the vet and broke out in a cold sweat. He informed me that they always seem fine in the beginning, but they get worse as the hours go on. It was a good thing I knew to bring her in.

At 11:00 I couldn't take the wait anymore and called the vet to see how she was doing. All of her blood work had come back good. I had gotten her there soon enough. She was on IVs to replace her fluids and was being given antibiotics intravenously. They didn't want me to come get her before 6:00 at night, so as to prolong her IV time and prevent the need for her to be kept overnight.

At 6:00 the Munchkin and I showed up to pick up a very happy-to-go-home Mags. I paid the bill, all the while thanking the heavens I had pet insurance that cut my bill in half. I then grabbed Maggie's meds and took her and the Munchkin home. Once there I had to go over the biggest stain in the carpet with cleaner one more time. Mags returned to the scene of the crime while I was cleaning. I looked at her and said, "All that matters is that you are okay."

Thank heaven today is over and my dog is going to be fine.

P.S. In case you are wondering, yes the picture above depicts my Christmas tree being shoved up a GE Engineer's backside. More on the story behind that later.

Babies, Babies everywhere...

2010-12-03T20:17:00.001-08:00

... but it's still an empty womb for me.

The last couple of weeks I have been trying to decide what to do with this blog. Tonight, I got an answer I never expected. When I first started blogging, I had no idea really what it would become. All I knew was that I was going through infertility alone, but I knew I wasn't the only woman struggling with it. My mission then was two fold: find others who were fighting the same battle I was, and help anyone else going through what I was any way I could. My blog was and still is open to everyone. Over the years I've passed out the URL to friends, family, and coworkers because when I moved away from my home state, it also turned into a way for everyone back home to keep up on the going's on in my life. So it then served a third purpose. I then did something I wish I hadn't, but won't change now; I made my blog part of my Fa.cebook page. In doing so, I gave access to it to everyone who was on my friend list, and let's face it, we all have "friends" on FB that we really aren't friends with. For me it was that girl from high school with whom I was always competing in band over who was the better trumpet player. She now has access to my blog simply because she was ballsy enough to friend me on FB after all these years, and I am a big advocate for let bygones be bygones.

But tonight I am struggling with something I don't want all of my real life world to know. I am struggling with the fact that my period decided to show up three days early. Okay, it's not full on bleeding, but it's spotting, and that is the pregnancy death sentence in my world. Implantation bleeding does not happen to me. So spotting + cramps = BFN. That's not the part I don't want to share. I don't want everyone out there to know that right now, in this moment, I am so incredibly bitter. I am angry. I am so hurt. I hate this stupid broken scarred uterus of mine, and right now all I want to do is punch the daylights out of it. I want to snuff the life out of that stupid glimmer of hope that keeps nagging me in the back of my mind. Right now, I just want to wallow.

Yes, this is very unlike me, and part of it could be attributed to my stepping down another 5 mg on my antidepressants. I usually time the step down better so that it doesn't coincide with this time of the month for this very reason. However, I shouldn't be experiencing withdrawal symptoms yet.

Normally this situation would happen and I would take an hour or two to feel sad, and then I would let in all of those hopeful, positive thoughts. "We'll try again next month." "You're not really bleeding yet, maybe, just maybe it is implantation bleeding. I mean, your uterus has been really easily irritated since the surgery and spotting isn't uncommon from the slightest things. It really could be implantation bleeding. The fat lady hasn't sung yet." "I know it will work eventually."

Tonight, my bitter infertile knocked all of those hopeful thoughts down into the dust and proceeded to pummel them. "Sure we'll try again next month... and the next, and the next, and the next..." "It isn't implantation bleeding. You're an idiot. It didn't work." "Get the hint, you're broken."

I just want to break down and cry.

Then I think of all of the time I am wasting by focusing on any of this at all. How much I am missing of my daughter because I am too busy entertaining any of these thoughts in the first place. Tonight when I put her to bed, she giggled and wanted to play games, but all I could do was give her a half smile, tell her I loved her, and kiss her goodnight. I felt even more horrible in that moment, if that was possible.

I want to give her a sibling so badly. I am afraid I won't be able to. What kind of toll is my fight going to have on her if I can't let it go?

Tonight when my husband got home, for whatever reason, he decided not to be nice, despite the fact that we had been emailing back and forth all day and I had told him I had officially declared war on this day because of the way it started out (a story for another day). This was before I started spotting and before the spotting increased and went from brown to red. So when he was rude, I politely told him I didn't need that right now. Then I let him in to what I was feeling. I started to cry. He just sat there, focused on what he was doing, and ignored me. Ouch. Take three hits, one for him, one for me, and one for our relationship.

I realize he is tired of this. But guess what? So am I! He is my companion. I need him to support me every devastating month whether he is sick of it or not. This whole fight hurts me. And when he shuts me out like that, I feel so alone. I grieve alone. The best part is, he tried to go about the rest of the night like nothing had happened, which made it all worse. It makes me feel like he is saying my feelings are not justified, yet he has gone through this whole fight with me. They damn well are justified! It's not like I'm Anna Du.ggar crying because I didn't get pregnant within the first three months of trying. I have a history of infertility, severe endometriosis, PCOS, and now have a very scarred uterus. There is plenty of reason for me to worry about my ability to conceive.

Right now, I really hate that voice that says, "well at least you have your daughter." I am so grateful for my daughter, and having her definitely helps make these moments easier to bear. But right now, my hurt is so raw. It is yet another reminder that I am still broken. Always broken. A tourniquet can only do so much to stop blood gushing from a wound.

Yes, I know I will get back on my feet sooner than later. I will shortly be back to my optimistic, happy self, ready to take on the next month. I will chart out a new diet that will help with conception, get my fertility monitor ready, and all that jazz. But right now, I just want to wallow in my pity and grief. I want to wrap it around me like a blanket, and then roll around in it like mud. I want to feel it with my finger tips and inhale it's bitter scent. Because if I don't do this, I can't move forward. I need to not bottle it up. I need to feel it and let it out.

Infertility really sucks. Being an infertile sucks even more. But fear sucks even more than that.

Grownup

2010-11-28T19:29:00.000-08:00

I just wrote up a whole post about how I haven't been blogging due to lack of time, complete with apology for not being caught up on all of yours. But you know what? I think we're all sick of those posts from me. Let's talk about something fun instead.

I have asked this question to many of my friends lately because I am curious as to their responses. Here is the question:

Is being an adult anything like you thought it would be?

The answer for me is absolutely not.

It is a million times better.

I always thought that when I grew up, and especially when I became a mom, that the fun part of me would die. I would have to be responsible, and being responsible meant that I wouldn't be silly anymore. That I would have to be serious all of the time. I was afraid my sense of humor would be stiffled and I would end up being a disciplinarian like my mother.

It wasn't until I became a mother that this thought really started occurring to me. It was because I was having so much fun with my daughter. I was enjoying buying her toys as much as I would have enjoyed getting them as a kid. Even better, I was loving the fact that I could sit on the floor and play with them with her without it being found "creepy" that I was playing with children's toys.

Before I became a mother (and even after), I lived up my adult life the way I always wanted to when I was a kid. It still tickles me pink that I can buy as much gum and candy as I want. I can go wherever I want whenever I want and buy whatever I want. The child inside me is living through my adult self. That is literally how I feel. I feel like I am getting away with things. And how cool is it when I travel the world? How awesome is it to go away on a trip with my husband? Even better, how awesome is it to be a mom and take my child on trips?!

I feel like the child inside of me is constantly bouncing up and down with glee at the freedom of being an adult. That child was made even happier with the addition of my daughter because now she has a playmate.

Don't get me wrong, I am not one of those parents who is more concerned with being my child's friend than being a parent. There are still rules, and discipline is handed down when necessary. I am still a mom, and I take that role very seriously. It is my responsibility to ensure my children grow up to be decent, caring, compassionate, contributing members of society, and that cannot be done if I am too busy being the friend and not the parent. It's just that I really enjoy being silly with my daughter.

I realized after some pondering that the reason I thought being an adult would mean being stodgy is because that is how I view my mother. So of course I would think that my role model mother is how being an adult and parent would be. Man am I glad it isn't! I enjoy life so much! I ended up being so little like my mother and more like my dad who has always been a kid at heart too.

Even more to my delight, being in the workforce isn't as stodgy as I thought it would be either. I always figured that being a professional in a professional job would be all seriousness, memos, boringness, and business suits. Again, I love that it is completely different. The people I work with are every bit as much kids at heart as I am. We love jokes and pranks and dirty jokes. We enjoy going to lunch together and laughing till our cheeks hurt. Our faces light up when we see candy and we eat it like it's going out of style. We get giddy at the sight of donuts. It is actually fun. Work isn't the seriousness and dullness I thought it would be. It is almost the exact opposite.

I bought a magnet last week that said, "If you didn't know how old you were, how old would you be?" My answer is 22. How old are you?

The Hardest Part

2010-11-14T18:51:00.000-08:00

I always know that within about 7-10 days of dropping down another 5mg on my antidepressants that I will have withdrawal symptoms. Its like clockwork. Who knew that going off such a simple medication could be so difficult and take so long?

I always know that within 7-10 days I will start to get agitated, maybe a little depressed and hopeless. I know my patience will be thin. I also know that as my body adjusts to making up for what the medication isn't doing anymore, it will get better and I will be back to my old self again soon. It just really sucks during those few days while my brain figures it all out.

Friday morning I read that the oldest Du.ggar boy is expecting his second child. I was so angry. "Of course they're pregnant again! Why wouldn't they be? They're Super Fertile! I bet they tried once and she got knocked up. Honestly, I'm surprised it took this long." I tried to calm myself down. I don't know why I was getting so worked up in the first place.

At lunch I told my friend J about it, and I felt like I was ready to pop my top. I was so angry. EVERYONE is pregnant right now. EVERYONE... except me. Of course. Of course I have to fight with everything I have to get pregnant again. Of course I have to spend crap tons of money on surgeries, doctor appointments, tests, OPKs, and everything else you can think of to be a mother. While some people look into their lover's eyes and get pregnant in that star twinkle moment.

Then I laughed.

I am just finishing a visit from AF (which has already lasted NINE DAYS, mind you [going on TEN tomorrow]). Isn't PMS supposed to happen BEFORE Af visits?

Then it hit me.

I dropped my dose a week ago.

Suck.

I am going to be like this for about another week while I adjust. I don't like this stage. I don't like being angry. I don't like feeling this way. And unfortunately, there isn't anything I can do about it but wait it out. I can recognize why I feel this way, and that is all fine and dandy, but it doesn't restore my patience, and it doesn't mend my angry heart when I think about the fact that I'm not pregnant yet. It doesn't help keep me from feeling bitter and resentful.

This is really the only time I can't handle the fact that I am not pregnant yet, when I'm going through withdrawals. You wouldn't think 5mg would make that much of a difference, but it really does. It almost makes me spiral downward in every aspect too. I'm angry and bitter that I'm not pregnant, which knocks my patience levels down a few notches, which makes me angry that I have no patience, which knocks my patience level down a few more notches, and on and on it goes. Down, down, down.

I snap at the stupidest things. Things that I normally wouldn't even think twice about. I just feel discontented and angry.

But, I know it will pass. I know that by this time next week, I'll be back on the upswing of things. Back to where I should be. Full of hope and brimming with patience. I just need to get through the next couple of days.

Thank heaven I only have to go through withdrawals three more times before I am free. I just pray that I don't get PPD again because this has been really difficult. Hopefully next time will be different. Sometimes, heredity sucks.

Awww Crap!

2010-11-12T09:12:00.000-08:00

Friends, I am so majorly behind on blogs. Time and life have gotten away from me. I fully intend to catch up with everyone over this weekend. Please know I haven't forgotten about any of you, or my own blog, for that matter. I'm still here. I'm still alive. I'm coming back. I promise.

SORRY I've been missing so much!

Another New Branch

2010-10-31T19:12:00.000-07:00

I have decided this blog is going to become my TMI outlet. Sometimes I feel the need to talk about things that everyone IRL doesn't really need to know, but I also want to know if anyone else in the blogosphere has had these issues, or I want to document them for future just in case I ever wonder if these things have happened before.

So, on with the TMI!

Okay, we all know I had surgery 5 months ago to repair a weekend spot in my uterus due to a uterine rupture when my daughter was born, right? Well, if you didn't you do now. If you didn't know that, I am also going to tell you that weakened spot was the result of a uterine septum removal gone bad a few years ago.

Anyway. So occasionally, I will spot randomly. I THINK it is because that spot is still really mad. Like if I have a particularly obstinate BM, it isn't unlikely for me to spot a little afterward. If things get a little too hot and heavy in the bedroom, it also isn't unlikely for me to spot a bit afterward.

Six days ago I got my positive OPK. DH and I had been doing the BD since the day before, and for three days following. So for four days, we BD'ed. The first three days I was fine afterward. After the fourth day, I bled and spotted. No biggie. But then I kept spotting. And kept spotting. And it wasn't just a little bit. It was like the kind of spotting some of us get the day before AF rears. The kind that makes you think it might be time to start riding the cotton pony.

I am now 5dpo and still spotting. Yesterday was the worst. I seriously started to wonder if AF was going to rear really, really early. I didn't realize it until later, but I was so concerned, I was wound tighter than a banjo string. It wasn't until I snapped at my husband yesterday night and then broke down into tears that I realized just how much it was bothering me.

I have been trying to calm myself down (and so has my husband) by saying that maybe things were a little too much that last night we tried, and maybe we just really pissed off that repair site. I don't want to call my doctor (either of them) to ask if this is okay and normal because I feel like they will think I'm overreacting or being silly. That and I don't want to be that patient. Especially since I just went in for a u/s the week before last to see if we could figure out why my last cycle was so wonky. My doctor just called me back with those results on Thursday and I bombarded her with questions. It turns out, she thinks I might have ovulated off both sides this month. Wouldn't that be nice? Two chances!

I have also come to the realization that if I do get pregnant any time soon, I will most likely spot throughout the pregnancy because of a cranky uterus. When I think about that, it makes me wonder if I really am physically healed enough and ready for a pregnancy, so maybe I should call my doctors and ask them.

Sometimes trying to get pregnant month after month after month just plain sucks. Before you take that the wrong way, realize I had to try for a couple of years, complete with treatments, before I got my daughter, so I am no newbie to this TTC thing. I'm not one of those silly women who cries because I tried for three whole months and didn't get pregnant. I am an infertile woman who is crying because we weren't allowed to even think about trying for another baby until 3 months ago and now my body decides to be all jacked up again. Grrrr!

At any rate, I should find out tomorrow whether or not I even ovulated this month. For some reason the OPKs I've been using for the last two cycles are just as stupid as my last two cycles. Since I wasn't completely 100% positive on that "as dark as" line this month, I did a progesterone test on CD21. I only have 7 more days in my TWW--if I ovulated, that is. If I'm not pregnant, I will consider telling my dr's about what happened this month, as tomorrow will be the 6th day I've been spotting.

Infertility sucks!

Nothing

2010-10-25T18:49:00.000-07:00

I thought it had been a lot longer since my last post. It feels like its been ages, but really it has only been about 5 days. There has been absolutely nothing blog-worthy going on in my life lately. In fact, if you follow my other blog you know that I have been taking a break from the blogs. Not just the blogs, but everything that involves reading because my eyes have been driving me nuts lately. They keep trying to tell me they are strained, so I end up feeling like I'm going cross-eyed and then it makes the bridge of my nose ache. Weird, I know.

I did learn a valuable lesson over the weekend: Don't leave your front door open for extended periods of time.

When I got home on Friday my husband took my daughter out front to play in the tree swing. It was a pleasant day, so I left the door open. More because I wasn't really thinking about it than anything else. It stayed open for probably a good 30 minutes or so before I closed it because a storm front was blowing up from the south, which means high humidity. Yuck!

The next morning my husband got up with the baby to let me sleep in. As they were heading down stairs for breakfast, a little sparrow that had apparently flown in when the door was open the night before started to excitedly try to fly out the window in our stairwell in an attempt to escape. My daughter squealed with delight and my husband laughed. He opened the front door, and the bird eventually figured out how to get out of the house and back out to freedom.

Later that night we were all sitting in the family room watching TV after a long day of shopping and housework when my husband announced that there was an Anole (lizard) crawling across the floor. Sure enough, there was the little fella scuttering across my rug. We all laughed as my husband tried to catch the lizard. At one point, the silly thing ran up my husband's leg. He eventually caught him, and the Munchkin got to pet his head before he was put back outside to freedom just like the bird.

Other than that, life has been boring. Same old, same old. Waiting for ovulation, which apparently decided to come later this month than the last two months, but closer to when I normally ovulate.

So unless I have something really cool to update on, don't be surprised if I go quiet for a bit. It isn't because anything is wrong, its because nothing is going on.

Self Preservation

2010-10-20T19:52:00.000-07:00

A day or so before I went to see the Shrink, I was working through the thoughts in my head around trying for another baby. It feels as though I change my mind every 5 minutes.

My husband just got offered a new job over the weekend, and the potential is amazing. It makes a great deal of money and comes with some great perks. In addition to that, we have been working very diligently the last few months to get out of unnecessary debt, which will all be gone by Christmas. We have a time share that we bought on our second wedding anniversary that allows us to travel anywhere in the world. We've been married for 5 years now and have only used it once: to go to Cayman when I was 5 months pregnant.

With the end of our debt in view and his amazing new position, we were talking the other day about being able to actually use our timeshare. We will be able to afford to both financially and in paid time away from work. This then led me into a discussion, more with myself than my husband, about do we really want to try for another baby right now with this new option available to us? I mean, we have adapted well to being a family of three, and there is very little we want to do that we can't because we have a baby. Sure we don't want to take long 8-hour flights to Europe with a baby, but we can certainly handle a flight that is only a few hours to luxurious beach.

Add to that, Saturday night I took the Munchkin to a Pumpkin Patch with one of my best friends and her two little boys. My daughter was very well-behaved at the PP, but at dinner afterward, she was getting out her excess energy before bedtime, and I was constantly trying to keep up with her to keep her from making messes, throwing things, grabbing things she shouldn't, etc. On the drive home after dinner, I took a deep breath and exhaled as I thought, "Can I even handle more?" I seriously considered keeping us a family of three, but guilt instantly took over. Like that deep down, I have hurt and betrayed someone guilt. I said out loud, "Fine! I'll have more, but you have to make them come easier than this!"

As I thought more about my waffling, I realized I am in self-preservation mode. If I say I don't want any more, then I take the stress and the demand off of myself. I don't have to care if I don't get pregnant every month because I don't really want anymore anyway, right?

Ha!

Of course I want more! I want more more than anything!

In talking my feelings over with my husband he tells me his answer will never change: it is all up to me. He wants more, but he doesn't want more at the expense of what I want or don't want. If I can't handle going through the heartbreak of trying again and all of the stress and trauma it brings into my life, then he is okay with what we have. If I want more more than anything, he will be here to do his part. Above all, he will be here to support me no matter what I decide.

At the end of the conversation I told him that it didn't matter what I said from one minute to the next because we both knew I wanted more. He agreed. I also said that we had to try every month no matter how I felt about things that month because I didn't want to get 6 months down the road and regret that we hadn't been trying. He agreed. I'm not getting any younger, I have endo AND PCOS, and if I don't take the chance every month, I could regret it because the choice could be taken from me again. He decided not to answer to that one -- self preservation on his part.

The bottom line is, we will keep trying no matter what. In the meantime, I will keep seeing the Shrink and doing what I can to help make it happen.

Going Back

2010-10-13T20:03:00.000-07:00

I called my Shrink today for the first time in months. I haven't seen or talked to her since April. I wasn't sure if I would be able to get back at TTC without having to see her, but I hoped. Not that I don't like her, cause I adore her. I just hoped I was strong enough after everything I had been through to go it on my own.

I find that as I am still slowly easing my way off of the antidepressants, some days are worse than others. Most notably after I drop my dose another 5 mg. I have come to know exactly what to expect and when to expect it when I step down another 5 mg. If my doctor's 6 week plan to get me off the meds had worked, I would have been off them by the middle of September, but as it stands, I am only at half my full dose. It has been so much harder coming off of them than I ever imagined it could be.

I dropped my dose just over a week ago, and I knew then that within 7-10 days, I would start to feel blue for no reason, discontent for no reason, and slightly lethargic. It was like clockwork. Sadly, it happened to coincide with the appearance of AF after a wonky cycle, which makes things really hard for me right now.

Last month I did so great at not getting my hopes up and staying really zen about the whole TTC working or not working. That is, until I spotted at 5dpo and then every other day until AF showed, and then I started freaking out and wondering why the hell my cycle decided to be stupid the second cycle back in the game. My Infertile started screaming and shaking the bars of the cell that has held her captive the last two years. She's scared, and so am I. I don't want her back out. I don't want to relapse into that person. I have no right to relapse into that person. There is a beautiful, perfect little baby girl sleeping soundly on the other side of the wall behind me.

But old habits die hard.

Some things are so ingrained in us through pain that I don't think they will ever go away. They have turned into ugly scars. Even with a lot of work, they will always still be there.

I have been having a hard time since AF showed. I blame a lot of it on the drop in my meds. But I am aching and scared. I want so badly to be pregnant. It seems like everyone else around me is pregnant, even the people who shouldn't be. I'm not talking about they are crack whores who shouldn't be allowed to have children, I'm talking about they have medical issues and were told to wait, but they went ahead anyway. I hate the feelings I have inside when I see that woman. My Infertile wants to hate her, but *I* can't. Still, I can't seem to help the fact that I don't want to be around her, or that I have to force a small and even a nice hello. It.Is.So.Hard.

So last night I went to my husband and told him I wanted to go back to the Shrink. He seemed a little surprised and asked if there was anything he could do. I told him I just feel really off balance right now, and that I don't want to mess up our chances of getting pregnant because I can't relax. Because I am starting to freak out that things are all messed up in there again. Because I can't help wondering if we did fertilize an egg the last two months, but it implanted in my scar tissue and didn't make it, and is that going to happen for the rest of my fertile life, and if so, is there anything I can do about it.

Then I freak out about some bad news I just heard about a college roommate of mine that I won't repeat here because I don't want any of you freaking out, but it freaks me out.

I am just plain freaking myself out, and I can't do that. Not with trying to get pregnant again. FINALLY being able to try for another baby. I have to be able to put all of this anxiety aside, and the bottom line is, once again, this is bigger than me. I can't do it alone. And while I appreciate the love and support of my husband, family, and friends, they can't help me either. They don't truly understand. They can't say the right things. They can't ask the right questions. I don't know if my Shrink can either, but she sure has helped me in the past, and right now, I'm floundering. I'll grab a hold of any life preserver thrown my way that will help me float and swim to shore.

I seriously love this blog. I could never in a million years write these things on my primary blog, and they just flow through my fingers here. I am always able to exactly express how I feel, and it is so soothing.

It is hard to find myself on familiar ground, on this familiar ground. I am trying so hard to let it go, but it has wrapped it's chains around me, and every time I think I'm free, it pulls me back in. I can't wait to sit on that leather couch and let everything flow next week. I really need this.

I'm Trying

2010-10-09T22:10:00.000-07:00

Have you ever in a Bitter Infertile moment just wanted to pee on every OPK and pregnancy test in your cupboard? It's like your way of giving the universe and your fertility the bird for gifting you with a visit from AF, instead of with a BFP. Well, I did, so I did. Except I only peed on 9 OPKs and no pregnancy tests.

You know what? It felt good to waste those buggars. Partly because they were in a 20-pack and I am pretty dang sure it was a bum pack, as I never got a positive test and I know I ovulated, but also because I have always wanted to do that out of anger and frustration for another failed cycle.

I did learn one thing from this past cycle, never waste your money on name brand OPKs. I have used name brand OPKs twice (not the same brand, mind you) and had horrible results with both. Neither of them worked. But those store-brand cheapies have never failed me. Not once.

If you read my other blog, you know that this past cycle was crazy and all over the place. I spotted at 5dpo, but the bitter, resentful infertile in me kept my feet on the ground and went straight for the worst possible scenario: it must be low progesterone. Crap.

Now, I am normally a very positive person, but when it comes to my fertility, that is where my exception lies, and it is simply because it feels like anything that can go wrong with me there, does. I realize this next statement sounds bitter, but I mean it in the most positive way possible. I am grateful that my infertility has robbed me of hope when it comes to getting pregnant because I never get my hopes up only to have them dashed when AF shows up.

So when I got my spotting, my first thought was low progesterone. For a fleeting and very brief moment, I thought it could be implantation bleeding, but that thought was snuffed ASAP. The spotting stopped completely by the next day... but the day after that, it was back. And so it went until two days before AF was due, spotting one day and not the next. Then two days before AF, it decided not to stop.

I ended up going into my OB trying to get some answers. She ran a bunch of blood work that all came back negative (AKA - BFN) or normal, and did a pap along with an internal exam. We're going to do a sono in a couple of weeks just to rule out fibroids.

It amazes me that no matter how "okay" I feel about things before AF shows, I am so bitter and hurt when she actually does. I go into each month thinking it doesn't matter if it doesn't work this time. When I'm in the TWW, I don't get my hopes up because I just can't. But somehow, when AF knocks on my door, I can't stand seeing pregnant women for the next couple of days. I can't handle pregnancy announcements. I flinch at all things pregnancy-related. I change TV shows off that have pregnant women in them.

It only lasts for a couple of days, and then I am back to myself. Happy for those who are expecting, excited for those who just got BFPs, unphased by anything pregnancy-related, and not even taking note of pregnant women on TV.

Those bitter feelings always catch me completely off guard. I didn't feel them in the moments when I just knew I wasn't pregnant, but as soon as my thoughts are confirmed, I turn into Dr. Je.kyl. Like a werewolf at a full moon. I would try to fight them, but why? They are natural, and they need to run their course. Not only that, but I know if I just let them come, I will be fine in a day or so.

I know that no matter how long it takes, I will have at least one more baby. That is where I find my comfort when I lose a cycle. It is only a matter of time before I get a BFP. Until then, I am sticking to store-brand OPKs and enjoying my laugh at peeing on 9 FR OPKs at once.

Crazy

2010-10-07T20:09:00.000-07:00

There is a cat that lives three houses down from me who in the dim night light looks exactly like my kitty who just passed away. He has lived there the whole time we have been in our house, which is just over 2.5 years now. He has never let me pet him before. He usually looks at me for a minute and then runs away. I am not sure if that is because he is afraid I will let my dogs loose on him because that is what my husband does every time he sees him in our yard.

