I Need Help

Ok… I recently (ok not recently..but a couple of months ago) wrote about one of my very best friends who is pregnant but the baby has been diagnosed with Anencephaly.

So here’s where I need help.  She found out last week that the baby is a girl.  She still on target with everything (the exception being the condition– things still look as though the doctors have provided the correct diagnosis).

I want to make her something for the baby because I don’t want to ignore the pregnancy BUT the chances of the baby living through to due date is slim, the chances of her tolerating birth are slimmer, and surviving for more than a few days outside of the womb are even slimmer than those two.

Its not a matter of money– but sensitivity.  Where is the line?  Should I make her something for the baby mainly?  Should I make it for her?  Should i even make something but rather get a gift card or something (im not too keen on that since it seems so impersonal)?

 

I just don’t know what would be appropriate.

 

Help me please if you have a suggestion!

 

I am not … (another thought vomit)

Yep, Mother’s Day is always a reminder of this.

Television commercial: Mom with the children (notice how it seems like its always younger children?), Hubs with the “gift from baby” (usually jewelry). Or how about the commercial of “mom’s knows best”.  I don’t get any of that– I am not a mother.

The corsages in church, given to women younger than myself through to that woman who is everyones “nana”. I walk with no corsage because I am not a mother.

I have planned and prepared for birth that I may very well never get to experience.  I have researched medical issues that will get filed away in my brain never to be used. I have dreamed and hoped. I have never been pregnant- I am not a mother.

 

I am a wanna be.  I have tried to be- but I’ve failed.  I have no hope of becoming a mother by any means (except naturally– which in way provides any kind of hope or expectation) in the next five to ten years.

My dogs are not children though they may have been gotten to subsitute- to fill a void- to give me something to care for.  I love my dogs and that will not change, but they are not children.  I am not their mother, I am their owner and their caretaker.  I can be replaced without much thought (though I wouldn’t give up my dogs for anything). 

 

The frist year we were married…Mother’s day came about six months into this journey.  The hubbs bought me a card because I would be the mother of his children– we still had the hope, we were still sure that this would happen for us.  That it would be the last year I would not be a mother. I cried because I was happy that this man who married me already saw me as the mother of his children and was so excited to be the father of my children.  Yet here we are.  Three years later– I am still not a mother and I cry over that.  Even the Hubbs doesn’t look at me in that way because– children may very well not be in our future. It really is quite painful to think of them at this point.  So now it is just a day we avoid.  We go no-where.  Our phone calls are quick- and not even made on the day.

I call my Grandmother and Mother the day before–wish them the very best as they celebrate the day with family.  I love them both so much that I would not have them think I miss the day by callin late.  My step-mother, well she can wait til after.   

I know some women take solace in the thought that they are mother’s of the heart.  I definatly think so of those women who’ve had to go through losing their children- early m/c, still-birth, unfortunate accidents at any point in life, illness- should very much be honored on this day.  Though not in the same way as mothers with living children.  Mother’s day for these women should be a day of support- in the way she needs the support and not by how others THINK she should be supported (if that makes any sense).

But for me, a woman who hasn’t conceived at all.. in any stage– I am not a mother.

I think (for me) that to think of myself as a mother without children just makes things that much worse.  Its like saying I am a lawyer because I wish it to be so, because I’ve gotten the schooling, invested the time, invested the money, stayed up late nights, but have taken the tests and failed them.  Just because I have all the experience that all other lawyers had before they became lawyers- I haven’t passed the tests.  So that would leave me as a wanna be.

Same with fertility.  I would love to be.  I have done all the things fertile have done for as long as humans have lived and died on this earth, without the same outcome.