Before I go on, I have to say my husband lets the dogs loose because he thinks the cat defecates near our front door and makes our house smell like a litter box in the hot summer heat.

Back to our story.

Every time I saw the kitty, I had to do a double take because I knew he wasn't my cat, but he sure did look like him. It was the epitome of surreal, especially in the low night light.

Last night I was making banana nut bread while my husband was giving our daughter a bath and getting her ready for bed. Half way into putting flour in the mixer, I realized I didn't have enough and would have to run to the grocery store. I walked out the front door and stopped short.

The kitty who looked like mine was laying near the front of my husband's truck.

I just sat there and stared at him, frozen, while my brain tried to remind me it was the neighbor's cat. He looked me in the eyes for a second, and then gingerly walked over to me and started rubbing on my legs.

I leaned down to pet him and said my cat's name. He started to purr.

He looked exactly like my cat. His fur was the same texture and fell in the same way my cat's did when I would pet him. It was orange and cream in all the same places. His purr sounded exactly like my cat's. When my kitty was really in Lovely mode, he would almost chirp, or hum while he purred. This kitty did that exact same thing.

I sat down on the driveway, legs crossed, as I appreciate this cat. I talked to him as if he were mine, and I told my kitty I loved him and missed him. I rubbed him the way my cat liked to be rubbed, and scratch his neck where my cat liked to be scratched. He liked it too.

After a while I stood up to go. I thanked him for letting me pet him and told him to come see me again soon.

Isn't it amazing how God has a way of delivering things into our lives the moment we need them?

I Should Learn

2010-10-05T20:01:00.000-07:00

I should learn to dread fall, rather than be excited for it. I should learn that the cooler temperatures and the changing colors of the leaves signals ominous times ahead. Why, you ask? Well, let me lay it out for you:

My first dog died the day of Thanksgiving when I was 8 years old.
My next dog died the day after Thanksgiving when I was 22.
My next dog died 5 years ago today, on October 5th, less than a month after I got married.
Yesterday, my dad had to put down my 14-year-old cat.

It seems that my animals like to go within a day of each other, only years apart. It further seems that they all like to go in the fall.

I blogged about the loss of my cat on my other blog. In it I talked about the time we shared together that spanned 14 years, yet felt all to brief. My cat was the most amazingly wonderful, lovey cat ever, and it has been so hard for me to let him go, even though he hasn't lived with me for the last 5 years. He has been living with my parents in the only home he has ever known.

Since this blog is all about expressing my feelings, I need to get some of my thoughts and emotions out about losing my "Mowie".

I was on the phone with my dad while the vet put my cat down. I got to tell him goodbye and that I loved him before he passed on. I sobbed like my heart was being rent in two, because it felt like it was. Shortly after my cat had died, I went home from work for the day. I was completely useless to anyone there afterward.

Usually when I get home, Sadie is always at the front door to great me. Maggie hangs back and waits for a bit before coming forward for some hello loves. But yesterday, as soon as I opened the door, Maggie was pushing her way in front of Sadie to get to me. Tears were streaming down my face, and I let the loud sobs come at will. I threw down all of my belongings and sat down on the floor where Mags curled up in my lap and whined gently with me.

I sat there for a long time, just letting the tears and the pain flow before I was overcome with the desire to find pictures of my Mowie to scan for the blog so I could write up a tribute. Even though I was already exhausted from my crying, I had to see pictures of my kitty.

As I sat there, looking at each photo, I couldn't wrap my brain around the fact that I couldn't simply reach into the picture and pet his soft head, stroke his soft paw, or hear him purr. I would never cuddle him again.

After I had pulled a handful of pictures to scan, I decided I needed a nap. I had a headache from all of the crying, and I was exhausted. I fell into the most fitful sleep I have had in a long time. I woke violently constantly. I would have dreams I was falling, or that terrible things were happening to me.

When I did finally get up from my nap, I kept looking to my dresser where the ashes of my last dog are contained in a box. I kept expecting to see my cat's ashes there next to hers already, and I kept expecting to see a light next to it, like a lamp shining down on the two of them, but there is no lamp on the dresser. There never has been. It was like I could not form coherent thoughts through my grief.

The grief seemed to come at me in waves. One moment I would be fine, and the next I would just start sobbing unexpectedly. Shortly after my husband and daughter got home, we finished eating dinner and the tears started to gently roll down my cheeks. I looked over at my daughter, and I have never seen such a sad expression on her face before. She looked at me with concern as she said, "What's wrong?" My 20-month-old daughter was concerned for me and honestly asked me what was wrong. Not even just once, but multiple times. It looks like she will have my empathy. God bless her heart.

After dinner I forced myself to go on a walk. I didn't want to take the dogs, but I did because Mags had not left my side all day, and she deserved to enjoy a walk after keeping such a watchful eye on me. I walked so fast. Like I was trying to run away from something. I walked hard, as if I was determined to leave it behind me. But all along the walking trail, my grief stayed right by my side while my daughter kept calling, "Kitty, where are you?" She did that randomly, and on her own. That's right sweetie, "Kitty, where are you?"

That night I thought for sure I would fall easily to sleep, so for the first time in over a year, I didn't bother taking my melatonin. It was also the first night I was stepping down the dose of my antidepressants by another 5mg. I went to bed and read Twilight, while trying to temporarily take my mind off my grief once again. After one chapter, I decided to get some sleep. Usually I turn on the TV for a bit, and then set it on sleep mode so it will turn itself off after 20 minutes. But last night when I turned the light out after putting my book down, I sat in the cold, dark silence of my room with Mags snuggled up to me and the only sound being the sweet chirping of crickets. I didn't want to disturb the peace. I thought for sure I would drift off easily to sleep.

At 1:00, two hours after I had stopped reading my book, I was still wide awake, tossing and turning. I haven't had trouble falling asleep for years. Why now? What this night? I was exhausted. My head ached from all my crying. I just wanted to sleep. It eluded me and left me to my sadness. Finally I turned on the TV and set it to turn off in 20 minutes. Shortly after it turned off, I started to doze. As I did, I noticed tears were collecting in my eyes on their own.

I miss my kitty.

I love you puddlepuss.

How Happy Are You?

2010-09-30T07:05:00.001-07:00

I read this article on Yahoo today and couldn't help but want to post and pass it on. Apparently I am a pretty happy person. :D

Your emotional well-being isn’t just about your genes or the kind of home you were raised in. It turns out that some pretty interesting factors—backed by science—play a role in how joyful you feel:

You were a smiley student

Adults with the biggest grins in their college yearbook pictures were up to 5 times less likely to be divorced decades later than those who looked less happy, according to a new DePauw University study. A smiler’s positive disposition may attract other happy people or rub off on a spouse.

You have a sister

People with at least one female sibling report better social support, more optimism, and better coping abilities, according to a study presented at the British Psychological Society’s annual conference. Sisters appear to encourage communication and cohesion in families.

You're not glued to the TV

The happiest people spend 30% less time parked in front of the tube, according to a University of Maryland study that analyzed 34 years of data from more than 45,000 Americans. They’re more likely to spend time socializing, reading, or attending religious services—habits that are linked to better moods and health.

You keep souvenirs on display

People who use mementos or photos to remind themselves of good times better appreciate their lives and are happier, says Sonja Lyubomirsky, PhD, a professor of psychology at University of California, Riverside. Good memories remind you of your “happiness potential” and promise that soon you can reach it again.

You make exercise a priority

People who exercise more are less likely to be stressed and more likely to be satisfied with life, according to Danish researchers. Compared with sedentary people, joggers are 70% less likely to have high stress levels and life dissatisfaction, the study found. Couch potatoes who start moderate exercise—the equivalent of 17 to 34 minutes a day—experience the greatest happiness lift.

You have a healthy love life

Physical intimacy is a key contributor to happiness, found a study by Dartmouth economist David Blanchflower, PhD, and Andrew Oswald, PhD, of England's University of Warwick. Married people report 30% more sex than singles, which may be one reason they also report being happier.

You hang out with happy people

Socializing with a cheerful person in your neighborhood increases the likelihood that you’ll be happy too, according to a new study. How often you get together matters most, say the researchers: People who live within half a mile of a buoyant buddy increase their odds of being happy by 42%. If the friend lives farther away (within a 2-mile radius), the chances drop to 22%—probably due to fewer get-togethers.

You stay warm with hot cocoa

Clutching a steaming beverage—coffee and tea also do the trick—can elicit a flood of positive feelings, according to a Yale University study. This may be because people associate physical warmth with emotional warmth, say the researchers. Study subjects held cups of either hot or iced coffee; those gripping warm mugs were more appreciative of friendliness in others and also felt more generous and trusting themselves.

You have two best friends

Among 654 married adults, those who said they had at least two “best friends” (not necessarily including one’s spouse) were likelier to have better mental well-being, says a study. But additional friends didn’t lead to any more happiness than just a pair.

Skunk?

2010-09-28T13:08:00.000-07:00

I have decided not to take my daughter on long grocery shops with me anymore because she gets bored, impatient, and therefore fussy. It was ideal to be able to pick her up from daycare and hit the store on the way home from work when needed, but that was a bad idea, as the Munchkin is usually ready for a drink and a snack after being picked up.

It got to the point a couple of times where I would grab a bag of cheese sticks in the store, open them up, peel one out, and give it to her just to keep from being "that mom and baby." You know the one I'm talking about. The ones where you know their exact location because of the screaming baby. I decided after multiple instances of being that mom that it was easier for me to go after Munchkin goes to bed.

Last night was one such night. A major grocery shop was in order, so there was no way I as going to take her with me. I waited until she went to bed, and then headed out. I first ran over to Targae to see if I could find her some new shoes for fall/winter. Right now she only has two pair of sandals, which aren't conducive to keeping feet warm on cold days. She also needed some long pants because all she currently has are shorts, which thanks to her Buddha Belly are even getting a little too tight (she is 19 months and they are 24-month shorts).

The sun had long gone down by the time I got in my car, and I couldn't help but want to enjoy the cool fall air, so I rolled down my windows. It was at the intersection by Targae that something smelled amiss. It was like a skunk, and maybe something burning. It was foul. It followed me all of the way into the parking lot and made me wonder if if was my car. But once I got out and walked into the store, I realized it wasn't my car because the smell was everywhere, even in the store.

I did my shopping and then headed out to do the major shop at the grocery store. When I came back out of Targae, the smell was still there. I was glad I was driving away from it as I got into my car. But when I got to the grocery store, I could still smell it.

Was it possible the smell had wafted over to this store too, or was it my car, or was it ON my car?

I took my time doing my grocery shopping and went over my budget by double, but that is what happens when you run out of everything all at once. When I came back out to my car, it still smelled a little, but not anywhere near as much... until I opened my car door. It smelled like a skunk had crawled in and let loose!

I started wondering if I had even seen a skunk or road kill on my way to Targae and had no recollection. I must have driven through something though. I drove home with all of my windows down in an attempt to air it out, and then I left them cracked over night in hopes the smell would be gone over night.

No dice. This morning my car still smelled like I had brought home a pet skunk last night. It has stunk all day, even though I keep leaving the windows down. I don't know what to do about it. Obviously the stink got up in my engine compartment somehow. It flat out reeks! I wonder how long I will have to drive around with my windows down before it goes away?

The First Time We Met

2010-09-23T20:29:00.000-07:00

Side note: This post isn't about my husband, but rather the first and only love I have had besides my husband.

It was late in January, somewhere around the 27th. I was 17 years old, and only a few weeks away from turning 18. I had signed up to go to an Honor Band program at a distant state university with a few other kids from my high school. It would be the last year I would be able to go, as I was in my senior year.

I had gone the year before, and truth be told, I wished I hadn't the first day I was there that year because I felt like my band teacher had ripped me off by recommending me for third trumpet, instead of second, which is what I had played my whole trumpeting career. I remember being there that first day, mad as a fire ant, and wishing I hadn't come.

By the end of the first day, I was glad I had gone because I was smitten with my stand partner. A senior at a high school in Nevada named Selwyn. The program was only for a weekend, but there was a bond created between us in that short time. We exchanged addresses and promised to stay in touch by the time it was over. He sent me a graduation announcement later that year. Over the summer, I received a few post cards and letters from Selwyn as he traveled about the country. It turned out he was planning to attend the university that hosted the honor band program that coming fall.

As soon as we were able to sign up for the honor band program my senior year, my name was at the top of the list. The only real reason I wanted to go was so that I could hook it up with Selwyn. I just knew we were going to see each other, fall in love, and the rest would be history. A story for our children.

The day we arrived for the first rehearsal, I looked around anxiously for him. My friend Elisa knew why I was there, and she was just as excited for me as I was. She and I had become very close friends that year, and spent a lot of time together. She had helped put the kibosh in my inner prude, and helped me realize I was a girl who wanted more than just innocent kissing.

Soon enough I found the man I was there to see. My expectations were only let down by my own inability to accurately portray how I felt and why I was there. I was suddenly shy and felt like I was testing the waters. The truth is, Selwyn only showed up to the rehearsal to see me. That should have been my first indication he felt the same way I did, but high school girls are so silly and insecure.

I don't really remember what happened with Selwyn that day after the rehearsal ended, but I do remember that Elisa had invited her stand partner and his best friend back to our hotel that night to hang out. She was the epitome of a flirt. I learned a lot from her. That night, Rick and Nick showed up at our hotel to take us to dinner. Elisa had claimed Rick for herself and reserved Nick for me. Nick was cute and all, but I secretly wanted Rick. He had blonde hair that was cut in the fashionable 90s "bowl cut" and the most gorgeous blue, blue eyes I had ever seen. He was tall, and he smelled so good. He wore black army-style boots that put me in dither.

It turned out, I was in luck. Rick decided he liked me better than Elisa, and Nick and Elisa decided they liked each other better as well, so a swap took place. We spent the rest of the night chatting and enjoying each other's company until our chaperons told the boys to hit the road. Just because they weren't in our room didn't mean we couldn't still talk on the phone until the wee hours of the morning!

The next morning, I was torn. I still wanted to be with Selwyn, but I was developing feelings for Rick too. I was there for Selwyn gosh dang it, and I was going to keep it that way!

When I walked into the rehearsal hall, there was Selwyn, waiting to see me. I walked up to him, flirted, and talked, but not for long. Rick had seen me, and he wasn't having this other guy steal his woman away for the world. He came over and made it clear that he had staked his claim. Selwyn barely put up a fight. Before I knew it, the guy I had driven all that way to be with was gone from my life for good. However, I didn't feel like I had lost out at all. I saw it as fate.

That afternoon when we broke for lunch, Rick, Nick, Elisa, and I went to the grocery store to find some good old fashioned junk food to eat. It was while we were there that Rick told me if my hands were cold, I could put them in his pocket. My stomach did a flip, as I put my hand into his pocket where his warm hand was waiting. Our hands met, and flash of electricity went through me. It felt so good, and so right. I had no idea in that moment that I was holding hands with the first guy I would ever love.

Later that afternoon on a mini-break from rehearsal, Rick and I were sitting in a hallway, talking. I took his class ring from him, and as a joke, told him I wasn't going to give it back and he told me that was fine. I told him I was only joking, and offered his ring back. He told me to hang on to it for the remainder of the weekend. I was elated as I clutched it in my hand.

That night was our final performance, and the next day we would all be heading home. The four of us stayed together for as long as we could, before our chaperons reeled us into our respective hotels for the night. The boys promised to come back over first thing in the morning to tell us goodbye before we all went home.

The next morning, the boys showed up to our rooms right on time. Rick and I found a back stairwell where we sat and talked, and had our first kiss. I didn't know what to expect, but I figured the romance would, unfortunately, be short-lived. I thought that once we went our separate ways, things would fizzle out over the matter of a couple weeks because of the distance between us.

I offered him his ring back, and he told me to hang onto it, that he would come out to my house for it as soon as he could. He lived 3 hours from me, but I wasn't going to argue. I would take any excuse to be with him again, even if it was only one more time. I was happy that things would last at least that long between us. If I had his ring, he had to come get it. I promised to take care of it and not lose it. Then all too soon, he had to go, and we went our separate ways.

I drove home that day on Cloud 9. I didn't know where things would go with us, but for the moment, I was completely infatuated.

The second I got home, my dad asked me who Rick was. I was perplexed. How could he know about him already? Did one of my chaperons squeal on me? No. Rick had called three times already, and promised to call back again shortly. I was so giddy. There is nothing that compares to those feelings that pulse through you when you first meet and make a connection with the person who will become your significant other.

For now, things were fun and exciting and full of hope. Only time would tell where it would go.

Before We Begin

2010-09-22T12:40:00.001-07:00

So, this was going to be the post to kick off the memoirs, but I decided I am not quite ready to write up that first post yet (I haven't mentally written enough of it in my head), and I wanted to share a couple of other things in the meantime.

First of all, Fran asked me if I was still going to blog about our progress on TTC #2 on this blog. The answer to that is, absolutely. If I have any news about that, I will definitely let you all know. The way I see it, this blog isn't going to change, it is just going to get better and more expansive. In fact, as I was sitting in a boring training the other day, I created this drawing of how I envision my blog:

As you can see, the roots of the tree are collecting blog content that feeds the tree with mostly day-to-day life, which then branches out into randomness, TTC, and memoirs. Yes, that is a stick figure of me sitting under my tree, blogging. And yes, there are squirrels and birds in my tree too.

I also wanted to share a few other random things with you in this post:

I found my first love on FB the other day. I had had a dream about him a few days prior, which got me to thinking about him and wondering where he was. When I saw his picture, my first thought was, "Boy did I dodge that bullet! You look like you live in a trailer and watch Je.rry Sprin.ger." Okay, the last part may be a bit harsh, but I really do feel like I dodged a bullet when things didn't work out between us and we didn't get married, as we had so often planned. Let me tell you, seeing his face made me even more grateful for the man I am married to now.
I know at least my blog friend Hannah is super excited about the new season of Glee, but I want to know who else is besides us? Hannah is actually the gal who got me to watching the show in the first place, and I have to say I love her for that. Glee rocks! The first episode of this season was no let down either. I am really excited for this season!
I am really, really sad that this season is the last season of Little People, Big World. I have been watching that show since it started 5 years ago. When I heard it was the final season, I got choked up and wanted to cry. I am really going to miss that show and feeling like I am a part of the Roloff family. I learned a lot about dwarfs and just how much they go through in daily life as well as in their lifetime. It has definitely given me a greater appreciation for them.
I watched a TV show a while ago that studied what happens to women during a full monthly cycle. They wanted to see how the woman's body changed over the span of a cycle. They found that a woman's complexion actually clears up around ovulation and that her skin looks its nicest around this time as well. Additionally, the pitch of her voice goes up a bit, and her scent changes. The latter is no surprise, as scent is what tells males in all species when a female is in heat. Ever since I watched that program, I have been watching my complexion to see if I notice a change around ovulation. This month it was my first indication that ovulation was nearing. It cleared up even before I got the lovely EWCM. It's not even just that it clears up, but the pores become more refined and less noticeable and the overall skin looks softer and smoother. Interesting huh?

Well, that's it for me. It's 11:30 and I am exhausted. Signing off for now!

A New Budding Branch

2010-09-21T20:14:00.001-07:00

After much thinking over the past few years, and especially the past few months, I have decided this blog is going to take a new direction. Not completely, mind you, but a direction that will add to its repertoire and help me get out some of the thoughts and feelings that often swirl about inside me, begging to be written down for the sake of posterity.

Every now and then I will reminisce about my past, and a part of me longs to blog about it and then one day print the blog into a book, maybe for my children or maybe just for me. I have attempted many times in my past to write a book for myself, a memoir. Who of us in blogland haven't thought about doing that? All of our lives are interesting, and we all want to share them. So to scratch my itch, I will be doing posts every now and then to begin my memoirs about the important moments in my past that won't and aren't talked about in my daily life. After all, there is so much more to me than PPD, IF, and what happens in the current day.

This project isn't as much about readership and comments as it is for me to read over years from now when my already imperfect memories of these moments become fuzzy and start to fade. Heaven knows my memory has been lacking since I embarked on infertility treatments 4 years ago. All of those medicated cycles and synthetic hormones wreaked havoc on my once near pristine memory.

Case in point, I never needed a grocery list before I went through IF. I would simply remember what aisles I needed to visit when I went to the store. If I forgot what I needed, I would just go to the specific aisle because it would jog my memory. It always amazed my best friend. I never forgot a date or an appointment, even for other people. My husband used to ask me to remember things for him and remind him, and I always did. Now, however, it is a completely different story, and it's sad.

I do have the good fortune of scattered diary entries, which will make guest appearances along with pictures and letters.

I am quite looking forward to my new project. If nothing else, I will have a great time writing it all down.

It's Harder Than I Thought

2010-09-13T21:17:00.000-07:00

I realized last night that I really am having a little PTSD now that I am back at TTC. Despite the fact that I have taken away the need to stress about getting pregnant, and the need to do everything in my power to make it happen short of using OPKs and timed intercourse, I am still a little shell shocked. The part of me that I didn't think would come back this time around, absolutely has.

You know how when you've been in the TTC ring for so long, you flinch when you see a pregnant belly, avert your eyes when you go past the maternity section, or want to throw things at the TV every time a pregnancy test commercial comes on? Well, paint a big red dot on the floor, because I'm there. The worst part is, I am really surprised I feel this way.

I am working on getting past these feelings because I don't want to own them anymore. I thought I left them at the door when I got pregnant over 2 years ago now. I honestly did not expect them to resurface, but holy cow, have they ever! It isn't even a conscious thing. It isn't until the thought has been thought that I realize my brain put it out there. Every time it does, I have to sort through it in an attempt to help it on its way and out of my life.

I don't like being the green eyed-monster. I don't like being a bitter infertile. I have no reason to be that person either. I already overcame my infertility and have a beautiful baby girl to show for it. So why then, does it hurt so much to see these things?

I guess it is just like how when that song you danced to at your Junior Prom comes on the radio, you get taken back to that time and place. You remember how you felt that night when this song came on and you looked your date in the eyes and told yourself it was a moment you would never forget. Only this time, the song stinks and it takes me back to a place and time in my life I would rather leave behind.

I know what I need to do right now. I need to move these feelings and use them for something else. They have served their purpose, which is to protect me from heartache. Now they need a new purpose. I haven't figured out what it is yet, but I will work on finding them a new home and soon.

See that! My blog is just as good as seeing a shrink and it doesn't cost me a dime!

Amatuer Doggie Agility

2010-09-06T20:06:00.000-07:00

Remember in my last post how I said I had a cute idea for a blog post with my dogs? Well today the fam went to the local playground just so I could create the following "vlog" for all of you. I kept it short so you won't spend anymore time watching it than you would reading a post. Enjoy!

P.S. Please excuse my sniffles and dumb laugh. Either our household is going through major allergies, or we've all got colds. The jury is still out on that one.

Feeling the Love

2010-08-31T19:42:00.000-07:00

Thank you ladies for making me feel so loved in my last post. I swear I wasn't trying to throw a pity party, but rather to say that I don't blog just for comments. They are a very nice added bonus to blogging, but they aren't the primary reason I do it. I just needed to remind myself why I'm here, so I did. It sounds to me that not only are most of us behind on blogs, but that a lot of us have experienced low comment levels lately. Fran brought up a great point when she reminded me it is sill summer in the Northern Hemisphere, so a lot of us are away from our computers a lot. I think all of us go through phases too, where we are constantly on the blogs and then when we're burned out. The bottom line is we are all always here for each other when we can be and that is all that matters.

I was going to do a post tonight about a belated case of the Mondays, but my To Do list wasn't cute or quarky because I haven't had much on my mind other than being in the TWW. During the only meeting I have had so far this week I mapped out when AF is due to help me determine the earliest date I could take a pregnancy test, which is next Tuesday or Wednesday. AF is due on Wednesday, but if my last pregnancy is any indication, I wouldn't get a positive until a couple days after AF is due. Of course, all babies are different and this one could kick out the hormones faster than the Munchkin did. I guess we'll see.

I don't know if I told you all, but I started talking to my BIL (aka MIL) again recently. If you missed that lovely post, you can read about it here, but you really don't have to. She is always true to form and a complete B to the last drop. Anyway, she read my blog post on the primary blog where I asked if anyone knew why I would ovulate early, so she decided to send me an email. Keep in mind, I am only 31. She told me that a shortened cycle was due to lack of estrogen, and that estrogen depletes as we get older and near menopause. She also told me that getting nooky helps to increase estrogen levels and then went into way too much detail about her own sexual past post-menopause. Seriously?! I know she was going for shock factor there, but come on lady! Have some class will you?

I emailed her back and basically told her to shut her pie hole. Never talk to an infertile about monthly cycles! Its like talking to an accountant about taxes when you don't have any idea what you're talking about (which she does to her accountant sister). I put her in her place and then told her what my doctor said about all of my symptoms being an indication of high fertility.

She didn't email me back.

Good girl.

Now leave me alone.

I just love how she says I am overly sensitive and take everything she says the wrong way. No, no I'm not. I know exactly how she means it, and she means it exactly how I take it. She is just super manipulative, and I'm not falling for it or having it.

Have I mentioned I loathe this woman?

My husband told me tonight that his mother probably was menopausal at my age thanks to all her years of recreational drugs and binge drinking. He said when she was 31 she looked like she was 50, had no hair, had no teeth, and was single. I guess she is just trying to bring me down to make herself feel better. Too bad for her I'm neither weak, nor stupid. She is the only one who feels bad for her.

I don't want to leave you all with a bad taste in your mouth, so I will finish this post with something else. I just needed to get that off my chest, as this is cheap therapy.

I have the cutest post idea, and I am hoping to put it together this weekend. All I will say is that it involves my fabulous dogs doing what they do best. I learned this past weekend that I am not doing one of them any favors by not getting her into agility, and now I am really thinking about it. It will require an initial investment for equipment and a bit of time, but I think the enjoyment all of us will get out of it will be so beyond worth it. So stay tuned for a post that will make you smile and laugh. :)

Boring?

2010-08-29T21:34:00.001-07:00

Am I a boring blogger lately? I can't help but notice I get traffic to the blog, but no one leaves comments anymore. I have to be honest and say it makes me a bit sad. I mentioned it to my friend J last week and said maybe it is time to shut this blog down. Then I got to thinking about it, and my next statement to her was that this blog isn't about getting comments. Its about me being able to write out my thoughts and feelings that I don't feel I can express on my primary blog. Admittedly, I do post things on this blog that I would post on the primary one, I just feel like I need to do fun things on this one every now and then too. So whether or not this blog gets 5 hits or 50 million hits a day, no comments or a hundred comments, it is going to stay because I need this blog to help me heal.

Now that all of that is out of the way, I wanted to let you all know that I am officially in my first TWW for the first time in over two years. I am really excited and I feel really good about things. I feel positive, and am praying that my positivity is because my intuition is right. I won't know until the end of the week at the earliest. I just hope and pray there is a little embie making its way down the fallopian tube right now.

Things on the antidepressant front are going well too. I moved my dose back up to 30mg a week and a half ago and have leveled off nicely. I am back to where I was on the 40mg dose. I am every bit as happy and content with no mood swings, depression, or other weirdness. I do get a little dizzy from time to time, which is normal and is about the only symptom I have had since I boosted the dose back up. I will try stepping down to 20 this week and see how things go. I am sure I will have to re-equilibriate on that dose, but I know now what to expect and about how long it should last. I am confident that I will be able to be off the meds within the next 6 or so weeks.

Well, its late and I am really sleepy, so I'm off to bed. Night ya'll!

Her Hidden Past

2010-08-26T21:25:00.000-07:00

I wasn't sure if it was okay for me to be posting about my relationships before my husband on my blog, so I asked my best friend J. She said it was cool to post my funny stories on this blog, seeing as it's anonymous, but not on my primary one. I have been waffling for some time about doing it, and have been wanting to, so I will. Just don't tell DH. ;)

I believe that every woman's past makes her who she is. Her past relationships are sometimes her dark, hidden secrets that make her smile oh so mysterious and are rarely talked about. They are what is behind the curtain. Sometimes those stories are just too rich to not share. One day I will share all of my stories with my daughter when she grows up so that she can know her mother really did live before she met her father, got married, and started her family. I like to think that my past might one day help my daughter make good decisions because she knows her mother has been there and done that and can give her wise advice. I will also delight in seeing the smile on her face when I tell her about some of the cutest stories, or laugh when I tell her about some of the dumber guys.

It was through dating that I was able to weed out the qualities I didn't want in a husband and find the man I did want to unquestionably spend the rest of my life with. Each and every guy who came and went through my life was an integral part of who I am today and the relationship I have with my husband. I often think back over those relationships and laugh at the silliness, the stupidity, and definitely the drama.

I wanted to tell you one story in particular, but it is already 11:30 here and I should be in bed. Not only that, but the story would make this post way too long. So instead, I will tell you about my all-time favorite kiss. No, it wasn't with my husband, although he has had some chart toppers. Again, don't tell him!

A couple months before I met my husband, I was dating a guy we'll call James. I had met him at church and was instantly attracted to him. He was built like a big farm boy, burly, with reddish hair and freckles. He was reserved and sweet. Being the lioness I was, I found and stalked my prey until I had won my prize.

From the moment we started dating, I vowed to take things slow with this guy. I didn't want to rush through all the firsts, as those are the most thrilling part of a new relationship (and my favorite). I also decided to let him do things on his terms. In other words, I was going to let him make all of the first moves.

We had been dating for two weeks and James and I still had not kissed. We went on a date one weekend, and he took me home afterward. He was the perfect gentleman and walked me up to my front door. We hugged for a bit and said the usual, "I had a good time" jazz. I waited for him to kiss me, but he didn't. I could tell he wanted to, but he was too chicken to just go for it. Since I had promised myself I wouldn't make the first move, I just smiled to myself and enjoyed the intensity of the anticipation. He finally told me good night, turned, and walked down the sidewalk to his truck. I stood on the door step smiling as I watched him go, wondering when he would make his move. Just then he stopped at the end of the sidewalk, turned around, came back, and gave me the sweetest, most gentle, yet passionate kiss ever.

I will never forget that kiss. I had never been kissed like that before, and I had never had a guy walk away, kicking himself so much for not kissing me that he actually turned around and came back to do the job. It was pure magic.

Slacker!

2010-08-24T20:52:00.000-07:00

I have been a major blog slacker lately and I have no excuse other than that it is summer and a zillion degrees here, which turns my brain to mush. I signed up for ICLW thinking, "Surely I can comment on six blogs a day." I hate myself right now. I can't even keep up with the blogs I follow. What was I thinking? I am, however, able to at least comment back on bloggers who stop by. I will make a huge attempt to read up this weekend.

Have any of you in the US heard of a site called Gro.upon? My husband joined this site last year because they have daily deals for attractions around your area. For example, there was a dinner theater here that was selling tickets to a show for 60% off the original cost. You could only get the deal by buying the Gro.upon through the website. Each deal usually lasts only a day. Sometimes stipulations are placed on the deal, such as at least 30 people have to buy in or the deal is off. My husband bought my laser hair removal through one of these babies (which, by the way is going awesome; I know I'm weird because the laser doesn't hurt, it tickles--at the highest setting).

While we were at work today, DH sent me a link to the deal of the day, which happened to be a class on speed reading. At first I thought it was stupid and wondered if he was serious. Then I looked into the website for the company offering the class and realized I could use speed reading to get through my blogs in half the time it normally takes me, which means I could keep up, which means I could quit feeling guilty when I can't keep up, which means I won't avoid the blogs because I know I am so far behind I will never catch up. Whoa! Sign me up baby! See that, I'm always thinking about my blogs. lol

I'm hoping he bought the deal. I can't tell you how appealing it sounds to me, not only for blogging purposes, but because I want a Kin.dle for Christmas. Do you know how many books I could read?! The company also guarantees that you don't lose comprehension by speed reading, it just helps you read faster so you can read more. I like that idea.

If he actually did sign us up, I'll be sure to let you all know how it goes. :)

Getting to Know You

2010-08-21T21:02:00.000-07:00

Hello to all of you who are visiting for ICLW, and for those of you who are returning visitors. I thought instead of giving you a blah, blah, blah post for this ICLW, I would give you a Q&A session to give you a little insight into who I am and why I'm here.

Q: How did your blog get started, and what is it about?
A: This blog is actually my secondary and anonymous blog. It was started just one year ago when I was dealing with some serious post partum depression after my daughter was born. I felt like I had been given a double wammy in that I had gone through two years of infertility just to become a mother, and then when I finally achieved the dream, I got hit with PPD and wasn't able to enjoy being a mother the way I wanted and needed to. My first blog was so therapeutic while I was fighting the IF battle that I decided I needed an anonymous blog to help me through PPD because I didn't want everyone IRL to know I was going through this and on medication.

This blog gives me complete and total freedom to write whatever I want without the fear of someone IRL coming across it. Sometimes we just need to vent about people or circumstances in our lives to help us deal with those situations, but that doesn't mean we need our friends and family knowing about it (or reading what we say about them).

Q: What do you blog about most?
A: I mostly blog about every day life. I don't write very much here about my battles with infertility (I am still fighting it while trying to conceive again) or even being a mother. This blog is more about my random thoughts and feelings. Sometimes it is funny (or so I think), sometimes it is serious, and sometimes it is thoughtful. There are no holes barred when it comes to this blog and my subject matter.

Q: What do you like about blogging?
A: I love that I get to meet and support so many other women who know exactly the pain and trauma I have been through, both with my battles through infertility, and my battle with depression. It is nice to know that am I not alone in my struggles, but I also appreciate the opportunity to help uplift others who are where I have been. I love to think that I give others hope in their darkest hours.

Q: Who are you?
A: I am a mother who overcame infertility and PPD, who is now living the life she always dreamed of. I am a wife to one of the most incredible, loving, caring, understanding man on the planet. I am blessed beyond words in every aspect of my life. I am an avid dog lover. I am logical and emotional, crazy and sane, a lover of life, and a friend to many. I am a healer, full of empathy and love, with strength to give when strength is needed. I am the best me I can possibly be. If there were two of me, we would be the best of friends.

I hope you enjoyed your introduction into Saige, the anon blogger. I look forward to reading your blogs as ICLW gets under way. Thank you for stopping by. :)

Uh Oh, Withdrawals

2010-08-19T20:03:00.000-07:00

Just over two weeks ago I started coming off my antidepressants. My doctor wanted to take it slow getting me off them, so we had a plan to half the dose every two weeks over the next six weeks. I didn't realize until yesterday that even halving the dose was too much too fast.

The last week or so I have had a really hard time being at work. I didn't know why. I like my job. I like what I do. I like the people I work with. But I just plain didn't want to be there so bad it was downright depressing. On top of that, I was unbelievably exhausted. I couldn't focus. I couldn't remember what day of the week it was (still can't). All I wanted to do was sleep. I was so blue, and for no good reason. When I went out to lunch with my two best friends, I had nothing to say. I just sat there, and for once, couldn't hold up my end of the conversation. It was very out of character for me.

Yesterday at work, I was tired of being so down and not knowing why. Then I had an epiphany. I IMed my best friend J, who is also on anti-deps, and asked her if she thought my blues were a side effect of coming off the meds. Her instant reply was, "Yes." So I turned to Dr. Google. As I read up, I realized I had been having major withdrawals from the meds and didn't even know it. It sure explained a LOT about my behavior the last two weeks.

I blew up at my husband twice over the weekend with little to no provocation on his part, and I was so angry I was seething inside. I don't remember the last time I was that mad, let alone over nothing. On Monday I was full on screaming at other drivers on my way into work. I got there and thought how very unlike me that was. But during none of those outbreaks did I piece together it had anything to do with withdrawals. I've never been on meds this long before, and certainly never long enough to have withdrawals from them. I honestly thought I would half my dose every other week for six weeks and wouldn't notice. HA!

After I googled to find out what the symptoms were, I IMed my husband and told him what I had found. Like me, he said it explained a lot about my recent behavior. I was seriously depressed that going off my antidepressants was making me depressed. I had no idea this was going to happen. I also read that my doctor is smarter than most doctors about getting me off the meds, but that he was still doing it too quickly. I'll spare you the details, but after some thought on my part, a discussion with my friends and family who have been on SSRI's, and a quick phone call to my doctor, I have decided to make getting off the meds take longer than anticipated. I simply cannot handle the withdrawal symptoms, or rather, choose not to.

My mother thinks because I am having withdrawals it means I should never go off of them. Thanks mom, but you're wrong. ANYONE who has been on them and especially for more than 6 months is going to have withdrawals even with tapering off very slowly, simply because the brain now has to figure out how to do on its own what the meds have been doing for it. It takes time for that to work. That's just like saying people who smoke should always smoke because the withdrawal symptoms mean they need the nicotine to survive. Guess again.

The good thing is, my withdrawal symptoms make me terribly apathetic about pretty much everything right now, so I don't care if it takes me longer to get off of them. Whatever. One side effect I am loving though is loss of appetite. I eat too much normally, so it is nice to not have food sound good for a while, especially because I would like to drop a few before I get knocked up in a couple weeks. ;)

So tonight I bumped my dose up to 1.5 times what I have been on for the last two weeks in an attempt to regain my happiness equilibrium, and I will taper off even more slowly than originally planned. Its worth my sanity and that of the loved ones around me. Bummer, but oh well. We do what we have to do, right gals?

Blogward

2010-08-17T21:10:00.000-07:00

A while back, my dear blog friend Anxious Mummy presented me with the Versatile Blogger Award. To show my appreciation, I will answer the call.

1. Thank the person who gave you the award.
2. Tell 7 things about yourself that readers may not know.
3. Pay it forward by nominating 8 bloggers you’ve recently discovered.

Seven things about me you don't already know huh? This should be fun.

I don't think I am transitioning well to going off the meds. I have been very lethargic, have a major case of apathy regarding most things, and have been generally cranky, but mostly while at work. Now that I think about it, the lack of meds may have nothing to do with any of those symptoms at all, since they only seem to be present while at work. Hmmmm....
Since I can no longer spend money willy nilly, due to finally combining finances with my husband in an attempt to rid ourselves of debt, I have replaced my need to spend with a need to clean. Instead of getting a high off of buying something, I now get a high off of cleaning a space or decluttering. My house has never been so constantly clean, and DH likes the decluttering.
Despite my newly found lethargy and apathy, I am extremely excited to start BDing with a cause in the next couple of days. It has been so long since we were able to do that, and I am really looking forward to it. I feel as though a gate has been opened, and my horse has been cleared to race after a long stint in the stall due to injuries.
I hate Texas summers with a passion. I was totally over this summer the day summer left last year. I have honestly been dreading this summer since last October when things finally cooled down, and enjoyed each and every day where the thermometer didn't get over 85 between then and May of this year. These 100 degree temps have my permission to make a very early exit.
Infertility never affected anyone close to me until I moved to Texas. Now I have two friends, one of them a best friend, who are fighting the good fight.
I like plants. I can't always keep them alive, but I love having them around. I have 7 plants on my desk at work and 9+ plants at home. I think that is why my house doesn't smell like dogs, because the plants scrub the air. I am always on the lookout for new plants.
My husband and I are relandscaping our back yard, and he is putting in a fish pond just for me. He knows I love the idea of having a fish pond, so he is willing to spare the expense of time and money to give it to me. He's the sweetest.

There you have it, my 7 things. This is where my lame apathy comes in. I am just going to say that if you feel like being presented with this award, leave me a comment stating as much, and I will pass it on. :)

A Case of the Mondays

2010-08-16T10:20:00.000-07:00

To do:

My Mama Car

2010-08-12T18:11:00.001-07:00

You know how I recently upsized my purse and am now ready to upsize my car too? Well after just a few hours of searching online and car shopping over one weekend, I have decided this is the car I will get.

This, my friends, is a Ch.evy Trav.erse. It has all of the amenities of a minivan, but it doesn't look like a minivan. The only other thing it doesn't have in common with a minivan is a ton of space, but I am willing to give up a bit of space for a car that doesn't automatically stereotype me as a woman driver in a minivan (e.g., stupid, unable to drive and think that the same time).

This is exactly the color I want too. It can come with all the amenities such as a DVD entertainment system for the kiddies and climate controls in the back seat, which is a huge selling point for me. I want one RIGHT NOW, but not only do I not need it right now, Hubs and I are very diligently paying off our credit cards and heading toward getting out of debt in the next few months. Once the cards are gone and there is a bun in the oven, this baby will be mine. I salivate and dream about it daily.

Just a side note, I am behind on commenting and reading, again, but will be catching up this weekend. :)

Upsizing and Loving It

2010-08-11T20:41:00.000-07:00

No, I'm not talking about my waistline, although with my impending AF visit this weekend, my waistline has felt the need to upsize, much to my extreme dismay and upset. What I'm really talking about my preparations for a bigger family.

Over the past weekend I took the Munchkin to get some new sandals. We still have about a billion more days left of summer here in Texas, and she just outgrew her two existing pairs. Believe it or not, even though summer is ENDLESS in Texas, people quit carrying sandals already. This didn't bother me one bit though because I knew exactly where to find some, and I knew they would be on sale. I was right. Not only were they on sale, they were buy one get one half off, which meant I basically got the Munchkin a free pair of sandals when I also decided to buy myself a new, larger (e.g., mom) purse.

I didn't used to be a purse gal. In fact, when I met my husband I kept my keys, wallet, and chapstick in my pocket. He somehow convinced me that keeping all of those things in my pockets wasn't "hot", so I finally broke down and bought a purse. I've had them ever since. The caveat there is that I refused to carry anything bigger than a small purse. As in, just big enough to carry my phone, wallet, keys, a tube of chapstick, and a pack of tissues. However, I recently came to the conclusion that I should carry a bigger purse if for no other reason than that I could carry snacks for my daughter in it to help prevent hunger meltdowns.

So while I was buying toddler sandals, I bought the next purse size up from my current model. It still isn't a large purse, but it is a medium sized one. When I got home, it was sickening how much I enjoyed all of the space and compartments it had. I can fit a diaper, a pack of wipes, 3 disposable bibs, and a bunch of disposable color-on placements for the Munchkin in one pocket! Not only that, but its a side pocket! My husband laughed as I happily stuffed things in there that I had never been able to fit in my old purse. I was so excited as I shoved a baggie of cereal in there, knowing it wouldn't get squished in the cavernous middle pocket. I kept saying over and over that I loved being a mom.

Then I hit him with, "I've got the mom purse, now I need the mom car." :D

A couple of weekends ago we went looking at bigger vehicles. We'll get one when we're close to having our second child, but we wanted to see what was available before then so we could get an idea not only of what we wanted, but the price of the vehicle. The thing I love about cars now is I can walk into a dealership and say, "I want a vehicle that seats 7-8 people, but that isn't a minivan," and they take me to a crossover that does just that.

I REFUSE to drive a minivan.

Happily, they have some awesome crossovers that are exactly like minivans, only without the dumpy van look and without a sliding door. Now all I need is another bun in the oven, and the vehicle I want is mine! Here's to hoping I get my new car in about 8 months. ;)

A Case of the Monday's

2010-08-09T12:50:00.001-07:00

To Do:

This Monday was an extra special one. It started out like any other over the past week with my being awoken by Cak.e's Typew.riter (which, by the way, I'm not sold on being woken up to). But the difference today was I got to dawn blue jeans and a comfy, casual-ish shirt. I had to be out of the house by 7:40 because I wasn't heading to work, I was heading to jury duty. Oh yeah, good old jury duty.

Guess what? I'd rather have my foot stuck in a bear trap than go to jury duty. Okay, maybe not, but I really didn't want to go. At all. Some people were envious I had been called, others thought it would be fun, and some were of the same opinion I was, Ugh. I'm all for juries, as long as I'm not on them. I think they're important, so they should want people to be on them who are willing to be on them and who aren't just there out of civil duty or the fear of being tossed in jail for being held contempt if they don't show up.

I showed up on time, barely, thanks to traffic coming to a complete halt several times on the freeway despite the fact I was going the opposite direction of commuting traffic (which did not help my mood [did I mention I'm PMSing today?]). I walked up the marble staircase to the jury room and feasted my eyes upon hundreds (yes 300 of us) of other lucky juror candidates. I checked in, made my way to an empty seat, and waited. Over the next two hours they read over reasons we might be exempted from serving today, and then told us they only needed 72 people. They began calling out the names of the first 20. I laughed to myself as I thought, "I won't be picked simply because they won't be able to say my last name." Just as they were getting ready to call the remaining 52, they told us the case had been cancelled and we could all go.

HURRAH!!!

At 10:00 on a Monday morning, I was free! I had absolutely ZERO intention of going into work. I called DH to tell him I had been dismissed and asked if I should go to work. He said he would. Yeah right, who doesn't use a Get Out Of Jail Free pass when they have one? So I went and did my grocery shopping. After I got home and unloaded, I called my dad, who also told me if he had gotten out early, he would go to work. Dammit! I felt guilty. I needed to be at work. I had deadlines, but, but.... By 12:00, my butt was in my desk chair and my computer was booting. I hated myself for the next 5 hours. I seriously wanted to kick my own butt.

Although today wasn't my typical Monday, it was definitely a Monday, as evidenced by my walking into Subw.ay at lunch and ordering a 6-foot sandwich, instead of a footlong. Wow. After a bevy of other brainless things today, I decided it was appropriate to put, "Stop Being Blonde" on my list of things to do this week.

Happy work-week ya'll!

6 Weeks

2010-08-03T20:11:00.000-07:00

I went to the doctor this week about getting off my meds, and it is going to take 6 weeks to be med free. My doctor felt that because of the dosage I was on and for the length of time I was on them, it would be best to slowly wean me off them, which is just fine with me. I was kind of surprised, as I thought he would have me done in a couple of weeks, but I totally trust his recommendation. I have been on half my normal dose for a couple of days now and haven't noticed even the slightest difference, which is great news. I just hope it continues to go this smoothly. Honestly, I think it will. I went my whole life without being on antidepressants, and the only reason I went on them a year ago is because I was having a hard time with Post Partum Depression.

As for life lately, well it has just been plain busy. I am definitely not on the blogs as much anymore, but I do catch up whenever I get the chance. I have taken the pressure off of myself to read each and every single update on both of my blogs, as well as my need to post frequently. If I don't feel like getting on to post or read one day, I don't. It has been so nice to allow myself to enjoy life without adding stress of keeping up on 85+ blogs and posting on 2. And honestly, I don't think anyone really notices all that much. They might think, "Hey, she hasn't commented on my blog for a few days," but I doubt any of you get upset about it. I know I don't when it goes the other way. I just figure you are living life, and you'll catch up when you have time. I do still have nights where I tell my husband I want to blog after we put the baby to bed, and he is okay with that as long as he gets the majority of my nights all to himself.

Not much has been going on lately. I'm just waiting for AF to rear next week, and then its full tilt to baby production for the first time in over 2 years. I am excited and hopeful to be back in the game. I've been gearing up and lining out battle plans. DH is aware of his responsibilities in this task. I told him just when and how many times he will need to perform, and I have given him plenty of notice so he won't have any excuses when the time comes. I've been trying to pump him up. lol

That's it on my end. I hope ya'll are doing great!

A Case of the Mondays

2010-08-02T10:48:00.000-07:00

To Do:

I woke up this morning to a new CD. My daughter had taken my Frank Sinatra CD out and run around the house with it. Rather than try to find it, I put in the sound track to Or.ange Cou.nty. I was a little perplexed when Ca.ke's Ty.pewriter started playing to greet me to another Monday morning. What had I done to deserve yet another weekend disappearing into oblivion all too soon?

You know the drill. I got out of bed, got ready for work, and all that jazz, but today was a little different. You see, Hubs and I had a semi-argument this weekend about whose fault it was we had been getting out of the house between 7:45-7:50 during the week, so today neither of us wanted it to be our fault if we weren't all out the door by 7:30. The stink actually got up 20 minutes early just to try to beat me! And then he didn't do the Munchkin's hair in anyway that would keep it out of her face for more than 5 minutes. I made him wait until I could pull it back into some braids before he whisked her off to daycare.

I got into work feeling pretty good for a Monday. Made myself a blueberry English muffin with butter, but before I even had the chance to sign into IM, I got a meeting request to remind me today was the Q2 Quarterly review. Dag nabit! Can't a girl take a second to gear up for her Monday before being thrown into meetings?!

The review was a joke, and I had to try not to scoff through half of it. Morale at my company is pretty low, what with their recent downsizing of not only our shoe boxes, er cubicles, as well as staff. Then the VP talked about how proud he was of Gary's team for launching their product on time. *SCOFF* *SNIGGER* *Try not to choke on your own spit please* Gary may have released on time, but let's just say things have not gone swimmingly since he did because he rushed the project rather than taking the time to do things right. Way to go Gary. Pat yourself on the back... with a mace....

By the time that painful meeting got over, it was time for the meeting with Gary's team. The one in which I doodle the lovely To Do List above. Shortly after I walked in, so did Gary. The meeting commenced, along with said doodling. At one point something was said that made me want to give the commenter a serious high five. After it was said, I looked at Gary to see his reaction (because I was sure it wouldn't make him happy). Gary looked like he had been hit by a bus. His eyes were all blood shot, he looked like he had aged 10 years, and he looked like complete crap. It shocked me, but I actually felt bad for him. I wondered what was going on that would cause him to look so horrible. I even thought about asking him if he was okay. (Holy shnikies, I was going to ask if he was okay!) I didn't though.

My day went on, and I muddled through. The company provided lunch, as they do with every quarterly review, and I enjoyed the company of one of my two BFFs, J. Together we snarfed down chips and salsa and enchiladas. All too soon, it was over and we were back to work. But the best part was yet to come!

At 7:40 tonight, I headed out the door for an hour-long massage. Oh yeah baby! Who is the smart, sexy gal who thought to schedule herself a massage at the end of a Monday? That would be ME because I rock like that.

Can I just say, the massage was AWE-SOME! I gave up each and every muscle to the masseuse's fingers. I didn't fight her touch once, no matter how uncomfortable some of my muscles were. I let her take each and every knot. Then she got to my feet, and holy cow I was in HEAVEN! She worked my feet like they have never been worked before. She rubbed each little piggy up and down and all around, and it felt so incredible. I don't remember the last time my shoulders felt as loose as they do right now. I only wish it would last.

That brings us to now, my favorite part of a Monday, sitting in bed, blogging, and getting ready to say good night to all the world. And with that, I bid you all good evening.

P.S. Today's effigy is me holding Gary The Snake by the throat as an arrow pierces his side while telling him to, "Testify!". Next to us is a sequence of clocks in which time stands still, and then goes backward during the wrong part of the day.

Bye Bye Meds

2010-07-30T21:18:00.000-07:00

Over the last week my subconscious kept telling me that since we are going to start trying for a baby next month that it is time for me to get off my antidepressants. The thought has nagged and nagged me, until finally I called the doctor's office the other day and made my appointment for next Tuesday.

When I went on them a year ago my plan was to stay on them until I found out I was pregnant. Well, that was the plan as long as my IUD came out in February and we were right back at trying for a baby. We all know that didn't happen. I was so glad I was still on them back then, and decided to stay on them until after my surgery and up until we got pregnant again. Apparently though, my subconscious has other plans and has decided I should go off them now, before we even start trying.

Over the past year, I was nervous about the day I started to wean off. They really did help even me out and keep me sane. But as my doctor says, once the brain figures out how to do these things on its own, the meds aren't necessary any more. We hope that will be the case with me.

I have never been on any medication for so long in my life. Having said that, I feel pretty confident that all of my neurons and receptors are fully capable of doing their jobs without the aid of my meds anymore. I am no longer nervous to go off of them, but excited because its time. They have done their job and served their purpose, and I am ready to be free of them. I am actually pretty excited.

I guess over the next month we will see how I do. I'm ready to lose the crutch and start running on my own again.

A Case of the Mondays

2010-07-26T11:10:00.000-07:00

I really enjoyed doing my post last week entitled, "A Case of the Mondays" and have decided to try to do a weekly post, complete with To Do list from work. Without further ado, I present you with this week's Case of the Mondays.

To Do:

This morning I woke up to my usual Frank Sinatra ballad and hearing about how I'm just too marvelous for words. I valiantly fought off sleep, and swung my feet over the bed while I rubbed my eyes and wondered how in the world it was Monday already. I had just fought the workweek battle and just barely obtained my weekend reward, and already it was being snatched from me.