So this is part of my mantra as Mother’s day comes.  I am not a mother, the day doesn’t apply to me just as foreign holidays do not apply to me and i go on with my day as normal. I don’t dwell on it or worry (yeah right– I wish– but this is my aim anyway).  While I know that won’t be totally true.. and that I still need to acknowledge the day for the sake of the women in my life- in my head I  need to get the point in there.  Dwelling on what I don’t have, or on how I think things should be or what I think I should be doesn’t change things.  It just makes me more upset.  It makes me less content .  I lose my peace.  I won’t think of “maybe next year”.  I’ll ignore the questions from family.  I’ll hide out in my living room- eating ferrero rocher and watching “non-mom” flicks from my own movie collection (the Rocky Series sounds good, or maybe even Lord of the Rings, or I could go through the first six seasons of Smallville).  No commercials, no families, no bellies.

I’ll make it through this year and figure out how to get on with my life.  Seriously, I am infertile.  That is what I am because I don’t just suffer from infertility.  Its in my life everyday, and has become apart of who I am.  Its a label that I can place in the “describe me” column, but its not only what I am.  Somehow I have to get over the dream and focus on something else.

I don’t know what that would be though. Some women throw themselves into their career- yet I don’t have one.  I don’t particularly want one either.  There isn’t anything I love enough to commit myself and our limited finances toward.  I keep house as well as I can between the hubbs’ lack of caring and my medical issues that tire me out pretty quickly.  I crochet– and don’t plan any baby projects for quite some time after im done with the ones Im on.  I am teaching myself to knit.  I hopefully will teach myself to quilt once we have some extra cash. I’ll help my man with what I can. What to do that will not have anything to do with the reproductive issue I no longer want to think about to focus on or mourn over.  It is what it is.  Nothing we can do about it now or in the near future.

Does it mean that things won’t bother me?  No.  I think I’ll still be sensitive to things, but that will be others bringing it to me and not bringing myself to it (if that makes sense). After this particular frame of subscription on fertilityfriend, I’ll not be subscribing again.   I’ll start there..and see where I end up.

 

enough babbling… Im goin to bed.

 

Waiting

So apparently my brother is scared (as would be natural with an unplanned pregnancy).

He’s taken his girlfriend to the doctor…and now Im waiting for the yes or no from him.

Actually, I expect (knowing my little bro) that if its yes, I’ll get one short phone call and then another - much longer phone call in the middle of the night.

 

So…we wait

 

ETA:

She isn’t… WHEW…

and AF showed too…so CD 1… cycle 43

 

Thought Vomit

Sigh.

All these hits and Im sure there are more to come, just by the nature of things.  My period is due to start at some point, but I am not entirely sure when since I don’t particularly know when I O’d this time around.  I ended up takin my temps for the majority of this cycle simply because I couldn’t pinpoint the date–which of course leads me to believe that it was an annov cycle- even though fertility friend pulls up three different dates on each of their monitoring methods.  I say no because none of my signs happened.

I know my period will start soon because all of a sudden all my symptoms started and today I started to spot.  So I am guessing tonight or tomorrow.   Have I mentioned here that this would be the end of cycle #42? 

I just feel like I am complaining more lately and I don’t particularly like it.  I was doing so well for a while but everything just piles up all at the same time and it gets so overwhelming.  Its kind of like treading water at the shoreline.  I could set my feet on firm ground whenever I please, whenever I tired, or whenever I just couldn’t hold on any longer.  Only I’ve been somehow swept away by a current without my knowledge, and I’ve gone to set my feet on the ground I thought was there, but end up drowning instead.

:::

I kind of want to garden but my yard is a barren desert where nothing but weeds grow and the dogs roll around in the dust (and droolin all over each other making a nice muddy mess).  I keep seeing things on the television and in magazines about plants and things but with the watering restrictions (I have been reported by one of my lousy neighbors for watering the yard on off days–even though there were two vacant houses directly across the street at the time so they obviously were not using their ‘water’ days) my attempt at reseeding the backyard failed quite completely.  My herbs (sweet basil and oregano) on the kitchen window sill are growing nicely though, for that I am grateful.  At least I can grow something somewhere.