I blundered through my morning routine of washing my face, getting partially dressed, putting on makeup, battling my hair, and finishing getting dressed. Apparently DH and the Munchkin were having the same kind of morning because we all stumbled out the door at 8:00. Have I mentioned I'm supposed to be at my desk at 8:00? Oops.

Fifteen minutes after leaving the house, I was tip-toeing past my PM's office door, hoping he wouldn't see I was late. I sat down at my desk, booted up the old computer, and got my morning under way. Before I knew it, it was time for my weekly team meeting. Into the conference room I strode with notebook in hand. The meeting started... and then it kept going... and going... and going. I was so hungry. I hadn't eaten yet. It felt like eons had passed. I wanted to doodle on my notepad, but this meeting is small and intimate, so it would be too obvious I wasn't really listening if I did. Instead, I jotted down the things I really needed to this week. Before I knew it, it was time for my next meeting, and I got to leave my current meeting before it was over.

On my way to the next meeting I snagged a cereal bar from my desk cabinet and glided down the hall with a coworker to the oober fun meeting of the day. The one where Gary, my arch nemesis is supposed to be present. Shortly after I was seated, the fun began. I looked around the conference room, and then quickly began to jot down my other To Do items for the week, such as invest in Fo.cus Fac.tor and avoid Gary.

Gary.

Where was Gary? I stopped doodling to look around. The jerk was no where to be seen. Inside I laughed evilly. It was MY turn to give HIM hell for not being there this week. I wrung my evil hands and thought of how I could ride HIS @$$ for not being there.

Almost as quickly as it began, the meeting was disbanding, and I was free to begin my work week.

Now if only I could concentrate.... I sure could use a bottle of Fo.cus Fac.tor.

Somehow I made it through the day. It helped a great deal that I was able to go to lunch with two of my best friends as well as hit the office supply store when the network my documents are saved on went down and caused my software to crash.

By the end of the day there was only one thing I had forgotten to do: Invest in Fo.cus Fac.tor. Tomorrow is another day.

And yes, the snake in the picture is my depiction of Gary, and I am on the left with a gigantic club....

Awkwaaard

2010-07-25T20:41:00.000-07:00

Tonight I was talking to my dad on Sk.ype and I proudly told him I had gotten my grandmother's (his mother's) ring back from the jeweler. I asked if he wanted to see it, and he said sure, so I pointed the webcam at the Munchkin and ran upstairs to retrieve the ring. I came back and held it up in front of the lens, but the camera was having a hard time focusing on it, so I kept trying it at different angles and distances. I finally told my dad it was about as good as it was going to get, and asked if he could see it well enough. He said he could, and then he said, "That looks like grandma's ring all right."

All of a sudden, I had this sinking and awkward feeling in my stomach.

Me: She wore it for a long time, didn't she?
Dad: Yes, she did.
Me: Is it weird for you to see me with it, and wearing it?

I had never thought about the fact that my wearing my dad's mother's ring could possibly be awkward for him. The ring that his mother wore as she held him tight all those years, soothed him, baked and cooked for him. All of a sudden, it wasn't on her finger anymore, it was on mine.

When I had dropped the ring off to be repaired the first time, I called my dad as I was driving away from the mall to tell him.

Me (excited): So I just dropped grandma's ring off. They are going to fix the bottom and set it with white topaz. I thought the topaz would be significant because of grandma and grandpa living near and mining at Topaz Mountain.
Dad (not upset, but inquisitive): Why would you do that?
Me (bewildered): I told you I was going to when you gave it to me. I thought it would be nice to restore it.
Dad: What are you going to do with it when you get it back?
Me: Wear it. Why? Does that bother you?
Dad: No.

He didn't seem to dislike the idea, so I just figured my dad was being a man, who didn't care much for sentimentality like I do. When I got the ring back the first time, I took a picture with my phone and sent it to him. He never replied, which isn't an indication of anything, he rarely replies to my texts these days because he has Parkinsons, which makes his hands shake, which in turn makes it hard to hit the little keys on the touch screen accurately. I did call him that night, and he said the ring was beautiful.

But even then, I didn't think about my wearing the ring from his perspective. The one of the little boy who had seen his mother wear that ring for many years.

I asked if he was okay with my wearing it, or if it was too weird to him. He assured me he was, and that it wasn't, but I still felt weird. Weird enough to not wear it? No way. That ring is gorgeous, and I just put some time and money into restoring it so that it could be appreciated again for the first time in years. Do you know how much I love showing it off and telling people it was my grandma's engagement/wedding ring?

Honestly, I think my dad really is okay with it. I think it just might have been a jolt initially and might have stirred up some memories for him. But I know he sees the ring the way I do, as something that can be passed down and treasured for generations. His mother lives on with that ring, and I am so honored to wear it and think of her often, and I do.

She's Home

2010-07-24T11:05:00.000-07:00

Here it is, the moment you've all been waiting for. The unveiling of my grandma's engagement ring. She was due back from the jewelers yesterday, and around 2:30, I got the call that she was back and I could come pick her up. It took everything I had to keep from speeding from the office to the jewelry store.

Here she is, in all her renewed glory!

I probably spent more repairing this ring than it is monetarily worth, but I don't care. The sentimental value of it goes way beyond a price tag to me. This is an heirloom that will be passed onto my daughter one day, and then hopefully passed onto her children. The fact that none of my dad's sisters wanted this ring because it was broken and the diamonds had been removed is still gobsmacking to me. It was totally their loss.

This beautiful piece of my grandparent's past has been repaired with a piece of my past, and will now be proudly worn on my finger for years to come. I had it sized so that hopefully when I get pregnant next time around I will be able to wear it when my own wedding ring becomes to small.

It is beautiful and priceless, and am so happy and proud to be its new owner.

Fantastic News!

2010-07-22T19:36:00.001-07:00

If you want to hear how my sonohystrogram went today, check out this post! :D

Sharing a Favorite

2010-07-21T11:22:00.000-07:00

When DH and I first moved to Texas a couple and a half years ago, we visited an art and framing store to find new picture frames for our wedding pictures. They had been in cherry wood frames in our last two places of residence, but the wood scheme of the room they were going into in the new house was maple. While we were looking around, I came across this print by Karen Dupre and instantly fell in love with it.

What is it exactly that I love about this painting? Is it the color scheme? Definitely. I love the browns, golds, and blacks and the way they all just go together. But what I really love is the composition. A million words could not describe what I see and get from this picture.

No matter what era you put this woman in, her clothes and jewelry tell us she is classy, stylish, wealthy. I love her coat, and the way it wraps around her and frames her figure as if it was made just for her. I love the way her black hat comes down over her face that even though you can't see all of it, you know she is beautiful. You know her expression would be one of contentment. She is fulfilled. She hasn't a care in the world, and even if she does, she doesn't care.

Perhaps what I love best is that the title of the painting is, "Time to Shop." The woman in the picture is taking her jaguar shopping with her. The cat is proudly wearing a diamond studded collar that matches his mistresses necklace as he majestically pads down the street next to her. This painting is so artistically done, you would think this was something you would see every day, as if it is a common occurrence to take your pet jaguar shopping with you and no one minds or freaks out at the sight of the massive cat.

This painting just sucks me in. I could stare at it for hours. It is soothing in a way.

While I was looking for the image to upload to this post, I found out that the artist is rather famous. She has many paintings, and there are some I love just as much as this one. There is one in particular that I would like to own, and one day when I purchase it, I will do a post all about it too.

A Case of the Mondays

2010-07-19T12:52:00.001-07:00

To Do:

Oh yes, this is actually my To Do list at work for this week.

I woke up this morning and dragged my groggy butt to work. I didn't get to sleep until around 12:30 last night, as the Munchkin has her second case of daycare-induced pink eye in a week, so I was up soothing a crying toddler a few times during the night.

As soon as my butt met my desk chair this morning, it was all I could do to keep from falling asleep. I reached under my desk and grabbed my last two frappuchinos, cursing that they weren't already cold. With fraps in arm, I grabbed my water cup, hair brush, and straightening iron. That's right, I do my hair at work. I just can't get myself up that extra 10 minutes early to do it at home.

My weekly team meeting had been cancelled, due to my PM being out of the office today, but never fear, an even more boring, gruelling, and long meeting stood ready to take its place. Better yet, that meeting happened to be with one of the three people in this world I can't stand (those three people are Gary [from work - not his real name], BIL, and Crazy Dog Lady - in that order). Gary rode my @$$ all last week because I missed the Monday morning meeting due to my need to be home with a daughter who was sporting pink eye and a fever. I made it a point to give him "The Look" as soon as I sat down. "See you jerk, I'm here. Eat that."

As the meeting coordinator droned on, it was all I could do to stay awake. I was so glad I had gone to Ein.stiens and grabbed bagels for J and I before I got sucked into the meeting void. All I could think about was how I was going to make it through the day. To help keep myself conscious, I tried to think of funny things. The first thing that came to mind is the new Kr.aft Mac-N-Cheese commercial that makes me laugh my butt off every time I see it.

The commercial is set at a modern family Independence Day-type party setting where Thomas Jefferson is present. The hostess asks Thomas to taste her mac-n-cheese. He does and then proceeds to throw a fit, claiming she stole his recipe. He stomps over to a table covered in food dishes with a bunch of balloons tethered to it, and in a he rage pops one of the balloons with a fork and then kicks over the table. Its hilarious. I couldn't find it on yo.utube, or I'd point you in the right direction.

That commercial is the reason not stealing Thomas Jefferson's recipe is on my To Do list. It is currently a work in progress. Happily, however, I was able to check off the items: Make it to lunch; and Get through Monday. That's about all I was able to check off though. Oh well, at least I made it!

Look!

2010-07-13T09:27:00.000-07:00

Look what my husband and I saw in our front yard this morning as we were heading to work. Okay, he wasn't IN our front yard, but he was in the grassy, green open space next to our yard. DH tried to get some pictures of him, but he was far enough away they didn't turn out that great.

Can you tell what he is? No? Look at this one then.

Still no? Then here, look at this one!

Yeah, that's a coyote. IN MY FRONT YARD!!!!

I was so glad the dogs were inside for the day. I have heard that coyotes roam these parts, and a coworker has encountered them face-to-face when he was out walking his dog at night once, but this is the first time I have seen one not in a zoo setting, and it was right by my house!

He was cute and all, but he had better stay the deuce away from my baby, dogs, and yard. Otherwise he won't think I am so cute.

I kind of felt bad for him cause the guy obviously had some serious flea issues. I wished he was friendly so I could take care of him, but I know better.

Just stay away little dude. Let's admire each other from a distance, okay?

I have now come across a bobcat and a coyote near my house, and I don't live in the woods people!

Ring-a-Ding

2010-07-12T19:16:00.000-07:00

So if you missed (or chose not to read) my (long) post below, I will give you a quick back story as to what is going on with my grandma's ring.

Blah blah blah, the jeweler sucked and lied to me, blah blah blah, I didn't get what I expected or was told I was getting, blah blah blah, I got mad and took my business elsewhere.

Somewhere in between all of the blah, blah, blahs above, the jeweler did not repair my ring by reshanking it (i.e., making the band the same thickness all of the way around), so when I got it back they had only soldered the bottom of the ring together where it had worn thin and broke, instead of reshanking it, which is what they told me they would do.

Rather than be really freaking upset that they didn't do what they said, I looked for a low-cost solution, which happened to be in my cedar chest in the form of a promise ring from my high school sweetheart, and my first love. I said to myself, says I, "What better purpose for that silly gold band than to repair my grandma's engagement ring!" By jove! Two very special and important rings coming together as one!

Friday afternoon I decided I was done with the mom and pop ring shops. That company really screwed everyone else over who doesn't operate under a big name. I ended up calling Za.les and asking them how much it would cost to use one ring to save the other. The quote was almost twice as high as the mom and pop shop, but I didn't care. Sometimes it is just worth it to pay a little more and get exactly what you expect and get treated with respect in the meantime.

Tonight my ring is on its way to be repaired. By Friday I will know if one part of my life can be used to save a part of my grandparent's life. Two things that were already precious in their own right will be joined together to become even more sentimental and precious.

One day, that ring will be passed on to my daughter, who was there to witness the handing over of the rings today.

The PMS Avenger

2010-07-08T18:55:00.001-07:00

Have you ever had those weeks where you feel like you are the PMS Avenger? I am in one right now, and I am begging to take this cape off and pass it onto the next gal because I have had enough! I am so tired of the need to boil over just to get what is right and fair. I am tired of feeling like each day this week has been given to me in a giant suppository format. I really want this week to end.

Remember how I told you all I was getting my grandma's ring repaired? Well I took it in 3 weeks ago and told them exactly what I wanted. The bottom of the band had been worn thin, and so had broken. All of the stones had been removed and put into a new ring. I asked the guy (known as batman from here on out) if he could not only repair the bottom, but if he could also make it the same thickness as the rest of the ring, to which he said they could. So he wrote up the bill, I paid, and handed over the ring. He told me it would be back in a week.

A week later I excitedly went to get my ring. I couldn't wait to see it! I got there only to be informed it was not back yet, but that they would have batman call their jeweler and call me back. He never called me back. This same scenario was repeated two more times over the next week, making my ring TWO weeks late. Three times I was told batman would call me, and he never did.

Over this past weekend I decided I would march in there first thing Tuesday morning and demand my money and ring back. I was so angry. But when I got to work that day, I saw I had missed a call. The message was 7 seconds long (no joke). It was batman telling me my ring was back. So I excitedly jumped in the car and went to get it.

When it was unwrapped from the tissue paper and handed to me I was so amazed. It was gorgeous! It turned out so beautiful, and it gleamed like a whole new ring. I put it on and left the store, but just outside the door I looked at the bottom of the band. It had not been made to match the thickness of the rest of the band. It was just as skimpy as when I took it in.

I was fuming, and I knew I had better walk away rather than go back because I knew I would say things I would regret. That and I am not confrontational. After I got back to work and showed J, she got me all riled up and I called the jeweler to tell them I wasn't happy.

Guess what I was told? He said he would leave batman a message, who wasn't working that day, and he would call me back the next day. All of a sudden, I grew a pair. I told him I had been told that three times before and batman never called back. I told him I was extremely unhappy with my experience because of that and the fact that it had taken 3 times as long as they said it would. He told me I would have to take it up with batman. What a spineless moron.

I went into the store the next day the second they opened and demanded batman tell me what exactly I paid for. He told me he thought I only wanted to repair the bottom of the ring. I shoved it in his face and said, "Look at this! This is so flimsy it is going to break again in 5 minutes. Why would I ask you to only solder it together? What good is that to me? I can't wear this!" The jerk actually told me that if I wanted to make the bottom the same thickness as the rest of the ring it would cost me more. Freaking up yours batman!

The upside to this story is I have a gold band from the first guy I ever loved. We bought one for each other just before we graduated from high school as promise rings. It has sat unused and mostly unseen in my cedar chest since we broke up 13 years ago. What better purpose for it than to repair my grandma's ring?! How cool is it that the ring from my first love is going to be put together with the ring from my grandma's one true love? (No, DH has no idea where my gold band came from and never will.)

As if all of that wasn't bad enough, I had to fight with my insurance company the next day over the fact that they have not been applying my payments to my out-of-pocket correctly or for the correct amounts. They are hundreds of dollars off, in their favor of course. So I have more than met my requirements for the year, yet they choose to ignore hundreds of dollars I have already paid so that I can keep helping them pay their share.

Insurance lady, if you took my call this week, I'm sorry my husband ripped you a new one.

THEN, I got an email from my BIL today. (For those of you new to the blog, the B does not stand for "brother." Feel free to insert the B expletive of your choice.) We haven't talked in 5 months, and she sends me the nastiest email about my other blog and something she took out of context so that she could use it against me. I replied and ripped her a new one, and then I ripped her another new one, and then I ripped her another new one, and then I hit "Send."

I spent all day fighting with her, which always gets my blood absolutely boiling. Then at the end of it we decided to put all of it behind us and move on, so I apologized for my part... she didn't. Rather, she turned it around and tried to make it sound like I should have apologized... for ALL of it. When I pointed out the fact that her email was in fact meant the way she said it and prompted her for an apology, she simply said, "Let's just put this behind us, OK?"

I DON'T THINK SO!!!

I emailed her just before I started writing this blog post and told her she owed me an apology, and that if she wanted to put all of this behind us, she had to show me some respect by doing so first. I'm not her stinking door mat. She can't manipulate me into thinking she didn't owe me an apology.

At any rate, I am exhausted from all of my PMS avenging this week, and I just want it to be over. I seriously can't wait to see what waits for me tomorrow. If I have to wear this cape again, I will, but beware if you are the one facing my wrath!

Spoiled

2010-07-02T21:09:00.001-07:00

First of all I want to say I have every intention of catching up on every post I have missed from Jill in her recent series of posts. I will be doing that this weekend, and then commenting like crazy. Just know that is coming up and that I haven't forgotten you Jill!

Lately the Munchkin and I have been getting spoiled, and we're both loving it.

Today I went for my first ever pedicure. That's right, I'm 31 and have never had a pedi before. Don't ask me how that is possible. I've only ever had one manicure in my life before too. I guess I would rather squander my money on other things like peanut butter M&M.s, music, food, or something else stupid. *insert big stupid grin* I do have to say I really enjoyed the pedi and being pampered. I went with my friend J who was going to get her nails done. Since she was going to be a while (she was getting a new full set), I opted for the "Deluxe" pedi. That's the one where they rub your legs down and put your feet in paraffin. It was pretty dang sweet. At the end of it they painted my toe nails, and for $5 extra I had them paint a design on my big toes, which turned out awesome. I really enjoyed the experience, but at the end of the day, I can't say it was completely worth the price. It was great for a one-time thing, and for an intro to pedi's, but I think next time I will opt for the less expensive option.

When I told DH I was going for a pedi with J, he told me it was a good thing my new allowance started on Wednesday of this week, rather than Monday, which is how it will be going forward. I laughed and said, yep, it was a good thing. I think he was relieved when I got home and said I wouldn't be getting pedi's very often. Honestly, I have a massage membership to Ma.ssage. E.vy, and I would rather spend my money getting a full body rub down. Speaking of which, I really need to go use my free massages. I think I have about 9 or 10 now. :D

As for the Munchkin, a friend of ours from church gave us a free toddler Pl.ay Sc.hool slide and picnic table. The guy has four daughters, and the youngest is around 4 or 5, so needless to say, they have all outgrown toddler playground equipment. We were more than happy to take it off his hands, and the Munchkin LOVES it. In the past week she has gotten a pool, a tree swing, a toddler slide, and a toddler picnic table. She might be too young to know what it feels like to be spoiled, but her mama sure feels it for her.

I took pictures this week of her and I in our pool and Sadie dog in her pool, as well as pictures of the Munchkin playing on her new playground equipment, but I can't find the stupid camera cable to download the pictures. Grrr! I took pictures just for you gals! I'll have to find it this weekend and upload them later.

Hopefully my sweet blog friend Hannah will be spoiled too and receive a BFP soon. She had two embies transfered this past Thursday. If you can spare a minute, hope over to her blog and send her some love and prayers as she battles the angst of the dreaded TWW.

I hope those of you in the US have a safe and happy Independence Day this Sunday. Be sure to exercise caution and safety when lighting fireworks, and always remember to point the tanks that shoot firecrackers away from your face. :p

The New Regime

2010-06-30T13:39:00.001-07:00

Today a little piece of me died. Ever since I got my first job at the age of 14 all of my earnings have been mine. Of course as I got older and got better jobs, my take home pay went from a few bucks to quite a few bucks. Long gone were the days where a check of just under $300 was a lot of money that made my eyes bug out.

I am a spender. Big time spender. If I have $5, I wonder what I can buy. Money doesn't burn holes in my pockets anymore because my pockets were burned out a long time ago.

My husband is a saver. He is so frugal sometimes it is annoying. Remember the shoes? I mean, he won't even let me go buy cheap Tera cotta pots for a project without doing price comparisons. I kid you not. The pots that cost anywhere from .89 cents to $1.30.

They say a lot of contention in marriages is caused over money, so when we got married we dodged that bullet by keeping our finances separate and dividing expenses and household chores. He paid the bills, I cleaned and cooked all while getting to spend my money however I wanted.

Then we moved to Texas and had a baby. For some reason those two things caused my spending to get out of control. Not like crazy mortgage the house out of control, but enough for me to think something had to change. The more I tried to keep things in check, the more I spent. I am a total spendaholic. Buying things gives me a thrill. Even if its a pack of cheese. Sad, I know.

Finally one day I asked Hubs to take over my finances because I obviously couldn't do it on my own. He asked for my credit cards and told me to have my paychecks deposited into our joint savings. He would take over paying my bills using my money, and giving me an allowance every week. At first I cried. I sobbed. I felt like a piece of me was dying, but I was doing this for the greater good. I don't want my daughter to learn how to spend like I do. I want her to learn to be responsible like her dad. This was the best way I could teach her that. After I had a good cry, I was ready to start our new joint system.

Today, my husband and I officially combined incomes into one bank account. It is the beginning of a new regime. I hope this works because there is no going back now! I feel like it is the most responsible thing I can do.

Luckily I bought this sweet little thing before I handed over my money. Take a gander at that! Oh yeah, that's right, I have a "hick" pool, and it sits proudly next to the dogs' pool. Jealous?

Okay, you can stop rolling on the floor laughing. Its a pool, and it feels great on a hot day. That's all I need.

DH was actually on board with this purchase, so I didn't really sneak one under the gate, but its fun to think I did.

In other fun news, I got laser hair removal today! The only downside, you need about six treatments for complete hair removal spaced at 6-8 weeks apart. In 8 weeks we will be trying to get pregnant, which means I may only get two treatments before I have to stop, but DH prepaid for six. Thankfully he bought them all on a serious deal, so it won't be a huge loss, but a bummer none the less. I just hope I see some improvement before I have to stop. I guess if we lose the rest of our money on that one it will be worth it because it means something better happened. :)

The Munchkin

2010-06-26T22:22:00.000-07:00

This is going to be a short post, as it is 12:30 a.m. once again (what is it with me at being on here at 12:30? Good grief!), but I made a promise to the ever so sweet and lovely Hannah in my last post.

Last Friday I went out to get the mail, completely oblivious to what awaited me on the other side of the little metal door. When I opened it, I saw a package inside. I figured it must be for DH, as I hadn't ordered anything. Upon inspection, I realized the package was for me, and it was from Hannah!

When I opened the envelope, I found this super adorable outfit in it for the Munchkin, along with a hand blown glass angel, and a sweet card.

I wanted to put the Munchkin in the outfit right away, but decided to wait for a full day when I had her home with me, which was this past Thursday. I totally enjoyed watching her romp around in this super cute outfit, and I thought of Hannah all day.

Thank you so much for the sweet, thoughtful gift Hannah! I enjoy it more than I can say, especially because it came from you.

I wish you all the very best on your current cycle. I pray that God blesses you with a baby. You and Steve will make fantastic parents, and I long to shower you with gifts too.

I've got my fingers crossed, and as I did for Fran, I'll braid my dog's hair if it gives you that little bit of extra luck that you need for this cycle to take. :)

A-OK

2010-06-24T12:32:00.000-07:00

Hey friends! I can't stick around long. I've got the baby home with me for my last day off work, and she is demanding attention. We're going to head to Targae in a bit to go get some of those new pretzel M&M s.

Anyway, I have a great post coming up later tonight, but I just wanted to let everyone know I did call the doctor and left him a message. He called his assistant and she called me to schedule an appointment for Tuesday. I asked her if she thought I needed to get in to see my OB, and she said if I was bleeding a lot, then I should, but if it is just a little or only spotting, then I should be fine.

Well, true to murphey's law, the spotting and bleeding completely stopped after I made the initial phone call. Go figure.

I'll keep my appt for Tuesday just in case I need it, and I'll do half days at work until then.

I will be catching up on blogs tonight before bed. Fran I hope you have some awesome news! The dogs were braided! And Hannah, I have some pictures for you! :D

TTYL

Maybe Nothing

2010-06-22T22:28:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure why I am even blogging about this because it is probably nothing. I guess I'm just putting it out there because I'm not sleepy yet, even though it is 12:30 a.m. again, and because it is on my mind.

I think something isn't right. It could be nothing, but I am still concerned. I had bright red blood today, and I can tell you, it isn't due to AF. No friends, she came and went last week. I am on about CD12, and am not due to ovulate for another week. On top of that, I feel pain at the top of my uterus, which is exactly where the surgery was performed. I also have cramping, but that could be caused by the blood irritating my uterus.

I called my doctor yesterday to give him a rundown of how I was feeling and asked if he thought I was ready to go back to work this Friday, which was before all of this bleeding and cramping started. It turns out he is in Orlando on vacation with his family, but this man is so devoted to his job he called me back. He was not put out at all. He's seriously a great doctor. He told me he thought I would be fine to go back to work and walked through my symptoms with me, helping me understand each one. He then told me that if anything came up, I was to call him straight away. He had already called my OB (the one who referred me to him) and told her that I am to call him first and then get into see her if anything comes up. I didn't think that would be necessary until tonight.

~~TMI Alert!~~

Before we hung up, he asked if I had been constipated (I know, chuckle away; I am). I told him not until the last day or so. He told me that is common with the type of surgery I had, and to be sure I was taking medication to help with that, so last night I took my "helper" pills. This morning it took a little effort on my part, but I finally dislodged the enemy. That is when the red bleeding began.

I have had slight spotting the last few days even without the constipation, and I will be honest, I've been concerned about it, but didn't think it was enough to call the doctor over. Then last night when I was trying to sleep, I had menstrual-like cramps, which concerned me. Then today I got the bright red blood. My first thought was to wait it out and see if it had to do with my, er, "episode", but by the time evening rolled around, there was still enough spotting to concern me. Add that to the fact that all day I have had the constant pain at the top of my uterus.

Here's the thing, my doctor is on vacation. I know he doesn't mind me calling him, but I hate to be that person, you know? I don't want to be the Nervous Nelly who calls every other day for nothing. It COULD just be from my pushing too hard, but even then, is that normal? Should that cause me to bleed 3.5 weeks post-surgery still? Maybe. But do I call my doctor again to ask him? I want to just go to my OB, but he already called her and told her I was to talk to him first before going to see her if anything came up, but I don't want to disturb him. What would you do? Would you call him, then the OB? Would you just call the OB first? Would you wait it out another day? I just don't know what to do.

I told DH about what was going on, and he thinks I should call the doctor. I probably will, but right out of the gate I feel like an idiot because I know it is probably nothing. I guess my doc needs to know though, right? I mean, what if it IS something, and what if he wants me to get in to see my OB just in case?

Fine. I'll call him in the morning. Thanks for listening and walking me through this. You gals are the best!

Man

2010-06-21T22:31:00.000-07:00

No, not that kind of man, but the kind where you sigh and say, "Man, that was crazy," or "Man, what a day." Do you gals every go through periods where your blogging just lags and you don't know why? I thought for sure my mojo would return in full force after the surgery, but it just hasn't. I haven't participated in ICLW for the last two months, partly because I already follow so many blogs I just don't have the time to go reading new ones on top of trying to keep up with the ones I already read. That and every time I do ICLW, I add new blogs to my reader, as if I don't already follow enough.

Right now it is 12:30 a.m., and I am a few short days away from going back to work. Somehow the past three weeks have slipped through my fingers and I haven't managed to blog anywhere near as much as I thought I would. Partly because trying to keep up with everyone has gotten to feeling overwhelming. I still need to figure out a system. Maybe I will write blog posts one night and read blogs the next. Maybe I just won't be able to do it all and need to give myself the grace to realize I can only do what I can do. Sure I want to keep up with everyone, but the bottom line is, sometimes it is just too much.

*sigh*

On the other hand, I know there will be a point where I get my mojo back, and I will blog my butt off. Read. Write. Comment. That day just isn't today.

I think most bloggers slow down during the summer. I know I did last year at this time. Its like we feel like because there are more hours of sunlight in the day that we need to be out enjoying them, and we do. I think blogs take a back seat a lot during these months. Then when fall rolls around, the days get shorter, and the temperatures drop, we look forward to the warmth of a computer and a good blog read.

Friends, please know that even if I don't read and comment on every single blog post, it doesn't mean I'm not thinking about you. None of you are ever very far from my thoughts, heart, and prayers. I talk about you all often, and I have my friends thinking of and praying for you on your respective journeys. You are all a very big part of my life and I care very much for all of you. Remember, I am always thinking of you, and I mean that.

Sending you all warm wishes, loads of love, hugs, and prayers!

Knowing When Its Time

2010-06-20T21:38:00.001-07:00

Before my surgery I knew that there would come a point where I would have an inner emotional melt down. Surgery and I don't always do well together, and at some point I get frustrated with the limitations of my healing body. When this happens, I tend to get a little depressed. Today was that day.

Last night I lay in bed as a virus ravaged my body, causing me to have one of the worst night's sleep of my life, and I contemplated asking my doctor to give me another week off work. In between wake and sleep, I practiced what I would tell my doctor to convince him I needed more time to heal, as well as how I would tell my boss I wouldn't be back in on Friday.

There is a part of me that wants that week to just lay around and do nothing or get caught up on things around the house, but there is an equal part of me that just doesn't think my body is ready to go back to work and sit in a chair for 45 hours a week. I can't go on long walks yet. I am currently walking about a quarter of what I normally do, and even that is stretching it. By the time I decide to turn around, it is because I am uncomfortable. I am not back to going grocery shopping for long periods of time. Driving is still not very comfortable, especially where the lap belt sits right across all of my incisions.

Sometime this afternoon, my emotional meltdown started (of course it could be due in part to the fact that I was sick as a dog yesterday). I wanted to curl up in a ball and forget that time was marching forward. I wanted life to just pause until I was ready to hit the play button. Who knows when that would be? It made me sick. I wasn't ready to go back to work and face the drudgery of every day again, yet I could tell if I was feeling that way about life, it was time to get back to work. If you're going to do it, you might as well do it both feet first, right?

I talked to DH and my dad and told them how I was feeling. They both agreed that the best thing for me to do is to go back to work on Friday and see how it goes. Maybe I won't even be able to make it through a full day. Maybe I will have to put in half days for the next week. But if I am fighting off the post-surgical emotional battle I knew I would, then it is time to get life back on track. That is the only way to get through this.

Sometimes the toughest situations in life are the ones you have to force yourself into doing because you know you have to, even though you don't want to. Sometimes doing what is best for yourself isn't always the easiest thing to face. The most important thing is having the strength to realize what you need to do and doing it.

Honestly, I'm kind of glad for this emotional battle because it gears me up for getting life back on track. I have a few days to rev myself up, and by the time Friday gets here, I'll be ready.

Let's Do It!

2010-06-16T21:36:00.000-07:00

My husband rarely spends money, and when he does he has to research the crap out of it and then ruminate over it for a few weeks. When we got married he came with a nice pair of leather Oa.kley flip flops that he wore every where. When we moved to Texas and he started mowing our massive back yard filled with dog crap (insert sheepish grin here, as I am supposed to be the pooper scooper for my dogs), the shoes started to be left outside and worn less and less. Eventually they just stayed outside by the back door, only to be worn when mowing the lawn riddled with land mines.

For the last few months (read: year) all I have heard is him complain about how he used to have such nice flip flops, but that they weren't nice anymore because they had been left outside because they had dog poo on them at some point. I kept asking him if he wanted me to buy him new ones, and his answer was always no because he didn't think it was possible to find any as nice or that he would like the way he liked those ever again. *eye roll*

Two weekends before my surgery we got a baby sitter and went out for the night. We went to the outlet mall just to look around for fun when he came across a shoe store sporting many varieties of leather flip flops. He tried on a dozen or so pair, and then walked out, empty handed. It seriously annoyed me to no end because I knew it would not be the end of his lamenting the loss of his old flip flops.

To him, making a $40 purchase on flip flops is a big deal and must be thought over for weeks, if not months before purchasing. Its annoying. THEY ARE SHOES!!! Just buy the stupid things!

To finally get to the point of this story, DH told me last week that he wanted to ask me to buy something for him, but he felt that because I am a shopaholic, it was like asking an alcoholic to go to the liquor store for a bottle of wine. I told him I would love to buy something for him, and it was perfect because I would get to spend money and it was on something he needed, so he told me he had finally decided to buy flip flops, and asked if I would go get them for him.

Yesterday I went to the outlet mall after picking up the Munchkin early from daycare, and together we strolled around the mall. Okay, I didn't mean to stroll around the whole mall, but I forgot which end the shoe store was on, and upon looking at the directory, I discovered I was on the exact opposite corner. Its a talent I have apparently. Off we set, on a quest to buy flip flops for dad.

On our way around the mall, I stopped in a jewelry store to ask if my grandma's ring could even be repaired. I was told it could, and to bring it in for an estimate. I wasn't sure if I had any intention of going back there or not, but thought I would keep it in mind.

When we got to the shoe store, the shoes only came in full sizes, so DH and I guessed at what size he needed. When I got them home, he decided he needed the next bigger size, so I would have to take them back and trade them in. Yes, the wheels in my head were turning. He wanted the shoes, and I wanted my ring.

Today I dropped the Munchkin off at daycare and headed to the mall to make the great shoe exchange, with my grandma's ring securely tucked away in a box in my purse. The first place I went was the jewelry store because it was nearest the entrance I came in. I fully expected the repairs and stones to cost a few hundred dollars. I was flabbergasted when the quote came back at less than half what I had estimated. It took me a split second to decide. "Let's do it!" are the words that flew out of my mouth. Before I knew it my card had been swiped, paperwork filled out, and a receipt exchanged. My ring would be ready in a week.

I was so excited... until I walked out of the store and realized my husband would be mad I not only spent money, but so much money, and that he might further be more upset because I told him for Christmas I wanted him to repair the ring. Then I got a text from him, "What are you up to this morning?" Its like he knew I had just spent money! I texted him back, "You're going to be mad at me. Just remember how much you love me." His reply, "How much did you spend?" I called him to tell him what I had done, and that I was remorseful. I asked if he was mad and he said, "No, I'm not mad. This is something you have been wanting to do and it is special to you. You didn't just blow the money on useless crap like you usually do."

The heavens opened and the angels sang! I wasn't in trouble!

In a week's time, I will have a precious heirloom back in my possession, and I can't wait. I can't wait to see how beautiful it turns out, and then to wear it. I am even more excited that DH isn't mad at me for going ahead with it. Now I just hope that my grandma is happy with it. :)

The Boring Blogger

2010-06-15T21:59:00.000-07:00

Dear blog friends, I am sorry for being such a boring blogger lately. I just haven't had much to write about. I mean, all I do every day is lay around on my backside and heal. Boring!

Last week I was kind of crazy though and went on a cleaning rampage around my house. It needed a good, deep clean, and I took this time off as an opportunity to both clean my house and overdo it after my surgery. I'm not sure if all I have done the last 4 or so days is sleep because I'm tired from overdoing it last week, or if it is because I'm bored. Seriously though, all I want to do is sleep.

Don't get me wrong, I am enjoying each and every single second of this recovery and the opportunity it has afforded me to slow down a bit. I think I will be back to work before I am really truly ready. But then again, are we ever ready? Not only that, but I know that the chances of me having time off like this from work again are not very likely. Next time I have uterine surgery, it had better be to deliver a full-term baby! Even then, I won't be lounging around with nothing to do but sleep. So, as I said, I am enjoying it.

I actually have a few things I could and should still be working on while I have so much free time, like the curtains I have been trying to put together for the last few months. But for some reason, I lack the motivation to do that right now. I still have another week before going back to work, and I know that if I tell myself now I will get them done by the end of this week, they will get done, so that will be my goal -- to get the curtains done by the end of the week.

When I went home to see my parents last month, my dad gave me a bunch of my grandma's old jewelry that his sisters didn't want. Upon looking through it, I noticed a common theme: it was all broken. My dad offered it to my sister first, as she makes jewelry for a living, but she declined, so I took it and told my dad I would repurpose it myself. In that bag of beat down necklaces, I found a ring. I pulled it out and tried it on. It was broken and the stones had been removed. My dad told me it was my grandma's engagement ring. I was gobsmacked, why hadn't his sisters wanted that? It is easy enough to fix. Who cares why they didn't? I was all over taking it off their hands.

I plan on taking my grandma's ring to a couple of jewelers tomorrow to get estimates on how much it will cost to repair it. I can't afford to have diamonds set back in it, but my grandparents lived near a mountain that has abundant topaz. They used to go out there and mine topaz just for fun. I decided that clear topaz is just as pretty as diamonds, and it has meaning to me, especially for the ring, because of it's history with my grandparents.

The thought of having that ring repaired is so exciting to me. I have told DH that that is what I want for Christmas. Depending on how much it will cost to repair it, I might tell him I want it for our anniversary instead.

In closing I wanted to point out that I changed my profile picture for something a little cuter. I can tell you, that is pretty much how I feel these days. Speaking of which, its bed time, so I'm outta here.

Living In The Moment

2010-06-11T21:02:00.000-07:00

Living in the moment has not always been easy for me, as I am sure is the case with most people. When I was younger, I had a hard time giving up the past. I didn't want to grow up when I was a child, and became depressed when I went into middle school because I wasn't ready to be an adult. Sometime after I graduated from high school, I was constantly living in the future, wishing my life away. I was always trying to get to the better things in life that were just around the bend. I couldn't wait to graduate from college, start a professional job, get married, start a family, get through each month of treatments to see if I would get a BFP, get through each week of pregnancy so that I was that much more pregnant, start trying for another baby, passing a year without being able to try, and getting my surgery over with.

Over the past 16 months though, I have really started to learn how to live in the moment. For the first time, I want each moment to pause, to last a little bit longer so I can savor it, hold it in my hand, and cherish it.

When my daughter was born and I went through PPD, I had the hardest time with each second that passed. Every minute that went by was painful. I was so afraid that if I went to sleep, I would wake up the next morning, and my daughter would be 16. I was honest to God afraid that would happen. That I would miss her entire life in the blink of an eye. As a result, I couldn't and wouldn't sleep, which made the PPD worse. The inability to sleep due to excessive worry is apparently one of the big signs of PPD.

I was caught between feeling each moment painfully pass by and the strong, painful desire to be pregnant again. I couldn't have both. Either I wanted time to stand still, or I wanted it to pass in the blink of an eye. Which was it? That just made everything even harder.

After I finally sought help for my PPD, I started to learn to live in the moment, while being able to be appreciative of my past and hopeful for my future. I didn't want to wish away one second of the Munchkin's life, which meant I had to realize that eventually the future would be on my doorstep, and I would be pregnant with a sibling (so I hope) soon enough. In the meantime, I enjoyed being with the baby I fought so hard to bring into this world. I cherish each and every second I am with her. I do wish time would slow down so this could last a little bit longer, but that is okay because I am living in the present.

The only part of my life that I wish away anymore is when I'm at work (let's be honest, who doesn't?), but it is only because I want to get to the good part of my day -- being with my family.

Life is for living, and we can't do that if we can't let go of the past and if we can't focus on anything but the future. It is okay reminisce about the old days, and it is okay to be excited and hopeful for the future, as long as we remember to live in the moment.

Updates Galore

2010-06-10T20:46:00.000-07:00

Okay, so there aren't that many updates, but there are a couple. First up, I went and saw my RE today for my post surgery follow-up. It was an awesome appointment, and one that left me giddy all day. For those awesome details, visit this post.

Thank you to everyone for your advice on the FB ordeal. It was really fun to read all of your responses. I got a good chuckle out of it. In the end, I went ahead and friended her. Like most of you suggested, I will probably unfriend her later. *evil laugh* She can snoop, see how fantastic my life is, and then be done. I mean, I kind of enjoyed doing the same with her. I can say, she has apparently turned into quite the artist. I wish I was able to express my creativity with paint the way she does. I'm quite envious. I am also a little surprised that she isn't married. When I knew her previously she was slightly overweight, but she was still an above average looking girl. Now she is quite pretty and thin. Maybe I'll send her a message and say hello again. Like you all said, I have no idea what was going on in her life a couple of years ago, and maybe seeing my life was a sore spot for her. She probably saw me happy and married, all the while ignorant to what my life really was, as I was in the thick of infertility treatments. The grass is always greener, eh?

As for my BIL, we haven't been in contact since before the Munchkin's birthday in February. She did call my husband a couple of weeks ago and ripped him a new one about the fact that her dad had more pictures than I ever gave her, and that he had recent ones. Had I known she was yelling at him about that, I would have taken the phone and given her Cain for it. I still stand firm, if she wants to be a part of my family, she needs to apologize and be sincere about it, not call and rip my husband a new one for things that go on between her and I.

I did ask DH after that phone call if he wanted me to send her pictures and cards. He told me that if he thought she needed those things, he would send them, so the fact that he hadn't meant he agreed with me. That made me feel better. Since his grandpa died, he has been sticking up for his mom a bit more, so I wanted to make sure it was okay if I kept my end of the deal with her.

Anyway, I have much better things going on in my life, and I am really focused on them and moving forward. I have a great idea for a post, and I am excited to write it up after this one. :D

Ahhh, Facebook

2010-06-08T22:28:00.001-07:00

All right girls, I need some catty advice.

How is that for a juicy intro? lol

Back when I was a sophomore in college I played trumpet with this other gal, we'll call her Sandy. I never really had feelings either way for her, but if asked, I would say I liked her all right. She was definitely a superior trumpet player, and I respected her skill with the brass. However, when it came to guys, I was definitely the superior player.

At one point or another, we both liked the same guy, but not at the same time, mind you. I let her crush run its course, and then I briefly tried my hand, and I do mean briefly. Partly because my attention span was so fickle when it came to guys. If things didn't move fast enough for me, I was on to the next crush within weeks. I didn't waste time on a lost cause. ;) I think part of that side of me bothered her too. I dated a lot, and she didn't date much at all.

Regardless, I never had a beef with her.

A couple years back, another trumpetess friend of ours, whom I still remain in contact with to this day, told me she had found Sandy on MySpace and suggested I add her as a friend, so I did. I went out and found her and wrote her an email, asking her what she had been up to, commented on her pictures, and told her a wee bit about where my life had gone since we last saw each other.

She never replied, and she never accepted my friend request.

"Maybe she never got on MS," you say. Well, if you have been on MS, you know that it lets the world know the last time you logged on.

She logged on almost daily.

She was choosing to ignore me.

Months went by, and I finally revoked my request. I really didn't care. Obviously I had done something, unbeknownst to me, in our past that made her dislike me and not want to be in touch with me. No biggie.

Well, a couple of weeks ago while I was at work, I got a friend request from her on FB. When I saw it, I sat back and chuckled. Seriously? Why did she want to be my friend now? Why had she ignored me a couple of years back when I wrote her that nice email?

I IMed one of my best friends, gave her the back story, and promptly told her I had no intention of "friending" Sandy. J told me that is exactly what she would do too. Let her hang out there without a reply. So I did.

Then tonight I was on FB and saw her request again while approving another friend. I told DH about it, and that I had no intention of accepting her request. He told me to stop being a b**** and approve her, that two wrongs didn't make a right (no, but two lefts do!).

So I am going to ask all of you, if you were in this position, would you approve her request, or would you feel like letting her hang out there until she revokes the request? Decisions, decisions....

My Friend

2010-06-07T20:49:00.000-07:00

I would post about this on my primary blog, but as with most things on this blog, I don't want people IRL reading it. This time it is not about me, but one of my best friends. She has entrusted me with a secret, and she doesn't want people to know just yet what is going on. I do want to talk about it, especially in this community, but I need to do so in such a way that no one in our real lives will find it, figure out who I am talking about, and ask her about it.

One of my very dear best friends has recently been diagnosed with MFI. She kind of knew things were up last year when she went of BCP and TTC for a few months with no success. Of course, knowing an infertile always strikes fear in those who are just starting to try and go even 3 months without a BFP. So one day she texted me and asked for the name of my doctor. My heart fell. To be honest, I knew she would have trouble TTC from the moment I met her. (Remember how Ross said I have a bit of a gift myself? I always knew I did, even before he said that.) I had hoped my intuition was wrong, but it wasn't.

That night I went over to her house, ready to let her know what she could expect and to give her a bit of insight into the hell she was walking into. She was instantly on information overload, as we all are when we first embark on this hellish journey. I told her that I was always here for her, and if she ever felt like her head was spinning, to let me know. Ever since then, I have been on her journey with her.

It is so bitter sweet. It is so hard to watch someone I care so very much about go through what I did, knowing full well the repercussions it CAN have on a person's life. But I found comfort in that like me, she is a very positive person, and she refused to let this defeat her. It is sweet because I can be here for and with her every step of the way. She isn't alone like I was. I know it helps her a great deal. I am so glad that everything I went through can now help me help someone I love.

As soon as they were given a diagnosis of MFI, I gave her a copy of Con.cieve magazine that I had picked up while waiting for my sonohystrogram back in February. In it there was an article about IVF clinics around the world that provided services in better clinics than in the US and for a lot less money. One clinic it cited is in Turkey. The package includes the procedure, accommodations, transportation, and medication for $8k. All you have to pay for additionally is airline tickets and food. When DH and I read that, we decided we would go that route if we ever had to do IVF, so we took the magazine. But once my friend said she was looking into IVF, I gave her the magazine.

Their flight is booked for July 10th.

I am so incredibly excited for her. I am so glad I am able to be here for her, to cheer her on, and to make sure she doesn't lose hope.

One night we went on a walk, and I told her about how Ross said I had a gift. She said she knew I did. I told her that I had a really good feeling this IVF was going to work for her. I said I knew it from the moment I gave her the magazine. She said she felt it too. We both cried and hugged for a bit.

Please God, let my intuition be right this time too. My friend will make an awesome mother, and her husband will make an incredible father. You put these two fantastic people on earth to bless the lives of everyone they touch. Help them continue that blessing by providing them with children, children they will raise to be just as wonderful, caring, and compassionate as they are.

I know we all have many women in our lives in this same situation who need our prayers, but if you could, please remember my dear friend in them.

Part 3 - The Letter

2010-06-05T11:15:00.000-07:00

~-~The Letter~-~

Dear MIL,

Ever since before I met you, I have wanted to tell you what has been on my mind about my husband's past, his childhood, and the role you played in it.

You constantly tell me that you were a good mother, and that you don't know why your son dislikes you so much. You wonder why he doesn't send you cards or call for your birthday or mother's day. You don't understand why he wants nothing to do with you. Well today, I am going to tell you.

I want to start out by saying that a good mother is not someone who willingly buys her underage children booze, porn, cigarettes, or lets their girlfriend sleep over while lying to her parents. If you think that is what constitutes a good mother, it is no wonder you think you earned that badge. But that is not, by any stretch of the imagination, what makes a mother good.

You taught your son very early on what it is to be abandoned. To be left behind for a selfish life. That your own happiness meant more to you than he did. You did not show him what love was. Instead, you taught him how to close himself off emotionally. For that, I thank you. Why do I thank you? Because I am now tasked with trying to break down an incredibly thick and tall wall to access my husband's feelings and emotions. He is apathetic about most things in this life, and I am paying the price for your lack of mothering. I can count on one hand the number of times I have seen him genuinely happy: our wedding day and the day we brought our daughter home from the hospital. The rest of the time, he is so reserved, it makes you wonder if he cares about much in life outside of me and his baby.

You taught him that he should eat his meals as quickly as possible without taking a single sip of water by bringing his abusive step-dad into the picture, who beat the shit out of him if he didn't eat his meals fast enough. The same man who made him eat his own vomit when he ate too fast. You stood by and did nothing. You taught him you didn't care. Is that what makes a good mother to you? Does providing him with condoms in high school make up for that? Is that seriously what you think? What part of that is what a good parent would do?

You were not the one who taught him how to be responsible with money. In fact, you did the opposite when you robbed his piggy bank to feed your pot addiction. You were not the one who taught him to be an upstanding citizen, your mother did. You were not the one who taught him how to be a man, your mother did. You did nothing for him except give him life, and not a very good one at that.

A good mother leads by example. She teaches her children how to grow up with dignity and respect. She teaches them manners, and how to be responsible in money, relationships, and life. A good mother protects her children at all costs. She puts her children's needs before her own. A good mother is nurturing and compassionate.

So please, stop telling me you were a good mother, because the next time you do, I am going to send this letter to you. I will have you read every word in hopes that you can reflect back on what a "good" mother you were and apologize to your son AND me. I want you to see the damage you have done to him emotionally and the toll that takes on me as his wife. I pray it doesn't take a toll on our children, but it will. And we have you and your wonderful mothering skills to thank for that.

You make me angry. You make me seethe the way no one else can. You made this bed, and now you must lie in it.

In closing, I would like to ask that you please not call my husband and shout at him for things that have gone on between you and I again. The last time you called him to yell that I had sent pictures of the baby to everyone but you made me really angry. Especially considering in our last communication I told you I was done, and that I would not be sending you any more pictures or updates. That I would not inform you the next time we got pregnant, or anything about any future grandchildren unless you pulled your head out and made some very sincere apologies. If you have a beef with me, CALL ME. WE will hash it out, not you and my husband. You have already done enough to him.

As always, I wish you all the best in what is left of your life.

Part 2 - My Husband is Born

2010-06-04T10:54:00.000-07:00

~-~My Husband's life~-~

My husband was born to a very young mother who lived a hippy lifestyle to the max. I am sure she was there at Wo.odstock smoking doobies with the best of them when she met his dad, whom she married only to piss off her dad. She had been born into a life that gave her the opportunity to become whatever she wanted. They had wealth. Instead, she chose to skip school and party, scraping by a meager living. Then she gave birth to my husband. She had no idea what it meant to be a mother.

When my husband was about 2, his dad left the picture for good. Because my MIL had never bothered to make anything of herself, she could not raise my husband alone. A couple of years later, she dropped him on his grandparent's doorstep and left the picture to pursue a selfish life of pot and booze. This was the only good thing she ever really did for him.

Over the next few years, his grandma taught him to be responsible in all things. She taught him how to be a man, took him to swim lessons, and took care of him the way a mother should.

Then one day his mother decided she was ready to take him back when she shacked up with an extremely abusive man. Together, they eeked out a living, and she gave birth to my husband's half brother. For the next 8 years of his life, his step father beat the ever living shit out of him, while his mother stood by and did nothing.

When he was 13 years old, his step-dad left the picture, and left behind his bastard son, whom my husband had learned to loathe over the years. He then went into a lifestyle that would befit someone with his background, he became a hooligan who thought it was fun to be chased by cops, blow up frogs, and all sorts of other stupid things.

Then one day, he decided he didn't want that life. He wanted the kind where he would get married, have a family, be prosperous, and happy. He determined he wanted to be nothing like his mother. If she drank, he didn't want anything to do with it. If she smoked, he steered clear. If she liked sports, he hated them. Anything but to be like her.

His childhood was nothing like mine. Yet somehow, by the grace of God, he turned into a very fine, upstanding man who is well respected. He is an amazing father, and he loves his daughter so much. I can't imagine he has ever felt such love in his life for anything. It is incredible to look at his past and see who he has become. So very different from the path his mother set him on.

He too, is a phoenix.

Part 1 - I Am Born

2010-06-03T10:11:00.000-07:00

As you all know, I like to do series posts on this blog. Today while I was cleaning my kitchen, I thought of some things I would like to say to a certain person in my life, but I figure before I can get that out, I need to give some background. So today is part 1 of a 3-part series.

~-~My Life~-~

Growing up, I had the perfect childhood. I lived in a family that loved the Lord, was close knit, full of love, respect, was well-off financially, and all of those other good things. My parents made sure us kids never did without. The girls had dance and piano lessons, and the boys were in little league. We all had more toys than we ever knew what to do with. If we wanted our own pet, we pretty much had it. I had a dog, my sister had a cat, I had fish out the wazoo. My parents took great pride in their children and being part of our lives. Now that I am a mother, I understand just how much my parents loved me. I thought I knew how deep their love was before, but now I realize I had no idea.

My dad and I have always been very close. We have so much in common. We both love dogs, which no one else in our family shares the way we do. When I was in middle school, I wanted a 10-gallon fish tank, so I bought one. My dad and I spent the next several years maintaining and upgrading it together. It was filled with all kinds of crazy fish, newts, frogs, crabs, etc, but the best part was how much it brought us together, and how much fun we had with it.

When I started the 7th grade, I got to pick between being in band or choir. I wanted to be in the band so I could play trumpet like my dad and his dad. Over the next 10 years, my dad nurtured my talent. He was so proud of me, and I gave him every reason to be proud.