:::

Anyone know where I can get some lavender honey?  Our commissary only carry’s clover and its not exactly my favorite.  The hubbs picked up a medium sized bottle without reading so I have a bottle of clover honey sitting in the pantry with no reason for me to use it.   Anyone want an unopened jar of clover honey?

Im going to bed…im tired

physically, mentally, emotionally just BLEH

 

 

National Foster Care Month

May is National Foster Care month ladies and gents!  It is estimated that there are approximately 513,000 children in the U.S. foster care system.

For more information about what kinds of things you can do-be it you have a few minutes, hours, days, etc… visit Fostercaremonth.org.       

 

 

 

And the Hits just keep on coming

my brother’s girlfriend may still very well be pregnant.  If she wasn’t the first time she went it—now she may be.

Nausea

tender breasts

a true missed period

actual vomitting

food adversion

bloating

 

Her biggest worry is what her parents will say…

Not worried that she doesn’t have a job or any life expereince.  Not that my brother is currently unable to walk himself anywhere and has a history of ditching jobs and mooching off friends.

AND…

she’s on the pill.  She transitioned down to a lower dose hormone pill…this is her first packet.

 and yet..

Shes excited that she may very well have her “first mothers day” in a couple weeks.

 

She may get her first mothers day…and I’ve been waiting on mine for years.

 

 

 

Can I also Say….

my hands are fugly…

 

and it mades me really sad

 

Frustration Explained

So there are a few parts to this so I’ll just start with what started the ARGH feeling.

Apparently my mother in law is callin my husband specifically for the purpose of asking about grandkids. 

She needs to drop it.  She needs to shut up and quit harassing him because it stresses him out and as a result me.  She doesn’t talk to me about it anymore cause I told her more than one (most recently in Febuary) that as soon as I am she’ll know but not to ask anymore.  It doesn’t help anyone.  She called him and specifcally said “when are you gonna make me a grandma?  You know Im still waiting”.

Well, la-de-freakin-da….SHES waiting.  Well because of that we’ll get right to it!  Hip to… strip now… lets make a baby!  She’s waiting…

My mom and step dad too.  My younger brother’s girlfriend thought she was pregnant and before they knew for sure they told our parents.  They were so excited…when they called me… all they kept saying was “We were hoping it would be you first, but oh well” “You guys have been married forever, we’d thought you’d be the first”.

Then when they found out she wasn’t it was right back to it “We’re waiting on you” “ok, so when … “.

It enough to make you want to rip your hair out.

 

On top of that is this class the hubbs signed up for–before knowing that he was goin to be in and out with field problems.  So I’ve been doing the work and just giving him the notes so he can take the tests.  The end of the class was in the middle of his last field work-up.  So they extended it and I’ve been able to get most of it done…but he’s going out again so he still won’t be able to finish in the time so I was waiting for his advisor to come back from her vacation so that she could process another extention.  I ended up having to do it thorugh someone else but it got done so now at least that is one more thing off my back.

I am hoping my mother makes the payment for the car tomorrow… its kind of stressin me out. I don’t want to call her though cause Im still a bit miffed about the whole child-bearing guilt crap they pulled on me.

And insensitive people on fertility friend.  That was the icing on the cake!  There is one chick that- since I had to renew- I have been avoiding.  She gets under my skin in the best of times and seriously offended me around thanksgiving of last year. She told me that she would be pregnant for Christmas while I would still be bitter and trying.

 

Who says that?

Anyway, this particular posting was about that F word.  The Finally word.   Now I know for some its just a word but for some… like me.. it hurts to see it.  Normally I would just pass over it… and I did for a long while.  But I had to say something when this girl- I won’t say who she is…some of you might know of whom I speak and the rest just know she isn’t worth naming— says that she’ll use the word BECAUSE SHE CAN.  She knows that it would hurt other women- women who provide her support when she has questions, when she is feeling down in her journey, hopeless in the end of a new cycle, who would wish her well whole-heartedly should she have her pregnancy and yet she would sting them.  It wasn’t me who told her at the beginning — it was other women.  Others who would feel the sting of that word.

With the thousands of words in the human language I dont understand a need to use the ONE that others have said hurt them.

I guess there is no understanding, some people are just mean like that.  Its nagging at my mind a bit today but I’ve pretty much let it go.  I’ll continue to avoid that particular person during the brief time I actually am on the site. 

What saddens me though are the number of women who think the way that she does.  Fertility Friend seems to be filled with them…and so when I expire this time.. there will be no going back.  The support isn’t for all women in all situations, but for the majority who don’t have the conception problems.  I knew that before, but this last bout of conversation just makes it all that more apparent. 

 

 

So thats it.  The most recent of my frustrations.

 

Frustration

I am experiencing quite a bit at this moment.  I don’t have the time to expand on the thought but I just felt as though even just saying/ typing it should let some of the pressure out so that I can finish what I need to finish in the next two days and then be all happy free to type it all out… to bust open the bag instead of prolonging this for much longer.

ARRRRGGGGHHHHHHHH

 

A Great Article (a rare purely political post)

I’d like to thank Barb for leaving me the link to this article!  I will link as well cut and paste below so you guys and gals can read without clicking out of my home.

Let me just state why this bothers me in a possible canidate for the highest job in our country.  I believe issues are important, but I believe that character is equally as important.  I believe that character is tied into looking at the people who influence the canidate generally (teachers, authors, etc) but more than that- the kind of people the person places themself under willingly (mentors, advisors, etc).  Kind of like the saying that there is family you don’t choose (that you are born into) and family that you do. 

I do believe that people grow and change from things which are negative.  That they can be given information that in turn enhances their view and makes them more —- moderate I guess is the best word that is coming to mind.  In the same way that usually views change from high school, to college, and beyond.  Often life experiences change our view of things and reorganize our priorities.  For me, in the context of this post, the simple choice to remain under the spiritual athority of a man who can make such remarks before a large congregation of people in a church whose own charter refers to Africa as the motherland sheds a rather harsh light on the canidate. This isn’t a man with whom the canidate was merely associated with 20, 15, 10 or even 5 years ago that was dug up by someone doing a lot of digging.  This is a man who married him, who baptised his children, who was given the position of personal spiritual advisor as well as being the pastor of the church he chose to attend.

  I am hispanic, Puerto Rican.  I am proud of my heritage as I am the second generation born and raised in this country.  My great grandmother couldn’t read, my great grandfather struggled in the beginning of the 20th century to support a family of eleven (there were a couple of deaths among my grandmothers siblings) in New York City.  I don’t believe anyone should be ashamed of their heritage–but the United States is my motherland.  This is where I was born, this is where I was edcuated and given my oppertunities.  This is where I will raise my child(ren) -should I be so lucky to have them. It is far from perfect but it is home. In my mind, to claim a land other than your own is a silent form of denunciation of the one in which you live.  That bothers me as well- again because the canidate is applying for the highest position in the land, executive as well as Commander in Chief of the military my husband serves in.

HOWEVER, my post isn’t about all the other issues.  It’s just to shed a bit a light on what one hispanic, republican woman in her mid-twenties thinks of the Wright situation and why it is an important issue to me.  Anyway, here is the article. 

 

Thanks again Barb!

 

---

Barack Obama and Rev. Jeremiah Wright by David Aikman

By many observers’ reckoning, Senator Barack Obama’s major speech on race in the U.S. at Philadelphia’s Constitution Center March 18 was one of the rhetorical highlights of the 2008 presidential election season. Obama’s 5,000-word address was skillfully crafted, eloquent, and a powerful attempt to bring balance—and the views of both blacks and whites—into discussion of “America’s original sin” of racial injustice over the centuries. As the son of a white woman from Kansas and a black man from Kenya (which raises the question why people of mixed race with one black parent and one white parent are almost always deemed to be black and not white), Obama is certainly in a good position to shed light on this often poorly illustrated topic.