My parents taught me how to be responsible, to have dignity and respect. They led by example.

I grew up very close to all of my siblings, but especially my little brother. We have always said we should have been twins, even though we were born four years apart. We are two evil peas in an evil pod. Where one of us went, the other was never far behind. I always told him he was my favorite gift from God, the best thing my parents ever gave me, and that God knew what he was doing when he put us together.

My family was the family everyone always dreams of being part of. Sure we had our crazy moments, our fights, our drama, and everything else that every other family has, but we always had love, and loads of it. I always look back on my childhood fondly. I was raised right by parents who loved their children more than anything. I have learned how to be an awesome mother by the lessons my parents taught me as they parented me over the years. They are awesome parents, and I hope that my children look back on their childhoods as fondly as I do mine. I hope they tell me one day, "I hope I am as good of a mother as you are," because that is what I tell my parents.

My family life has made my life a great life, and I am thankful.

1 for 1

2010-06-02T08:09:00.001-07:00

I have something really cool to tell all of you gals. Ross was right!

My doctor came in to see me the morning after my surgery and the first comment out of his mouth was that the surgery was a little more complicated than he anticipated. I couldn't help but smile. I asked him what "complicated" meant, but my husband interjected with another question at the same time, so it never got addressed. Never fear though, I have a follow-up appointment next Thursday in which I will ask all the questions I need answered.

He did, however, say that everything else looked great. As an infertility doctor, he went ahead and checked out all of the things infertility doctors do anytime they are in the uterus, meaning he checked the ovaries and the tubes along with the ability for fluid to flow through the tubes. It was a relief. I am just so glad to have this behind me.

As for now, I am just convalescing at home and enjoying every minute of it so far. I am sure the loving it bit could change in the next couple days when my cabin fever sets in, but for now, it is just nice to have a break from life. I can't go anywhere or do anything except relax and take it easy. It ain't so bad!

Now, I am finally, FINALLY off to catch up with everyone! Loads of love!

The Surgery Is Done!

2010-05-30T20:13:00.000-07:00

Hello bloggy friends! Great news, the surgery is done and over with! If you want to read about it, you can visit this post on my primary blog.

Sorry I haven't been around much the last two weeks, but now that this procedure is behind me, I fully intend to catch up on ALL of my blog reading. Get ready for comment mania from me. :)

I missed you all, and can't wait to hear how everyone is doing.

It Gives One Chills

2010-05-23T19:34:00.000-07:00

Sometimes it amazes me just how spot on Ross is with his readings. Sometimes I think I know what he means during a reading, or that I know exactly what he is talking about, only to find out later that what he said had not yet occurred in life. For example, at my last reading he told me to ask the cards if DH really wanted to add another baby to our family. I looked at him with a face that said, "Duh Ross! Are you serious?" I then told him I didn't need to ask the cards because one night after all of this crap with the weak spot in my uterus went down back in February, I had told DH that maybe we just needed to be done having kids. DH told me that maybe I was done having kids, but that WE were not done having kids. At the time it was a total slap in the face.

However, I obliged Ross and asked the cards. The answer that came back was yes and no. I asked him to elaborate. He told me that there is an underlying fear in DH with growing our family. Today DH and I were sitting at the table having lunch with the Munchkin. She was so adorable eating her turkey sandwich and mandarin oranges. I looked at DH and said, "I can't wait to add another one to our family." To which he replied, "I can." I was shocked. Gobsmacked. He has NEVER said that before. When I asked him why, he replied, "money." The funny thing is, when Ross asked me what I thought DH's hangup was and I told him money, the first card I pulled was... you got it, money!

I realize DH was tired today, so much so that apparently his mind-to-mouth filter was off. Had he not been so tired, I am sure he wouldn't have said that, at least not to me. I then asked him if he wanted to wait a while before trying again, even though we already can't start trying until around September. It was then that he realized what he had said out loud, and he assuaged me by saying that it didn't matter, he wanted more, and so we would make everything work. I bit my tongue to keep from bringing up my reading with Ross. However, the accuracy of the reading was not lost on me. Whether DH believes in Ross's ability or not, the man has a gift, and more often than not, he is spot on, to the point that it gives one chills sometimes.

According to Ross, this surgery will go great, everything will work out, and I will have a son next. Let's see if he is right about that too. I am sure he will be ;)

Hello? Hello? Hello?

2010-05-17T20:59:00.001-07:00

The title of this post is supposed to represent the echo in a canyon because that is how I feel when it comes to updating my blogs lately. I kind of feel like my work blocking blogger might have been just what the doctor ordered for now. Like another one of my good bloggy friends, blogging has added a lot of stress to my life the past few months. I follow 85 blogs (EIGHTY-FIVE blogs people!) between the two of mine, and I post updates on both of mine regularly. It is a major part of my life, but as with all things in life, sometimes I just need a break for a bit. Some space, if you will.

On top of that, I think my mojo took a break. I'm not sure what happened, but ever since the day after my appointment at the May.o Clinic, I have felt really down. I haven't talked to anyone about it except one of my best friends. As always, I try to hide it and put on my happy face. I think I might be going through a serious emotional withdrawal still. I mean, for 2 months my life was in a crazy tail spin with all of this uterine rupture jazz, and let's face it, that roller coaster ride took me up to the clouds, sent me crashing down through the ground, spun me around in circles until I wanted to puke, and then repeated the whole process multiple times. Its no wonder I just want to be zen for a while!

I went from caring about EVERYTHING to caring about precious little outside of the people in my world (blog friends included, of course). I just don't have it in me to care about very much right now. Just ask my good friends and DH. I don't think they have ever seen me so apathetic about anything and everything. Whatever.

I have granted myself the grace to do what feels good in the moment. Thanks to Ross, what feels good this past week is just plain being out of the house. I have taken his advice and run with it. So why am I adding pounds to my frame when I'm being active? I know, I know, muscle weighs more than fat. Whatever.

As for those of you who asked if Ross does readings over the phone, I am sorry to say he normally doesn't. During our session last week he told me the only reason he felt comfortable doing them over the phone for me is because he knows me so well. I seriously considered asking him if he would try them over the phone for any of you who are interested until I remembered he said that during my las reading. I might still ask him anyway.

My surgery is next Friday, and then I will be off work for 3-6 weeks. During that time I will be doing TONS of blog reading and commenting. Please be patient with me until then. I have given myself the grace to back off of feeling like I need to do everything in the meantime. I miss you gals. I'll be back. Just let this rubber band stretch away for a bit, and then I'll snap back tight as ever. :)

The Words of Ross

2010-05-10T19:54:00.000-07:00

So this past weekend I went home to visit my folks. While I was there, I asked my dad if we could go see his friend, Ross. For those of you who have been following this blog for any length of time, you will remember that Ross has a very special psychic gift. Okay, before my new readers start laughing, I would like to tell you to hold your sniggers. This guy really DOES have the ability. In fact, his gift is known to the U.S. government who have been known to show up at his front door unannounced, take him away to the airport, put him on a jet, and take him to an undisclosed location to use his gifts in planning strategies. This happened recently, actually. They have found that he is consistently over 90% accurate. He is also well-known in the area where I grew up. It is amazing being in the same room as him.

When DH and I were going through infertility treatments, Ross had no idea. But one day my dad and he went to lunch. My dad asked Ross what he saw for me. Ross told him that he knew we would have a hard time conceiving. That our path to parenthood would be long and hard, but that we would eventually go on to have at least one little girl. Nine months later, we were pregnant, after almost two years of infertility treatments and surgery. We had a girl.

This weekend I just wanted Ross to give me a general reading. I feel that life has been pretty good lately and that I am on the right track. I kind of wanted confirmation of what I had been feeling. My reading was awesome and lasted over two hours. A lot of it had to do with DH, and I won't get into that because it is DH's story, and I don't think he would appreciate me blogging about it (even though he is a non-believer [even though Ross gave him a 100% accurate reading last fall regarding a job situation]). But what I will tell you is that Ross confirmed I AM on the right path.

Ross feels very strongly, as do my dad and I, that my next child will be a boy. He told me that my upcoming procedure will have a little wrench thrown in it, being that either the surgery will take a little longer than my doctor thinks because he will find something else that needs to be taken care of. I told him I had had the same feeling about the surgery. My doctor thinks he will be in and out, but I have had a feeling he will find some other things in there that need to be addressed. Honestly, I feel like it will have to do with my ovaries. I've felt that for a while now.

When I asked if my next pregnancy would go as smoothly as my first, he confirmed what I had already been feeling, and that is that it will. I just feel deep down that everything will be fine. Now before you think he provides me with vague information that I turn around and interpret how I want (which is what my husband thinks), he doesn't. He is very specific when he can be, and his ability to hit the nail on the head is amazing. I am telling you, this guy is for real. He is no stupid Ma.dam Cl.eo.

I forgot to ask if I would have more than one more child. I guess for now I am just focusing on getting the next one here.

He did tell me that I need to get outside more and spend more time on myself. I told him I blogged, and that was my thing. He laughed and told me that didn't count. My daughter loves to be outside, and she will climb in her stroller and close the tray by herself daily. After talking to Ross, who said even my baby could tell what I needed, DH and I decided I will take the Munchkin on a walk every time she does that from now on. When I asked her if she wanted to go on a walk tonight, she climbed right in her stroller. She knew what it meant!

Remember my Top 5? That came up in my reading as well. Specifically my Developer trait. I couldn't help but smile when he started talking about that, and I thought of a couple of you in particular while he talked about it, especially you Noelle. :)

Now we just sit back and wait to see how accurate Ross was. I am really going to enjoy posting about it when he is. He has been right so many times before. And again, none of what he says is vague and left open for interpretation. He gives me specifics. Won't it be interesting if he is (we are) right about the surgery?

Also, I wanted to let you all know I was reading up on your blogs over the weekend, but I am not always able to comment from my phone. I can if your page doesn't refresh for word verification, but most of your blogs do, so I couldn't comment. Know that I have been following along and will comment when I can. Noelle and Sass, you are both very much in my prayers.

Ooopsie

2010-05-05T20:17:00.001-07:00

Oh dear blog friends, I am afraid what I do in my down time at work has been noticed, and it was not taken happily by the powers that be. In other words, I read blogs when I'm bored, which is more than I would like, as my services are only needed toward the end of our burning projects. But I think the thing that really kicked me in the ass with all of it was the number of times I logged into blogger every day. I am sure a huge red flag went up, and honestly, I'm surprised it has taken this long. I knew if I kept going the way I was, eventually I would be found out and blocked.

Today was that day.

I got to work and nothing to do, as I am waiting on stuff from other people. So what did I do to occupy my time? I went to my happy place, my blogs. Imagine how unhappy I was when I was greeted with a message telling me all personal sites, including blogs, were now being blocked. I couldn't log in.

I wasn't mad. I'm still not mad. I AM sad though. I feel like my best friend has been fired. What am I going to do between projects now? I wonder if they will block CNN too? The funny thing is, they didn't block Fa.ceBo.ok, and I am sure that site gets way more hits company-wide than blogspot. Oh well. There isn't a damn thing I can do about it.

The thing that really makes me sad is there is no way I can be caught up on my blog reading anymore. DH hates my blogs. He calls them, "my boyfriend." So if I ever dare take any time away from him to blog, I hear about it for the next two months. I started writing my blog posts just before bed (hence all of the typos and grammatical errors) just to keep from stealing time from him. That still didn't make him happy though. If I had time to blog, I had time to snuggle with him. Forget the fact that my blogging time came out of my sleeping time.

I think what is going to happen is this blog will eventually have to merge with my primary blog. I am going to try not to do that, but if I can't keep up with two blogs, I will have to downsize. I need this blog. It is my secret hiding place. I guess we'll just have to see how things go. I only have a few more weeks until my surgery, and then I can blog my butt off while I convalesce for four weeks.

Be patient with me friends. I now have to come up with a new blogging strategy. My comments may slow down for a bit. The funny thing is, I can still access everyone's blogs, I just can't log in to comment on them. I might try to read at work and then comment from home at night. I'll figure it out, cause I'm smart like that.

All right, I'm off to catch up in the half hour before my laundry is done, at which point I will be going to bed... late.

Secrets of a Fair Weather Blogger

2010-05-04T07:44:00.000-07:00

I feel like lately all of my posts have been rants about people or situations in my life, at least on this blog. My other blog seems to be where all of the magic happens, and that makes me feel bad. I mean, yeah, a big part of the reason behind this blog is so I can talk about things I can't on the other one because everyone IRL has the other one, and sometimes I just need to complain about them or work or whatever. But my friends on this blog don't only need the whiny me, they need the fun me! So let's get a little more personal, shall we?

I wanted to share a secret with all of you. One that my family members can never find out about or I will never hear the end of it. Before I tell you, I need to let you all know that I was raised in the LDS faith. No, we are not polygamists (polygs get excommunicated, btw), and no, we are not Amish. Yes, we believe in Jesus, and yes, it is the same Jesus as the rest of the Christian world. Now that we have that out of the way we can move on.

My religion taught me to never drink alcohol, coffee, or tea, to never smoke or do drugs, so I didn't. Growing up it was a religious thing, but as I got older and spread my wings, it turned into a personal choice.

Since graduating from college, I have officially become what people in my religion call, "Jack Mormon." Meaning I am a member, but I rarely attend services. I also don't follow all of the rules. Some would say I don't because I think they are an inconvenience to my life, but the reality is, I just don't think God cares as much as my religion teaches. I believe that as long as I am a good person, and do my best to be a good person in this world, that is what really matters. I don't think I will spend an eternity in hell because I like to indulge in the occasional Star.bucks frappuchino. I think a frapp compared to stealing or murder is small fries, and not something God will really condemn me for (the frap, of course).

I mean, does this look like the face of a villain?

"I love puppies, laying on the beach, and drinking the occasional frap."

I further don't believe that God will send all of my non-mo friends to hell because they drink on occasion and don't attend church. I think of all the things he would send people to hell over, a shot if whiskey wouldn't be one of them.

Now that we have dispensed of the prelude, I can tell you all my dirty little secret. Last Friday my teammates and I went to our weekly lunch. That day also happened to be the birthday of the only other girl on the team. To celebrate, one of my coworkers ordered up a round of baby bellini's (it was an Italian restaurant). At first I opted out. I mean, I've never touched a drop of alcohol in my life.

Take a moment to gasp.

I have always wondered what it tasted like, but my curiosity never got the better of me. I just never cared. I have often thought about what I would tell my daughter when she got to an age where she could drink alcohol, legally or not. Would she do it because her mother never did? Would she laugh at me to all of her friends? Or would she respect and find pride in the fact that her mother never did? Well, if she is anything like me, she will like knowing that her mother gave it a try and could honestly say it wasn't something she cared for. (I can say this because one of my perfect Mormon parents took a swig back in the day.)

So to be a part of the team and celebrate my coworker's birthday, I had my first alcoholic drink! I can honestly say it is not something I care for. But at least now I can say I tried it and didn't like it. I don't think I will become an alchie any time soon.

Now just for grins and giggles, I leave you a somewhat silly picture of me one day after I dyed my hair dark brown for fun. My dog didn't recognize me when I got home and growled and barked at me for 5 minutes while my husband laughed his butt off. This was back during the height of our infertility treatment days, so you will have to excuse the Infertile Acne. :)

Booyah! Sexy infertile mama curled up on the couch with her #1 pooch!

Never Mind

2010-05-03T10:39:00.000-07:00

There's a part of me, granted a big part of me, that likes to believe there is some good in all people. I believe that most people crave the comfort and attention of others. Without that need, we would not be fit for this planet. It is instinct. A need for survival. Without it, people go literally insane. Everyone needs to feel loved and appreciated by someone. I don't think anyone deserves to be alone. Not completely alone.

Last week I went to the store to buy Mother's Day cards for my mom. One from me, and one from the Munchkin. Before I even pulled up to the store, my internal battle was going on. Do I get one for my MIL (aka BIL -- and no, the B does not stand for "brother") or not? Normally my answer is a resounding "HELL NO!" But, her dad just died and she is officially cut off from all of her family with his passing. No one likes her, and no one wants anything to do with her, except for her worthless son (again, not my husband, but his half breed brother).

I have already told her I want nothing to do with her, and that she will no longer receive updates or pictures of her granddaughter. This all came after a very long, drawn out, vicious battle between us a couple of months ago after I determined she just could not be nice to anyone to save her poor pitiful life. She just cannot muster the ability to not be cruel for no reason.

That decision was based on the fact that if she treats me and everyone else in her family like that, then how would she treat my daughter when she was old enough to understand how cruel her grandma is? I didn't want her crying because her grandma was mean to her for no reason. The woman makes her sisters cry with her cruelty.

So I sat in the parking lot, wondering if I should be nice and get her a card from the baby. I didn't want her to think I had softened toward her, to think I was willing to mend fences that had been blown apart by a-bombs, or was trying to get at her newly found and undeserved fortune. Because I couldn't decide, I called my dad, who of course has not been bitten by her cruelty personally and so thought I should be the bigger person and get her a card. I used to think the way my dad did, but there are so few redeeming qualities in this woman, and it pains me to say it.

I sat on the card isle forever, trying to find a card that wouldn't imply she was a sweet and loving grandma. I had a hard time. I finally found one that had a prayer in it. It said something along the lines of "I pray for you every day." I laughed and thought, "Don't we all?" It didn't say anything about her being the world's best grandma, or my daughter being lucky to have such a great grandma.

It made me feel sick, but I bought the card. Then drove back to work, debating over whether or not I should tear it up or send it. I then spent the next week not wanting to send the card. DH told me to just send it because I bought it. That isn't good enough reason for me. It would be more satisfying to tear it up.

Today at lunch I decided to not send the card for all of the above reasons. The woman has more money than she knows what to do with now, so she can find comfort this Mother's Day smoking doobies with her son and getting drunk. I will stand by my decision to keep her out of my daughter's and my life.

An Honorable Mention

2010-04-29T21:02:00.001-07:00

First of all, I want to thank all of my wonderful bloggy friends for backing me up on my last post and telling me I wasn't being silly. I really appreciated it.

I did go to the awards banquet, and I kept telling myself I could do it. That I wouldn't be a grouch because I knew I wouldn't win anything. Aren't these things all about supporting the people you respect and admire anyway? It is to celebrate the whole department and share in everyone's success. While it would be nice to be recognized, the party was for everyone.

I actually had a pretty good time. I will admit though that I secretly loved it when only one person on my team won an award. I kind of had an evil chuckle about that. Last year everyone on my team won an award except me.

I did, however, get an honorable mention, which was nice. The funny thing is, I was pretty zoned out when I was mentioned, so I almost missed it. Had I been paying attention, I would have hammed it up a bit. But because I wasn't, the moment slipped by before I realized it. Oops.

I have decided I am going to talk to my PM about the little guys like me. There is another girl in my department who is a graphic artist and has busted her tail on our latest project. Like me, she is the only one who does what she does, and she is also like the bastard child in the corner until someone needs something from us. There are far too many people like us in the office who work just as hard as all of the folks who receive awards but go unrecognized. I realize these engineers design our products, and a lot of time and work goes into taking a drawing and making it a reality, but that reality also includes the graphic designer's artwork for marketing literature that sells the product, and it includes the manuals I write so that our end users know how to make the product work correctly and safely. We work every bit as hard as they do, and then we are overlooked. Honestly, it sucks, and it hurts.

For a company who is all about boosting morale, they overlooked recognition for the folks behind the scenes. So I am going to suggest to my PM that we either have an awards ceremony for people like me, or that we are included in the annual award ceremony. I don't necessarily need a trophy or a plaque, but I would like a little something to show I am appreciated just as much as my teammates.

I will let you all know how that goes.

On a different subject, I have scheduled my surgery for May 28th. I forgot to post about it on this blog. So in less than a month, I will be spending a lot of time on my back side sleeping and reading blogs for 3-6 weeks. :D I am kind of looking forward to the time away from everything for a bit.

And now, it is time for a girl drowsy from heavy allergy medication to take her leave and head off to dreamland. Good night all!

P.S. I LOVE that I can write about all of these feelings on this blog! These are things I would never say in real life. lol

Thank You Everyone... Except You.

2010-04-26T20:17:00.000-07:00

Okay dear blog friends, I am going to tell you something and I want you all to tell me if you think I am being silly. DH thinks I am, but he cares about precious little in this world outside of the baby and I.

Tomorrow at work they are holding a departmental award ceremony. They do this every year, and up until the economy fell flat on its face last year, this ceremony was a big deal where they would rent out a section of a really nice restaurant and everyone would dress up for it. They had nice trophies made every year that cost them hundreds of dollars, if not thousands. But then The Tank happened, and last year's award ceremony was held humbly in the office, and all of the teams in my department chipped in to make inventive trophies instead of buying some.

Now my job is not impressive. In fact, more often than not my job is seen as a necessary evil and I am shoved in the corner cube like the bastard child at pretty much every company I've ever worked for. My job is important, and without it, my company cannot sell a damn thing. It is an integral part of the process. Not only that, but I am the only person in my company who does what I do. I am further the only person that supports all four teams of my department. Everyone else is pigeon-holed into their role in their team. We also have multiple people doing the same jobs, except for mine.

Because I am the only one doing my job, I am often overlooked, and never does that sting me like it does at the awards ceremony. Why? Because I will never get an award. I didn't do anything super or design some crazy new product that is going to make the company millions of dollars. No, friends, I am the decrepit wench in the dark corner cranking out manuals for these products. I have no one to compete with, no one to be compared to, nothing to measure up to but myself. In the eyes of my company, what is impressive about that?

Forget the fact that I work side-by-side with these teams as they all create and drive new projects to completion. Forget the fact that without my documentation, these products can't go anywhere. Forget the fact that I go through just as much to get my documents approved as they do designing and getting their products approved.

I am dreading tomorrow. I don't want to go, and the thought that if I don't it will be viewed very poorly and come up in a review makes me angry inside. I have to go and watch everyone around me be recognized for their great work, clap my hands and smile when they receieve an award, and pretend to not notice I will be the only one who doesn't receive any kind of award, recognition, or praise. I'm not exaggerating.

Last year I spent months working on a project trying to get some seriously messed up documentation (that was created before I arrived) in a more than presentable state while fighting tooth and bloody nail with a PM to make it happen. When it came time to celebrate the product launch, an award was given to another woman who had spent all of two weeks reviewing the documentation I had spent over 4 months writing. I kid you not. I got NOTHING. No recognition, no t-shirt, nothing. It took all I had to keep from screaming and telling everyone they could go to hell. It took every last ounce of my resolve to stand there for the rest of the party and not rip heads off, but instead, put on a happy face.

Every year they give out an award for the new person who makes the most impact in their first year. I was a contender for that award last year. Remember how I said I am the only person in my department who does work for all four teams? Well, keep that in mind as I tell you the award went to a guy who had to fly out to Germany a couple of times for one product line. Poor guy! He had to go to Germany to drink German beer and eat German chocolate on the company dime. How sad! I feel so very sorry for him. It is a good thing he won that award. I'm sure it made him feel so much better.

Do you know that I wrote a manual for a major product launch for all of our products that year? Now you do. And between you and me, we're the only ones who know.

I am trying not to be bitter and resentful, but I just can't help it. I was the bastard child in my last job, litterally shoved in a corner office and forgotten about. That was a big part of the reason I left. I don't know which is worse, a boss who has no idea what you do for him every day but thinks you are the best thing to ever grace his doorstep, or a boss who knows exactly how hard you work every day and gives you no recognition.

Tomorrow my teams will all get awards for their progress this past year. They will all be recognized and celebrated. When they hand out the praise they will say, "Thank you to everyone for a job well done... except for you, Saige. What you do doesn't really matter. We have no award for people like you. By the way, why are you at this ceremony? Don't you have something to write?"

Please tell me, am I being silly? Is it stupid of me to want to bask in the glow of well-earned praise? Like I said, DH thinks so. He doesn't know why I care. I care because it sucks to watch everyone else take home a trophy except for me.

Maybe I will call in sick with explosive diarrhea tomorrow. That would be better than going to the ceremony only to be overlooked.

Turning Point Part II

2010-04-24T20:09:00.000-07:00

If you missed the last post, I recommend reading it before delving into this one, as it has the entire back story.

I left off with all of you feeling warm and fuzzy about my first love. It was a great time in my life, and one I remember fondly.

About 6 months into our relationship, things started to go south. He started to get depressed. We were about to graduate from high school and move onto real life. I don't know if it was the magnitude of that hitting him, but he was changing. He started to become dark. He had gone from being sweet to almost being cruel. I asked him many times if he wanted to break up, and he assured me he didn't. He told me I was the only thing good he had in his life. He asked me to be patient and to please stay with him. I loved him, so I did. As he went off the deep end, I went with him. I will spare you all the details of the next month, as it is just a sad story.

I realized on July 24th, our relationship was over when his parents asked me for his class ring back. They made up a story about wanting to get it engraved. I knew the truth. He was too much of a chicken to tell me goodbye to my face. In the two weeks that followed, our phone calls didn't happen every night anymore, and when they did, they were depressing. Then one day he told me he was going to live with his grandpa for a while to help out on his ranch . He told me to wait for him, and that he would call me when he got back and had things figured out. I never heard from him again.

In the weeks that I waited for his call, I wrote him letters. I poured out all of my feelings about what he was doing to me. Some of them I never intended to send, while others I knew I wanted him to read. Two weeks before I was to go off to college, I wrote him the final letter in which I called him a coward. I told him that I was done waiting, and that I was moving on with my life. As I always do when I part with someone, good or bad, I wished him all the best in his life.

Within the first month at college I had a new boyfriend (I had taken some bad advice to move on by finding someone new ASAP). We dated for about 4 months before my feelings for my previous boyfriend prevented me from feeling anything toward the current one. Who, by the way, was the most perfect man I have ever dated. Not perfect for me, but just perfect in general. We should have worked out, but I had too much baggage. The sad thing is, I didn't cry because we didn't work out, I cried because I missed my old boyfriend still. After we broke up, I refused to date. I didn't want to be looked at by guys, touched by them, or even breathed on by them.

I was going through my turning point. I was discovering myself and my worth. I began making all of the relationships in my life closer. I started to appreciate all of my family and friends even more. I was realizing what I really wanted in a husband. My whole life was doing a complete 180 from where I had been before I met him. Maybe that would have eventually happened had I not met him, but he got the ball rolling. I learned so much about myself and who I was as a person. I laid out what I thought was acceptable behavior from people around me and what wasn't. I was going from someone who was borderline bitter for no reason to someone who was appreciative of life and everything it had to offer.

The woman who popped out the other side was a woman completely different from the girl who went in.

Two days before I married my husband, I had a dream that I went back to my first love's house. His mother answered the door and was so excited to see me. Like her son, she thought I had returned to marry him. When he came around the corner, we embraced, and he began to tell me he knew I would come back. I sat him down on the couch and told him that I was actually going to be married to someone else in a few days. I informed him I had only come to thank him for being such an important part of my life. I didn't regret one bit of our relationship, and that all of it made me who I am today. I had learned so much from the experience, and I was grateful for the blessing it was in my life, even if it was hard at the end of it and for years afterward. My life would have been so different had he not been in it.

As I always do, I wished him all the best in his life and hoped that he found happiness because he deserved it. I then walked out of his life for good.

I wouldn't change a thing.

Turning Point Part I

2010-04-22T19:40:00.003-07:00

Everyone has that one iconic moment in their lives where they look back and realize that was a major turning point. For some it happens sooner than for others, and for some these moments occur more than just once or twice. There is always one where you realize you have morphed from a child into an adult complete with freedom and responsibility. Sometimes there is one that shapes you into who you are today. Sometimes there is one that throws you off the path you thought your life was supposed to follow, but instead takes a completely different direction.

I often think about the turning points in my life. The first was my biggest and forever changed my outlook on myself, the people in my life, and my future. I look back on that time in my life when I was only 18 years old, and even though at the time it was one of the hardest times of my life, I wouldn't change a single thing. I went through everything I did so that I could become who I am today. That moment also made me realize I was becoming an adult, and that it was time to put away silly school girl fantasies and welcome myself to the reality of life.

About two weeks before my 18th birthday I met the first and only guy I ever truly loved besides my husband. He is the only guy who is not related to me to ever hear, "I love you," from my lips. Don't get me wrong, I dated a lot, but my love was never something I threw around frivolously. It meant something to me, and so I would only bestow it on men who really, truly deserved it. My mother often told me I was cold hearted when I didn't care after I broke up with guys. She never understood I never got emotionally attached unless I thought the guy had some serious potential.

For the next 7 months, our relationship had the classic Romeo and Juliet feel, right down to burning the candle from both ends. He lived three hours away from me, but we met at a weekend high school honor band function held at one of the state universities. The funny thing is, I was there to hook up with a guy I had met there the year before. But this new guy wouldn't have it. He wouldn't give me up for the world. He saw me going after the man I was there to pursue, but he intervened every chance he got. Eventually the other guy just backed down. To the victor went the spoils.

We decided after that one weekend that we wanted to be together and would do whatever it took to make it happen. He was more determined than I was and had the means to make it possible, so he did.

We would talk on the phone every single night for hours. He drove three hours out to my house almost every single weekend. Some weekends he would drive out to pick me up and take me back to his house, doing two 6-hour round trips in one weekend. I still can't believe his parents were completely okay with it.

Our love was sweet and gentle. It started out softly, and it grew stronger by the day. He was the first and only guy who ever wrote me love poems and letters. All of which are safely tucked away in my cedar chest. I had kissed many guys before him, but I had never french kissed before him. He was my first. I had thrown away my first kiss on a guy who was not worthy, so I had to makeup for the horrible first kiss by making the first french kiss special, meaningful, and full of desire.

We loved each other so much. We often talked about running away to Reno to get married. We went so far as to buy wedding bands, and once had his mother obtain a marriage certificate for us so we could fake out our friends. More than once we would get in his beat up little Ford truck and hop on the freeway to Reno. We would drive and say, "I am serious. I want to do this. Are you sure you do?" We were both serious. But for some reason, we never made it. Who knows why, perhaps it was divine intervention. I don't remember ever turning around or one of us backing out. Chances are I was the one who always got cold feet.

I thought or chances of ending up married one day were really good. We had a plan that included him building our house on a ranch where we could raise all sorts of animals and start a big family. We both wanted five kids. It all seemed so perfect.

I was still a naive child. My eyes were about to be opened.

To keep this post from being seriously long, I am going to break it up into two parts. Tonight I want to leave you with the warm, fuzzy part of the sweet innocence that is young love. Wrap yourself in it and breathe it in. Ah to be young again and experience all the thrills of the chase.

Nothing Will Change

2010-04-19T17:55:00.001-07:00

With the recent death of my husband's grandpa, his mother has suddenly come into money. DH says he always thought his grandpa was a millionaire. He was in the oil industry for many years and never wanted for spare change. When he passed, he spread his wealth equally among his three daughters. Two of whom used what was available to them growing up and went to college, got degrees, and are now successful business women. My husband's mom, however, chose to run off, become a hippy, smoke weed out her ass, and marry the first man her dad didn't like: DH's dad. As a result, she spent most of her adult life penniless, scraping just to get by. I won't go into the rest of her story, because it is all more of the same.

I also won't get into what makes me really angry about the current situation.

Now, however, now she is a wealthy woman. I am sure she will squander loads of her inheritance on booze and pot. She has been telling us for the last couple of years she thinks her days are numbered. I am not sure if she says that because there is something wrong with her, or because she is being dramatic and thinks that telling us such a story will make us want to put up with her seriously cruel attitude. Either way, I never cared. There is NO reason for her to treat people the way she does. NONE.

When DH went to his grandpa's funeral this weekend (the Munchkin and I couldn't go because we couldn't afford the flights), I asked him to please collect the photos, photo album, and photo calendar I made for his grandpa for Christmas and have been sending since that time. When he asked why, I told him just because I wanted them back. I explained all of his family had been given similar items, and no one would have the need for the ones I gave to his grandpa. In all honesty, I didn't want HER to have them. I gave his grandpa way more pictures than I ever gave her, and he had more recent ones from the baby's birthday, which she did not receive because we called our relationship quits just before the Munchkin's birthday.

When he asked for them, apparently his mother threw a shit fit.

Let me pretend to be surprised.

Nope, can't do it.

I knew she would be pissed off. I knew it would grate her. And you know what? I'm kind of glad.

She told DH he would have to ask his aunts, as though those items were now in the possession of the three of them and I no longer had any right to them.

His aunts told her to knock it off and to send them back to me, that that is what their dad would have wanted. They already have their pictures, and they know she does too. Whether or not they know I will no longer send her updated photos of the baby, I don't know. But what I can say is that DH's aunts WILL still receive updated photos, cards, and all manner of things his mother won't because she cannot be nice to me to save her life.

I sincerely hope that she doesn't think that just because she is now a wealthy woman that our relationship will change. I could care less about her new bank account. My relationships with people are not based on money. My world does not, never has, and never will revolve around money. She can leave her mula to her worthless son (obviously not DH), and like her, he can blow it all on booze and weed. I just don't give a damn.

My respect and dignity cannot be bought for any price.

My daughter is not for sale either.

Just as before her father died, our relationship is still over. I still will not email her. I still won't send her pictures or updates of the baby. I won't email or call her when I get pregnant next, or bring another child into this world. I still want nothing to do with her, and I still don't want her negativity in my life. I do, however, still wish her all the best, as I always do with everyone who leaves my life, on good terms or bad.

Endometriosis and TTC

2010-04-16T14:26:00.000-07:00

Hey friends, I am not back off my break yet, but a fellow blogger named Tania approached me a couple of weeks ago and asked for my help spreading information about endometriosis to women who are TTC. She asked if she wrote up a blog post for me if I would put it on my blog. As a big part of the reason behind my blogs is to provide information as well as support to fellow IFers, I immediately told her yes. Especially because she wanted to write up something that applied to one of my reasons for infertility. I feel that as infertiles, the best thing we can do is educate ourselves as to why we are in the situations we are in if we know why we are here. I know exactly why I'm here, so I was excited to be a part of this with Tania. Below is the post she wrote up just for my blog and my readers. If you suffer from endo, please take a look at it. Maybe it will provide you with information you didn't have before. I know it did for me.

Love you all and miss you!

Endometriosis Research and Omega -3-Fatty Acid Rich Diet

According to recent scientific endometriosis research, women that consume a diet rich in omega-3 fatty acids could be less likely to develop the disease, while women that have diets rich in trans-fats may have an increased risk. The study indicates there is a direct link between endometriosis and the diet a woman observes. The total amount of fat consumed in the diet does not matter nearly as much as the type of fat being eaten.

Females that consumed an omega-3 fatty acid rich diet were 22% less likely to develop endometriosis, while 48% of women that ate the least amount of these fats had a considerably higher risk. The study was conducted on 70,709 nurses in the United States and lasted for 12 years and found that diet plays a vital part in the development of endometriosis. The informational study also determined that a low fat diet is not necessarily the best and only seemed to highlight the need to eliminate trans-fats from the diet entirely.

Millions of women trying to conceive will experience endometriosis, which can have a direct impact on fertility. Many females have been seeking an alternative choice which will allow them to manage the symptoms of endometriosis and reduce the risks of developing the disease. Making certain dietary modifications now and incorporating a diet rich in omega-3 fatty acids can be done as a protective measure and actually might reduce the risks of endometriosis.

Endometriosis is a condition in which uterine tissues are located in areas outside of the womb, the tissue bleeds during menstruation and causes some women to endure chronic pain. Some women have no symptoms of endometriosis and others can experience debilitating pain. The endometrial tissue can also adhere to other organs in the body and may cause infertility problems in women trying to conceive.

The disease of endometriosis affects approximately 10% of females of childbearing age and because the causes are not completely understood, a woman can go through many different things trying to manage the symptoms and treat the pain. Symptoms of a pain related to endometriosis are commonly dealt with by using anti-inflammatory medications, steroids, hormones or surgery. However, for women that have tried everything and experience no significant relief from the pain, making lifestyle adjustments and dietary changes can yield positive results.

Endometriosis research has indicated that tracking dietary habits and categorizing certain foods can help a woman find out which foods are actually helping and which are leading to an increase in symptoms. Long chain omega-3 fatty acids can be found in many foods but the most common are tuna, salmon, mackerel, mayonnaise and full fat salad dressing. Trans fat foods are produced through a method called hydrogenation which changes the vegetable oil into solid fat and has been linked to an increase of heart disease.

When dealing with endometriosis and trying to manage the painful side effects, a woman can be at a loss as to know what to do. Through checking into all the research information and consulting with a nutritionist or dietician can help a woman devise a diet rich in omega-3 fatty acid foods, which can improve both quality of life and fertility. More research is ongoing to determine if a reduction of trans fats and an increase in omega-3 fatty acids can hold any more benefits for women suffering from endometriosis.

For more information, you can visit Tania's blog.

Burnout

2010-04-13T20:07:00.000-07:00

For those of you whom followed me over here from my primary blog, I need to issue a disclaimer here. This blog is my outlet for everything emotional that isn't sunshine and lollipops. This is where I put all of the feelings out there that I don't want exposed to my family, IRL friends, and potentially coworkers.

One of my best friends, JM, has taught me so much about how life really isn't all black and white. Things I thought were crystal clear before I met her all of a sudden became foggy after we became friends. I always value a different perspective on life, and actively seek it out. We are so different in so many ways, and it is those differences that draw me to her.

A while back when I was last really upset with Crazy Dog Lady, I went through what JM called, "emotional withdrawal." She explained that it is like a hangover after an emotional bender. I woke up two days after my encounter with the crazy woman feeling completely drained and somewhat depressed. Had I not had JM around that day, I would have thought I was bipolar.

The reason I bring that up is because I am on a huge emotional withdrawal right now. After my big, exciting news on Friday, I feel like I have kind of gone off the deep end. It has nothing to do with Friday, per se, but more that I am realizing my life over the last two months has caught up with me.

You see, since February 19th, the day of the fated ultrasound that sent my life in a tailspin, I have been going full steam. I have been throwing as much coal onto the fire as I possibly could. Not just with the rupture, but with everything in my life. Around that same time, a massive project at work picked up, and since then I have been pulled in a million different directions trying to write manuals, update procedures, go on installations, and try to keep the peace between some seriously stressed out coworkers. All the while I didn't realize I was barely keeping my own head above water. I was hanging on for dear life while trying to rescue everyone around me from drowning too.

My husband's grandpa died last night. He was a very great man who loved my husband dearly. My MIL (aka BIL) dropped my husband on her parent's doorstep to be raised for about 4 years of his life while she gallivanted off to smoke pot and drink like a fish. While I disrespect her lack of motherly skills, I can't help but give her credit for unknowingly doing the best thing she could have ever done for my husband. He spent the most vulnerable years of his life where who he would grow up to be was shaped. Because of it, he turned out to be nothing like his mother, and is a very great man himself. Unlike his mother, he values his family, never drank, never smoked, and never got into real trouble. As you can tell, the passing of his grandpa is more than a big deal. DH is handling it in a way I never expected. He hasn't cried, and he seems to not care. On the surface. I know how he is handling it though, and I would rather he cry.

Add to that, the Munchkin really started to pick up a vocabulary over the weekend. At first we were so proud and amazed. Now all she says is, "MINE!" to EVERYTHING and threw tantrums left and right all night long when she didn't get what she thought should be hers. She threw even bigger tantrums when what she thought was hers, like dinner, wasn't delivered fast enough. I love my child more than the air I breathe, but tonight, I didn't have the fight left in me.

What I am getting at is that I am completely and totally burned out with life right now. The coal for my fire is all but gone. I have switched to auto pilot and am wondering how much is just enough to get by. I feel horrible writing this, but I am also burned out on blogging. I have been for over a week now. I keep wondering if there is anyway I can take a break without feeling guilty that I might miss a pregnancy announcement, miss some big news that needs cheering on, miss the opportunity to provide love and support to a struggling blogger. So I keep going. Just like I do with work. Just like I am doing with my home life right now. I am just plain burned out.

Right now, I feel nothing. Not happiness, not despair, not hope, just nothing. I just am, because right now that is all I have left to give. Nothing.

It is here I write what I wish I wasn't going to, but I have to take a break from blogging for a while. I will check in on everyone when I can at work, but I am not going to pressure myself to do so right now. I need to get some life back in me, and I can't do that without taking some time out to focus on me. I promise I will be back. I just don't know when. I hope you all understand. I apologize up front if I miss some big news. Know that I am always thinking about and praying for all of you.

Sending all my love.

Movie Critic Round 1

2010-04-12T20:45:00.001-07:00

My husband and I have a Blo.ckbu.ster account where we receive movies in the mail. When we first got it, we watched so many movies it was crazy. Of course, that was back during our infertility treatment days when we had nothing else to do but watch movies. At one point, I did a movie review week on my blog. It was a lot of fun, and I haven't done it since, so I thought it would be fun to start doing it again on this blog. Who can't use a break from the every day bump and grind of TTC against the odds?

So here are my movie reviews on the last few movies DH and I watched:

500 Days of Summer - I thought this movie was supposed to be a cute romantic comedy. I am not a huge Zoey fan, but DH thought this movie looked cute, so I put it on the BB list. I should have known by the first statement in the movie that I didn't need to proceed any further. This movie was anything BUT cute! It was actually quite a downer. The only thing it did for me was make me even more super dooper glad that I am no longer in the dating scene and pray to God that I never am again.

I give this movie two big thumbs down and don't recommend it unless you feel like being really glad you aren't dating anymore.
The Informant - This movie was not at all what I expected either, but it was kind of funny. It wasn't as funny as the commercials made it out to be, but it wasn't horrible. DH and I both said we are sure it would have been even funnier if we worked for the F.BI. It definitely took twists and turns I didn't expect. The part that made us laugh the most was the dollar amount the guy stole from the company went up by $2-3 million every time he talked about how much was in his off-shore account. It was worth watching at least once.

I give this movie a neutral thumb. I didn't wish I had the two hours of my life back that I spent watching it, and it was entertaining.
Confessions of a Shopaholic - CUTE beyond CUTE! Maybe I thought it was super cute because I have a shopping addiction myself. Or maybe I thought it was super cute because I LOVE Isla Fisher. Either way, I loved this movie. It also helps that it ended the way all romantic comedies should. The comedic value was also there throughout the movie, especially the part where she literally freezes her assets. I did that once, so I could totally relate. I can also relate to the need to go to a Shopaholics Anonymous meeting. Oh yeah, I can also relate to the rush I feel when I buy things. I am all about tangible instant gratification.

I give this movie two great big thumbs up! Definitely see it if you haven't yet. It is too cute to pass up.
Last Chance Harvy - If you haven't seen this one yet, let me save you the trouble. Don't. It was so depressing. It was one of those movies that should be shown to people recovering from depression because you watch it and think, "Thank God my life isn't that sad and pathetic. I thought I was ready to jump off a bridge."

I only give this movie one thumb down because it had Emma Thompson in it, whom I adore, and Robert Deniro, who is a great actor.
Bride Wars - It was just as cute as the commercials made it out to be, although the ending was a little different than I thought it would be. It was this close - to being a letdown, but then they fixed it. In addition to a really cute story line that I can kind of relate to in real life, it has Kate Hudson and Ann Hathaway in it. You don't get much more all-star than that. I love those two. My first favorite movie with Kate was The Four Feathers. If you haven't seen the latter yet, do!

I give this movie two thumbs way up!

Now its your turn. Tell me about a recent movie you watched, whether it is worth seeing or not, and give it your thumbs rating. I am all for adding your finds to my list for my viewing pleasure.

Also, I DO go back and rate the movies I rent on BB's website. A couple of the ones I have listed above only got half a star from me, and others got the maximum 5!

Oh My Gosh!

2010-04-10T21:48:00.000-07:00

Our trip to the Mayo Clinic was AWESOME! I have updated my primary blog, and you can read about all of the excitement and wonderful news here. It was worth every penny and then some!

I tried to update my blogs from my phone in the hotel last night, but apparently all I can do from the phone is type in a subject. I was a little cheesed because: 1) I was so excited to share the news, and 2) because I was so excited, I couldn't sleep!

I am so happy to finally be sharing great news! So hop on over to the above post and read all about it. :D

Thank you everyone for your support, love, and prayers as we went through all of this. I seriously couldn't have handled all of the low times without you.

We will return to our normal blogging shortly. ;)

Fantastic news will be hitting this blog tomorrow night! Stay tuned!

2010-04-09T20:04:00.001-07:00

Finally, an Update!

2010-04-06T19:31:00.000-07:00

First of all, I want to say I am sorry to all of my bloggy friends for getting so behind with my reading and commenting this past week. I have just had some major Blogger Burnout coupled with long hours working at a computer screen at work. I will be catching up soon, I promise.

With that, I give you the latest update in our battle in TTC#2. You can read all about my MRI follow-up here, should you so desire.

With that, I will end this post and do my bloogy friend duty by catching up with all of you!

I Love Technology

2010-04-04T20:46:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite lines from The Sim.psons is:

LISA: What's inside you Nelson?
NELSON: I dunno, guts, black stuff, and about 50 Sl.im J.ims

The beautiful thing about living in this day and age with all of its technology is that when you have an MRI, they send you home with a disc of your scans for your own records. Even more beautiful for me is I work in a company that creates software to view MRI scans. I can't tell you how much fun I had at work on Thursday looking at my guts in MRI format.

"There are my ovaries. There is what looks like a nice steak. There's my bum crack. I think that's my uterus, although it could be bowel. I'm not sure what all of these black and white pockets are unless they are cysts or endo."

I even had fun showing off my guts to a few interested coworkers who found it as interesting as I did.

And now, if you are interested, here is an image of my guts and black stuff, minus the 50 Sl.im J.ims.

This is a top down view. Gross and freaky, yet really cool.

Apparently I have a nice layer of thermal padding. :)

Do You Know Why You're Infertile?

2010-04-01T20:14:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I get asked by people in my life if I know what caused my infertility. I always tell them yes. When I say yes, I don't just mean that I have moderate endometriosis or that I have PCOS, but that I know what caused it.

My parents were two very fertile people. My dad managed to get my mother pregnant on their honeymoon. Yep, the classic "Honeymoon Baby." Of course everyone who liked a bit of juicy gossip waited to see when my mother delivered my brother so they could speculate and spread rumors that she was pregnant before my parents were married. My brother was two weeks early. No, my mother was not pregnant on her wedding day. No, my parents did not have premarital relations. My mother is what my dad likes to call "a fertile turtle."

So how could two very fertile folks create not only infertile offspring, but one who had an extensive case of endometriosis by the time she was 27? I'll tell you how, and it happened before I was even thought of by my parents. Before they even met. Back when they were just kids themselves.

I remember in elementary school reading about how the aftermath of the ato.m bomb dropped on Hiros.hima back in WWII had not only affected those who were alive when it was dropped, but their offspring were as well. I remember reading that the offspring of those who were alive ended up with cancer and had infertility problems. Even back then it broke my heart and made me angry as I read the story of a girl who died in a hospital in Hiros.hima at my age because she had gotten cancer from that bomb, even though she was conceived years afterward. I was so angry that Americans had done something that affected the health and fertility of the generations that came after the day En.ola G.ay dropped "Lit.tle Boy." But most of all, the fact that it affected their fertility outraged me. For months I fumed to anyone who would listen.

Shortly after I was diagnosed with endo, I found out that four of my female cousins born by my father's siblings were also having issues. One had undergone IVF, and one was just starting on Ch.lomid. I subsequently found out that one of them had been positively diagnosed with endo and had already had two laparoscopies to clean it out. In addition to them, I already knew conception was no easy feat for my sister.

One day my dad called me and told me he knew why all of us girls were infertile. When he was a boy, the government was doing a.tom bomb testing near where he grew up. He had read a study that reported the offspring of children, who are also known as "Downwinders," had a very high incidence of endometriosis. Come to find out, my mother was also a Downwinder, she just wasn't exposed at as high of a rate as my dad was.

I find it ironic that I felt such rage reading about Lit.tle B.oy making people in Japan infertile. I always knew in my heart I would have a hard time having children, but perhaps on the day I read that, I knew deep down the exact same thing was going to be my prevention too.

What I find most sad of all is that if we do go on to conceive, we pass on the code for what caused our infertility. On top of that, there are so many man-made chemicals these days that are putting children into puberty long before they should. I absolutely worry about what I passed on to my daughter. But I do find comfort in the fact that I can be proactive about ensuring I don't introduce unnecessary toxins into her by feeding her organic foods.

This isn't meant to be a Green post by any means. It is more of a post about how I am angry my fertility was taken from me before I even existed, YEARS before I existed. I am angry about the fact that I grew up knowing I would have a hard time getting pregnant. In fact, I remember the day I got my period. I was sooo excited, but that excitement was quickly smashed by the thought, "This doesn't mean you can get pregnant or have kids. You're still going to have a hard time." That day is still very vivid in my memory. I had no reason to think that either. I just knew.

I just pray that I am able to be proactive about saving my daughter from the same heartache I went through to bring her into this world. It is too bad I know why I'm infertile and can't do a dang thing about it.

Need a Laugh?

2010-03-30T14:25:00.001-07:00

Today has been a fantastic day full of smiles and laughing. I went to lunch with two of my best friends because one needed cheering up. By the time we got back to work, the cheering up had been done sufficiently, and we all just wanted to run away and party for the rest of the day, rather than come back.

Because I have been having such a great day filled with happiness and laughter, I thought I would spread the love by sharing my first picture of my daughter on this blog. This picture was taken during a weekend getaway in a hotel. The little darling LOVES to be outside and look out windows. I didn't realize what she was doing in this picture until I had downloaded it. Upon seeing it, I burst into fits of laughter. Enjoy!

Latest and Greatest

2010-03-28T20:42:00.000-07:00

Hello friends, I am about to do something I have not yet done on this blog, and that is give you the address to my primary blog. Why, you ask? Well, because I feel my current journey has made it necessary to provide access to both blogs so I don't have to write the same thing about my battle on each blog. This blog was never intended to be my battle with baby making, but rather my battle with trying to rediscover myself and get my feet firmly planted back in the ground after all of the ups and downs life had handed me since my daughter was born.

What I think I will do is days where I have info about what is going on, I will do a write up on the primary blog, and then post a link to it from here, just in case any of you want to stay in on that loop. I'll still talk about what is going on in this blog, it just won't be as detailed. The only thing I ask is that you not leave comments on that blog that can in any way direct a reader from that blog to this one. In return, I promise not to post on both blogs in the same day. We'll give it a try and see how it goes.

The primary blog can be found here.

Now that we have that out of the way, I will give you a quick update of what has been going on. I went in for an MRI this past weekend that revealed that my endometriosis is back. I have new growths, and if I heard the radiologist correctly, they were around or near my ovaries. I know there were growths removed from that area during my laparoscopy back in 2007. I wasn't surprised to hear it was back, but sad and disappointed. It seems like it has come back way too fast. The radiologist also said she thinks my septum has grown back a little. Once again, I am in that lovely category of things that rarely happen. Hoorah! Don't feel bad. I don't. I just take it all with a grain of salt these days. Like I said, I think my days of being really upset are behind me now.

If you want to read a really cool story about my MRI, check out the primary blog. It will explain partly why...

I have decide I am going to have the surgery and get pregnant!

I am only doing this one more time. I just feel like I have to, and while many people ask me not to, I have to go with what feels right. I know all of the risks, and I know that my pregnancy will be very carefully monitored. My husband says he will support me no matter what I decide, and that we will take things as they come. I spent most of today feeling like we needed to hurry up and do this because we are running out of time. My reproductive organs just don't want to work on their own, so we'll force them to give us one more child, and then they can take the rest of my life off.

All of the blessings that have come about by this have not been lost on me. One of the biggest is that I can now be on my antidepressants for the 9 months my doctor recommended before going off of them. I really love those silly pills because they make handling all of this craziness so much easier. I don't go off the deep end like I would have otherwise, and I bounce back really quickly. Today you would think I had the sun shinning out of my ass as I walked out of the hospital after my MRI. I couldn't stop smiling the whole way home. My husband thought I was a freak when I told him with a huge grin on my face that my endo is back. I told him I couldn't help it, and that it was the stupid pills. Eh, whatever. They make me feel good. They're my friends.

The next step from here is go back to see my new RE here in town to discuss the MRI results, then visit the RE at the May.o Clinic, then surgery, then a couple months off to let things heal, and then TTC #2!