Shed light in the speech, he did. He conjured up great patriotic themes of the past with phrases like “a more perfect union.” He was certainly right to note that there hasn’t been a cogent conversation about race in the public sphere in the U.S. for many years. He was sensible in appealing to whites for more understanding of the bitterness that is often felt in the black community about the black experience in America. He at least acknowledged that hard feelings among the two main races that comprise the U.S. flow in both directions; citing, for example, white blue collar resentment over the perception that affirmative action has provided unfair advantages to some blacks and has penalized whites unjustly for, well, being white. Obama’s speech was probably the most honest, vulnerable, and moving address on race in the current election year.

And yet, in many ways, it uncovered new problems even as it attempted to solve old ones. In his speech Obama confessed that even his white grandmother sometimes referred to African-Americans with derogatory stereotypes that “made him cringe.” A day or so later, he tried to allay worries that his grandmother might have been genuinely racist, but in doing so, he raised questions about his own proneness to racial stereotyping. He said that he had merely meant to say that his grandmother was “a typical white person” who might have a racially influenced reaction if approached in the street by someone (presumably black) she didn’t know. Critics of Obama immediately pounced on this phrase, denouncing it as stereotyping all whites of a particular generation. If a white politician spoke of a “typical black person,” some commentators noted, he or she would immediately be denounced for evil racial stereotyping.

Many observers, even though complimenting Obama’s speech, wondered why it had taken so long for him to address the racial issue in the first place. In a sense, it is a reflection of Obama’s political and rhetorical skills in appearing to “transcend” race, to be a Democratic politician who just “happened” to be black—partially black, at any rate—that race was never a serious issue in the campaign until March of this year. Obama’s appeal all along has been to whites as well as blacks. Hoover Institution Senior Fellow Shelby Steele, an African-American with deep—and sometimes controversial—insights into black-white relations in the U.S., suggested in a Wall Street Journal editorial column that Obama was popular with whites because, as an African-American, he was a “bargainer,” someone who made “the subliminal promise to whites not to shame them with America’s history of racism, on the condition that they will not hold the bargainer’s race against them.” Steele added that “whites love this bargain, because it gives them racial innocence in a society where whites live under constant threat of being stigmatized as racist.”If this had been Obama’s way of avoiding the discussion of race for several months of the primary season, it was blown sky-high in mid-March by endlessly repeated sound-bites of his former pastor, Rev. Jeremiah Wright, thundering anti-American phrases from his pulpit. And by “former,” we do not mean “sometime.” Obama spent twenty years in Wright’s church, was married there and had his children baptized there. In DVDs openly sold on the church’s website—and not clandestinely videotaped by some enemy of the church—Wright could be seen and heard shouting “God damn America,” asserting that the U.S. was a terrorist nation because it had dropped the atomic bomb on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, deserved the 911 terrorist attacks because of its own global behavior, and had invented HIV-AIDS to enslave or eliminate African-Americans. The U.S., Wright said in one sermon, ought to be called “the K.K.K. of America.” The extreme offensiveness—not to mention the sheer mendacity—of these comments forced Obama into a series of interviews in which he denounced the views of Wright. Yet in the end, in his Philadelphia speech, Obama did not “disown” Wright so much as attempt to contextualize Wright’s most hate-filled comments as the product of a particular generation of black activists confronted by the reality of white dominance in America.

The problem for Obama, even after his masterful speech, is that many people will wonder why he continued to attend Wright’s church for twenty years despite, presumably, at least knowing about Wright’s most outrageous views, even if he hadn’t actually heard the offensive sermons. His attempt to let Wright at least partially off the hook by referring to his own grandmother’s alleged offensive remarks about blacks didn’t convince many people. Some bloggers pointed out that Obama’s grandmother’s offensive comments were said in private, with no intention of stirring up prejudice against blacks. Wright’s comments, however, sneering and full of hatred towards whites, were made publicly and loudly before a congregation that was estimated at numbering more than 8,000 people. Wright, moreover, had championed in his church magazine none other than Louis Farrakhan, acting director of the Nation of Islam. Farrakhan has long been considered one of the most virulently anti-Jewish public figures on the American scene.