I hope you all had a great weekend. I can't wait to catch up on blogs tomorrow. :)

Waterloooo

2010-03-27T21:44:00.000-07:00

My dad grew up a Country Boy, and so he listened to the good 'ol classic country. During one of his visits to my house he downloaded all of the music he owns from his iP.od to my computer. Being a daddy's girl through and through, I like to put some of this music on the iP.od I keep in my bathroom so I can listen to it and think of the days when I was a little girl, sitting in his office listening to this same music with him as he worked.

I listen to music everywhere I go and every chance I get. When I get ready for work in the morning, bathe the baby, and take a shower at night, my iP.od is blaring away. The other day I was getting ready for work, or maybe even bed, when it started playing a little ditty called, "Waterloo," by Sto.newall Ja.ckson. The tune itself caught my attention, and then I started to listen to the words. I think I replayed it a couple of times because it was not only catchy, but I applied the lyrics to the my current life situation.

For your viewing and listening pleasure, I give you, "Waterloo," set to pictures of my part of Texas. Enjoy!

Hello God, Can We Talk?

2010-03-25T20:14:00.000-07:00

As with every other day over the last month+, my emotions took a new turn today from that of yesterday. Today I have calmed down and was doing my best to stick to my resolution of not trying to make a decision on this mess until after all three of my appointments. I did a great job of it. Instead, I tried to visualize my life being just the three of us forever and being happy with that. I told DH about that thought this morning. He asked if I could really be happy with that. Yes, I can. I know I can.

I looked in the mirror this morning as I was brushing my teeth and asked myself why all of this was so important. Its not.

I have a wonderful life. I have a beautiful family complete with a husband, a beautiful baby girl, two dogs, a fish, and a newt. This is perfection.

I slowly came down from my anger and bitterness. This was the plan all along. To come to a resolution as soon as possible, to get my feet back on the ground, and to be in a place mentally where I could move forward happily with my life. I have taken time to dwell in my grief, and I don't think that time is completely over yet, but honestly, I think the worst is behind me now. I am learning to accept this. This is my Waterloo (one day I will explain that).

My best friend JD has been struggling with me in my grief. She has been trying so hard to help me find answers and to bring me peace and comfort. She has been with me every step of the way, offering anything and everything she can, including her womb. At times I don't know how I got so blessed as to deserve her friendship. Today she helped me a great deal. She googled, "Why do ba.d thi.ngs happen to go.od people?" She found this article. If you have time, are in a place where you need an answer to this question, or just want to reaffirm God's love for us, read it. I can tell you, I needed it today, and it opened my eyes.

What I learned is that God loves me the way I love my daughter. He understands that I get angry with Him, want to shout in His face, and don't talk to Him for days on end. But when I am ready to talk, He is there, with open arms and all of His tender mercies. When I was weeping over my situation and feeling like I was going to break into pieces, He was there, weeping with me.

I learned that even though God is the alpha and omega, the beginning and the end, sometimes even He cannot step into the situations in our lives because of free agency, because there are laws that govern even Him. Does He wish this situation for me? No. Did He do this to me? No, and I never thought so.

I was reminded of why I always think the way I do, that everything happens for a reason, and that we don't always know why in the moment. When I was going through infertility to get my daughter, I never thought God had done it to me and that He wasn't blessing me. As hard as it was and as much as it hurt, I knew there was a reason. I just didn't know what it was, until I learned I was pregnant.

Had I not had to fight so hard to win my daughter, I would have taken entirely too much of her life for granted. The blessing of bearing a child and bringing into this world would have been lost on me. Not completely, mind you, but I wouldn't have appreciated it in the capacity I do now. I see too many people taking their pregnancies and children for granted, and it makes me sad. If they only knew....

I admit, I don't know the reason for this problem right now. I have said that all along. And on that same note, I have never said that there wasn't one. Why? Because God knows there is, and it is up to me to find out what it is. It might not be after my appointments, in the next month, year, or even until the end of my life, but there is a reason for this and a lesson to be learned. Maybe that reason is for me to be able to reach out to other women who struggle with infertility. To give me more compassion than I might have otherwise had. Maybe it is to teach me that nothing is ever black and white. I can tell you, there have been a few steps in this journey where I gave myself a few B**** slaps for things I have said or thought about people in my past. I have also issued sincere apologies to those people.

Right now, I am humbled, and I am ready to talk to God. Just as I know I would be if my daughter had ranted over my decision to not allow her to do something I thought could harm her, I know He never left me, gave up on me, or was angry with me for being angry with him. He loves me, and He will guide me in my decision.

Emotional Tornado

2010-03-24T20:15:00.000-07:00

The last 36 hours have been a seriously big emotional tornado. As I am new to tornado territory, so I'm not sure how they scale those things (as in Level 4, etc.), but I can tell you, it was a pretty big one. I am probably temporarily in the eye of the storm right now. I am trying to quell it by telling myself there is nothing I can do about any of it right now. I'm having an MRI done this Friday, and then I will have a consult with my new RE, and then my second opinion consult with the May.o RE in April. Until all three of those things are done, I need to just let this go. I can't make a decision until I have all of the information in my hand that the trifecta will provide me.

All of that said, I am once again thankful for my antidepressants. They are the awesomest things in the world. They don't prevent me from feeling during these rough patches, but they help me level out quicker and not sink as far when I do get caught up. Who knew something I fought so hard against would turn out to be such a blessing?

I went to the shrink today, and for the first half of my session I ranted and raved about my situation, how it wasn't fair, why God wasn't helping me, why he was placing his babies in the wombs of crack addicts and abusive people. My shrink talked me down from that ledge as best as she could, and tried to get me back on speaking terms with God. I'm closer to talking to him than I was this morning. I still want to ask him where all of this makes sense though.

The last half of the session was talking through the pros and cons of going forward with a pregnancy. Can I just say I feel like a selfish ass when people cry and tell me they don't want me to go forward with this because they don't want to lose me? My OB's eyes welled up when I told her I was going forward with it, and today my shrink cried when she told me she didn't want me to risk it. I feel so calloused when I look at the tears in their eyes and say this is what I want. I feel horrible when my eyes don't well up too.

For now, just as on my primary blog, I will not talk about any of this again until I get my MRI results back. There is just no point. I need to put all of this on the back burner and live my life right now.

Numb

2010-03-24T09:04:00.000-07:00

You know where I went wrong all of these years? I do. I have been acting like a stupid teenager who thinks they are immortal. Its like I have been hearing everything all of these doctors have been telling me, but it has stupidly gone in one ear and out the other. Hence my continual optimism. If I didn't "hear" it, it wasn't said, and therefore must not be true. They must be talking about someone else.

Right now I am having a really hard time with facing the reality of the situation. I walked into that RE's office with a freaking smile on my face. I was so sure he was going to tell me what I wanted to hear, and I would skip out of there with a surgery date and a planned conception date for six months later. I also thought that surely my employer would understand all of this, not complain, and hold my job.

On top of that, I know I have endo, but that is a diagnosis that does not belong to me. Or so I thought. Endo isn't that bad. Or so I thought. This RE was more concerned with controlling my endo than he was anything else. Why? Because it is like a cancer. It can spread throughout your entire body. You would think I would know this, considering they found it on my bladder. Women with endo cannot let their insurance lapse, or they become uninsurable. You would think hearing that would shake reality into me. Nope! I'm immortal!

The real bitch about this whole thing right now is facing the facts. How do I pound this reality into my brain so that I can digest it and move on with my life? I am NOT immortal, and a pregnancy could kill me. So why can't I get it through my thick skull that I shouldn't move forward? Why am I so stupid I can't figure it out? Its black and white to everyone else. Why isn't it clear cut to me? Where is my malfunction? Do I need to remove the plastic tab that keeps the battery separated from the button that makes the bells and whistles on the toy go off when pushed?

I can't move on until I face this. But I'm not ready to face this. I can't bring myself to accept the fact that I am broken and irreparable. I can't bring myself to face the reality that if I have any more children, they will not be incubated in me. There is a wall disconnecting my wants and emotions from reality, and I need to learn how to break it down.

I guess I know what I will be talking about with the shrink this afternoon.

I Was Wrong

2010-03-23T18:33:00.001-07:00

I wish that I knew last week what I know today. Actually, I did know, I just chose to ignore those feelings and replace them with what I wanted. As Adam on Myt.hbusters says, "I reject your reality and substitute my own."

My appointment went the way it should have, and not how I so stupidly dreamed it would.

Diagnosis: Your F*cked Up.

Professional Opinion: If you go forward with pregnancy, you're a f*cking idiot. Pray that God has you, your baby, and your pregnancy gently in His hands.

Fame Status: You're 1 in a million baby, and everyone in Texas is talking about you. (No, really, they are. Doctors are calling my new RE to ask about my case because they are afraid for their patients with septum removals. Why? Because this never happens. It is so rare. Hooray for me! I am so glad I get to be that person.)

Where I Am: Can I please just forget all of this happened? Can I just move forward with the knowledge that my daughter is all I will ever have and forget that I am broken? Can I just forget that I have failed?

How I Feel: ANGRY. God and I need to have a talk.

Right now I am just not in the mood to talk about any of this. I don't want to talk about the appointment and what I was told. I don't want to talk about the million directions my mind is going. I don't want to talk about how I'm trying to process this. I don't want to talk about my options. I don't want to be optimistic or look on the bright side right now. I just want to shove it all to the recesses of my mind and forget about it.

Where Did My Positivity Go? I think it leaked out the hole in my uterus along with my chances of bearing more children.

For the first time ever, this infertile doesn't want to talk about it.

Thank God for antidepressants and shrinks.

Hooray for ICLW!

2010-03-21T00:00:00.000-07:00

Dear ICLW readers,

Welcome to my lovely blog and life adventure. This blog was created last fall when I realized after battling years of infertility and finally bringing a baby into this world, I was dealing with PTSD from said infertility as well as post partum depression. While my infertility story was not a secret from anyone in my real life, this battle was very private. I have a primary blog that was started during my treatment days and still exists to this day, but everyone in my real life has access to it. I knew I needed support and encouragement from women who were struggling or had struggled with what I was going through, so I started this blog and invented my secondary ego, Saige.

My intention had always been to keep both blogs separate, and to rarely let their paths cross. I wanted to keep my identity on this one a secret to prevent folks in my real life from stumbling across it and learning of the inner battles I had been working so hard to hide from them. I didn't want them to know I was depressed, on antidepressants, or seeing a shrink to deal with my issues.

Then last month, my blogs collided two days before ICLW when I found out the uterine rupture, which was the result of my daughter's placenta attaching to scar tissue from a septum removal, had not healed in the way we had hoped, and plunged me back into the world of not being able to TTC once more. Before that day, DH and I had held out hope everything was healing correctly and we would be back at trying for #2 after that day. Instead of being told we were good to start trying again, I was told if I did it would have devastating consequences. I needed love and support from all of my blog friends to help get me through this rough spot, and one blog author met the other on LFCA.

Since that day, I have had an HSG performed to more fully understand the situation. DH and I have opted for surgery and are meeting with an RE on Tuesday to talk about options. We are also seeking a second opinion on surgery from an RE at the May.o Clinic in April. I have been to see the shrink a few times to talk through my feelings on being back in this situation, how it is different from the first time, how much riskier it is, and how I still absolutely want to do it.

I know what is on the line, and just how much is at stake, but friends, I am here to tell you, once you win the battle the first time, the desire to fight for another one does not diminish. I want another baby just as much as I wanted the first, and so I am willing to put my life on the line to get it. We just hope it doesn't come to that. I just need to do this one more time to provide my husband with some of the childREN he always wanted, and my daughter with at least one sibling. I feel like if I can't do that, then I have failed. So this infertile chooses to the play the hand she has been dealt.

Since the creation of this blog, I have never looked back or regretted a second of it. Is it a lot of work to upkeep two blogs and follow two sets of blogs? Not really. I follow around 85 blogs between the two of them, and most of the time manage to keep up very well. Every now and then I fall behind a bit, but I do my best to be there for each and everyone of my blog friends.

So there you have it, the purpose behind this blog tied up in a neat little package. I hope you have enjoyed your stay, and I look forward to meeting new friends as the week continues.

Sincerely,
Saige

For the Love of a Dog

2010-03-18T20:17:00.000-07:00

Okay, I had to have a bit of doggie fun after my last couple posts in which I ranted about CDL. I realize you must all think I'm a wack job, as no one except my IRL friends justified me with comments in my last post about her. I think that is because they know I'm really not a nut case. Thanks girls! I love you so much and am so glad you are here to support me!

So, a couple of weekends ago I took one of my BFFs to an Irish festival that was in town. She has been having a rough go at life lately, loves EVERYTHING Irish, and needing a day out to just enjoy herself. We had a blast. My husband didn't, but the girls did, and that is all that mattered that day. We toured hundreds of booths peddling Irish fare. I bought a new dress for the renaissance festivals they have here in Texas twice a year and that DH and I LOVE to go to, and my BF bought a gorgeous green bodice. We dress up for these festivals and have a great time. My BF now intends to go to said festivals with us.

It was during our booth touring that I came across a Scottish booth. Okay, I am seriously in love with Scotland and all things Scottish. My husband and I visited there a couple of years ago when we were in the thick of infertility treatments. It was a much needed and deserved break. If I could live anywhere in the world, it would be Scotland. On top of being a completely gorgeous land, Border Collies come from Scotland. In fact, Sadie's daddy is from Scotland (I always ask her if he had an accent). So when we visited there, I bought tons of BC stuff because you don't really see it here that often (when I do, I buy it).

The thing that first attracted me to the booth was this pair of socks.

Of course I had to buy them! Then on further inspection I found these socks to go with the others.

Guess who was in heaven? Me!

The sales lady got wind of me and it all went down hill from there. Before I knew it I had this pillow cover in my hand to go with my socks.

Then I had their last BC Christmas ornament in which I can write my dog's names. A magnet for my car that says "I *heart* my Border Collie", and a stuffed BC for the Munchkin (which she loves and sleeps with in her crib).

My husband had to walk away to keep from seeing me go nuts over so much BC stuff, and my friend just sat there and laughed. I couldn't help it. I so rarely see BC stuff, and then it was in a Scottish booth to top it all off!

But the best two BCs at the end of the day are right here, under my roof with me.

They are sitting in front of Sven, my husband's mannequin that he intends to use to make himself leather armor (or so he said when he bought the leather and Sven 4 years ago) for said renaissance festivals. Sadie is hiding his "Man Junk." Good pup!

In closing I would like to say that I really am a very sane person and not weird in any way, even though I realize some of my posts on this blog can make me appear that way. If you want or need proof of my sanity, let me know and I will provide you with my primary blog address. :)

Two Years Ago

2010-03-15T20:21:00.000-07:00

A Tribute to the Man Who is My Everything

The stars and the moon in my sky
My sanity in an insane world
The rock who is my firm foundation
The glue who keeps me together
The father of my daughter
My All
My Everything

To the man who hates having his picture taken
And never takes off his sunglasses

I Love You Anyway

XOXO

Blast!

2010-03-14T08:48:00.000-07:00

I was all set to book airfare right after I got home from work on Friday for our trip to the May.o Clinic in three weeks. I was totally excited and couldn't wait. Then DH reminded me it is our neighbor's wedding the day after.

Blast it all!

I told him surely our neighbor would understand.

DH told me I should reschedule our appointment for the following week. That I have waited this long and it wouldn't hurt me to wait another week.

*insert lots of grumbling and swearing under my breath*

As if this whole thing hasn't already been delayed long enough. But what do you do? The guy is a good friend of ours, and it was an honor that he invited us, so we can't bail now.

Not only that, but DH pointed out tonight that he doesn't want to fly all the way to the clinic just to have a 15 minute consult. He wants to make sure they are going to do tests, take notes, etc. And if they are going to do tests, I need to make sure we are there long enough to get them done.

Good point babe.

So I'm going to call back tomorrow and ask for the doctor to call me back so I can speak with her personally to determine what are initial consult will be fore and what, if anything, we need to do. Hopefully we can get in the following week.

BOO!

I Know

2010-03-13T19:46:00.000-08:00

Psycho is the only word that comes to mind when talking about Crazy Dog Lady (CDL). My husband and friends tell me I focus too much on our encounters, but I think they are missing why she gets me so fired up and why it lasts for so long.

Every encounter with her is a bag on me. As Border Collies, my dogs are a direct reflection of me. She is calling into question my ability to train and control my dogs. It is the same as her walking past me without my dogs and telling me to control myself when I hadn't said or done anything to her, when I was minding my own business. As someone who has spent the majority of her life around dogs, training them, and going to dog school just to properly socialize my dogs, I take hits to my dogs very personally. They are fanstastic dogs. Do they get a little out of line sometimes? Sure, who doesn't? But on the days she attacked my dogs and me, neither one of them was stepping a toe out of line.

After our little rift on Tuesday, I spent ALL DAY Wednesday fuming and having preparatory verbal battles in my head. I told all of my friends and coworkers about what had happened. They were SHOCKED this woman got me to be so verbal, and some of them even offered to go to battle against her with me just for the good of all mankind.

Because I had focused so much energy on her Wednesday, I woke up in a funk Thursday morning. I was blue and I didn't care about much. My good friend J told me I was in an emotional withdrawal, which is quite true. Things that normally make me happy didn't budge my blues. I just didn't have the energy to put into emotions.

Anyway, sorry to talk about her so much, but if you have been following my blog for any length of time, you know that I use this blog as an outlet for stuff like this. It is a therapy and a hope. A hope that the people whom these types of posts are about will somehow come across them and read them. Why don't I just tell them about them or say these things in person? Because I am the epitome of passive aggressive. I don't need to be in anyone's face to let feelings go, I just need an outlet somewhere, and this blog is it for me. Writing about it all seriously makes me feel better. It allows me to get the battle out of my head and off my mind so I can move on.

If you actually read this post, feel free to validate me with a comment. :p

This Just In!

2010-03-12T14:25:00.000-08:00

I have an appointment with an RE at the May.o Clinic on April 2!

PROGRESS!!!

Relator

2010-03-11T19:34:00.001-08:00

I thought it was time to once again share one of my Top 5 traits. When I first took my quiz, I was surprised this one wasn't in my #1 or even #2 spot. Its Relator.

The definition of a Relator is:

Relator describes your attitude toward your relationships. In simple terms, the Relator theme pulls you toward people you already know. You do not necessarily shy away from meeting new people -- in fact, you may have other themes that cause you to enjoy the thrill of turning strangers into friends. You are comfortable with intimacy. Once the initial connection has been made, you deliberately encourage a deepening of the relationship. You want to understand their feelings, their goals, their fears, and their dreams; and you want them to understand yours.

This is very true. One of the things I enjoy most is to make friends of the people who are not personable. There are a few people in my office who do not make contact with others, let alone smile at others when passing. It took some doing on my part, but I eventually broke them down and they now not only smile to me in passing, they stop and converse with me. When that connection is made, it makes my day. And every day I talk to one of those people or say hello as we pass in the hall, it actually gives me a bit of a high.

The same thing goes for blogging. I love it when I make blog friends and we have a connection through comments. I have some blog friends whom I have never met (well, that is all of you), but that I care about just as deeply as I do people IRL. I celebrate your triumphs and grieve your losses just as I would with a best friend IRL. I am glad to know all of you and share a friendship with you.

A Letter

2010-03-09T20:23:00.000-08:00

Dear Crazy Dog Lady,

I want to start out by saying that I feel really bad for you. I realize that your unprovoked and neurotic attacks on me on the walking trail are a direct result of your miserable, lonely, and presumably divorced life. I further want to add that I feel sorry for you in that you seem to honestly believe that this world revolves around you, that you are the center of the universe, and that your demands, wants, and needs must be fulfilled before anyone else's in this world (oh wait, is there anyone else in this world?). I am sure it must be very hard when your grocery shopping is done mainly in the "Meals for One" section, and when you have to buy your mangy, malnourished cocker spaniels O.l R.oy Dinne.r Rou.nds, but that is no reason to take your sad life on anyone else.

I don't understand why you feel the need to take your miserable life out on me, a complete stranger who was minding her own business, walking her dogs with her infant, and trying to enjoy a walk that was much needed for relaxation and therapeutic reasons, and without taking into account what battles I might be fighting in this world. I did nothing to you. I said nothing to you. And in fact, had you not felt the need to be so completely heinous to me, I would have treated you like any other person on that walking trail, which is to say I would have smiled politely and told you hello.

I realize that you have some serious neurosis going on, and I wish that for the sake of all dog owners on that trail that you would seek help. I know a great doctor who can prescribe you some wonderful anti-depressants along with some Xa.nnex (which you can take before hitting the trails), as well as a beyond wonderful psychologist who can help you work through your anger against the world.

I would like you to note, while not screaming over the top of me, that my dogs are very well trained and very well behaved. Had you taken two seconds to take your tunnel vision off of yourself, you would notice that my dogs could care less about you or you sickly looking dogs. They are Border Collies. When they go to "work" (i.e., walks and play fetch), they are focused on ONE thing and ONE THING ONLY, and that is the task at hand. Last time you decided to scream at me at the top of your lungs, my dogs, much like you to us, didn't notice your existence as they lay quietly by my feet waiting for the next ball to be thrown. Why? Because they are trained! I have yet to be told they are anything less than amazing dogs by anyone but you. Should you require it, I am sure I can have literally over 100 people write up letters of recommendation for my dogs and their behavior.

Had you not opened your pie hole tonight, I would have never noticed you on the trail, and would have gone home thinking how blessed I was to not have encountered you. You very obviously did not notice that I was enjoying pointing out all of the duckies to my daughter as my dogs also looked on at them (not you or your mutts). But no, you could not pass by me in silence. Of course not. What would this world be if you didn't ruin someone else's evening? *GASP!* Just as with every single other time we encounter one another, you opened your hole and spewed hateful words at me to provoke yet another fight.

I am not a confrontational person at all. In fact, I am so nonconfrontational I ate lunch in the library my entire 8th grade year to prevent having to fight a couple of girls who had a misunderstanding with a friend of mine and me. The fact that you are so easily able to bring the fight out of me says a lot about you, and it isn't good. In fact, when I tell people of our encounters, they can't believe you got me riled up to the point of shouting back because it isn't in my nature.

I haven't done anything to you, never have, never will, so please, next time we pass each other on the trail, please for the love of God and everything holy, keep your dad-blasted yap shut and let me enjoy my walk in peace!

In closing I would like to share a favorite quote with you that goes something like this, "Be kinder than is necessary to everyone you meet, for we are all fighting our own battles." I'll paint it on something ceramic for you and swing it by.

Sincerely,
Your Fed Up Neighbor

P.S. Yes, I had my friends follow you home and I now know you where live too. Big freakidy woop.

For those of you to whom this letter is not addressed and would like a little back story, see these posts:

A Bit of Fun

2010-03-08T20:44:00.001-08:00

After all of the seriousness on my blogs lately, I decided it is time to do something a little fun by telling you about some of the funniest days of my past. This was before I met DH and hung out with my best friend, Nate.

As I have said before, Nate and I hung out every single Friday and on the occasional Saturday when he didn't have to work. We always had so much fun together. Even when life just plain sucked, we had each other to cheer us up. One spring we decided to take a trek downtown for a bit of fun with some black and white film. We were kind of goofy, but we always had a blast. So now I give you, Fun in Black and White!

First up we have a picture of a very humiliated, dilapidated bike.

This bike had been chained to the pole just like this for over two years. I don't know if it is still there, but every time Nate and I saw it we would laugh and make jokes. In the winter when the snow fell, this bike frame could be seen sticking up just above the inches of accumulation. Even the thought of this poor thing still makes me laugh. But seriously, could we have taken a more artistic picture? (Doesn't being in black and white automatically make it artistic?)

Next up we have what I liked to call, "The Cal.vin Kli.en Pose." This is a pose in which I try to be serious with a slight smile on my face. What I was looking at, we'll never know.

I mean, look at that gorgeous subject matter. It was such a beautiful spring day, and apparently no jacket was necessary. I sure did love those Do.c Mar.tins too. Those were the best shoes.

Now we have Nate, taking time to stop and smell the blossoms.

What a fantastic picture. How often do you see guy of Nate's caliber stopping to smell the new spring blossoms of a fruitless tree? The answer to that is not very. If I remember correctly, those blossoms either didn't smell, or they stunk. I'm going with the latter just for comedic purposes.

And Finally, I present you with trying to look gorgeous in 80% humidity and a misting rain at Mt. Ver.non in Virginia.

I think my dad took this picture, as Nate was clear on the other side of the country while I was out visiting my sister. In fact, this picture was taken just weeks after I met and hooked up with my DH. Guess who I was thinking about when this one was taken?

I hope you have enjoyed this happy ride down memory lane and that it evoked even a small smile (even if that smile was only in your head).

My next post will most likely be back to everything serious. Until then, enjoy looking at the bike.

As Nate and I always used to say, "We're so cool. I wish we were us."

Slow Progress

2010-03-06T20:05:00.001-08:00

First of all I want to say I am really behind on blogs again. I have so much going on and not enough hours in the day to do it all. My work has been suffering, and it did not escape the notice of my PM, so now I will be scrambling to get back on his good side the next few weeks.

I issued the call for specialists on my primary blog and a few of my readers referred me to the Ma.yo Clinic's infertility department. I made a call on Friday and spent a lot of time on hold as they tracked down the doctor who would best be able to handle my case and gave him the skinny. Long story short, he wants to see my records to determine if he can help us before he tells us to fly out there. That in and of itself tells me if he can, I am in good hands. He isn't just a money grubbing doctor who will tell me he can cast a spell on my uterus and make it whole.

Sadly, I know getting my records from my current doctor's office could take a week or more. I am hoping if I let them know the situation I can get them to expedite it, as my fertile life is on hold until Dr. G can review them.

The one good thing is that I do still have an appointment with a specialist here on the 23rd, but unless he tells me something he didn't already tell me through my OB, he can't help us. He thinks he can, but he can't. We're not okay with him just slicing, dicing, and sewing things back together. We want him to not only minimize the scar tissue left behind, but to put in some kind of barrier that will prevent eggs from implanting into it again. Maybe he can do that. We'll just have to wait and see.

Anyway, that's all I have for tonight. I'm exhausted from spending the day at an Irish festival and I have blogger's block. Hopefully I will catch up on blogs soon and have something more interesting to write about.