It is too early to tell whether Obama’s speech in Philadelphia will overcome serious doubts among voters that he has really “transcended” race. Obama is a talented, serious politician who has stirred up a greater interest in politics among young people than any other politician in recent years. His voice deserves to be heard. But his own stereotypical attitudes on race—witness the “typical white person” comment—make it clear that, though a “good” man—Senator John McCain’s description—he still has quite a long way to go before reaching the semi-Messianic status his most ardent admirers claim for him 

 

 

So Much to Talk About

There is so much I want to write about but I couldn’t possibly remember it all— especially as I expand the thoughts I do remember.   Bear with me… I’ll be all over the place from exams to collections to television and politics to my husbands laundry to the company cookout that I am missing.

So first about my well-woman appointment.  I was irritated by my doctor  before hand in reference to the issues actually getting an appointment and the fact that it has been almost a year since he said he was gointo call me with an appointment after he got my records to start up my testing schedule for the lupus.  Its been almost a year.  In that time I am supposed to get four tests to make sure they catch (if it happens) the last few symptoms before a full on diagnosis of lupus is possible.  That’s three tests I’ve missed and I ran out of meds a long time ago.  Not to mention I would like a change the naproxen as the long-term effects are not something I want to deal with (I’ve already been on two pills a day for just about 2 years).  So i went in not happy (except for the fact that it wasn’t a new doctor and I’d actually at least seen this doc once before he went all up in the va-jay-jay).  Without me having to say anything he apologised and asked if my records were in.  With an air of confusion I told him that my records were sent months ago.  Well apparently they were supposed to contact the Doc to let him know that my records were in so he could review them but they never did.  This I  believe because every time I call the records department I can never get anyone to answer the telephone.  So I have to go back May 5th and get my nine vials of blood drawn for my testing and do a med adjustment.  Nine vials of blood— freakin vampires.  It won’t be any fun trying drive home either.  Normally Im really light headed after the draw and the Hubbs is with me or comes to the lab to drive me, but the 5this when they go back out for field problems… for a month.  Also, on the 5th will be CD3 so I’ll be losing all kinds of blood.  Fun times (uhhh no).

::

Since we mentioned the Hubbs just now let me state my aggravationwith the man.  Since OCTOBER (without making you have to count that would be six months ago) I have not done his laundry.  I have, in the past, asked him repeatedly to put his dirty clothes in the laundry basket.  Instead he sheds clothing all over the house.  Piles… in the living room, dining room, computer room, all over the floor in our bedroom, on the floor AROUND the hamper in the bathroom.  Im sure you get the idea.  I also asked him tospecifically not to pile his clothes in the garage..in front of the washing machine.. because there are bugs that decide its a great place to make a home and I don’t get along with bugs (those of you who know Texas bugs know of what I speak).  He did it anyway.  So since then I’ve just been doing my own laundry.  He thought that with the holidays coming up and my family coming that I would somehow be embarassed  by his clothes all over and I would wash them.   Nope.  Why would I be embarrassedwithhis stuff everywhere?  All my clothes are where they belong.  So went the holidays.  A couple of months ago (Feb) for his birthday I told him that if he would just sort his clothes then I would start working on them- and he didn’t.  Today, there is the company picnic.  He calls me and tell me to have an outfit ready.  Well the man has not a stitch of clean clothing that is fit for the hot weather we have here in the desert and he had the nerve to blame me for it!  Can you believe that?!  How many times to do I have to tell him that I am his wife, not his slave?  I told him that he’s had six months to have clean clothes and he’s made the choice not to do it… almost three months since I told him all he had to do was sort the piles of clothes that are next to his side of the bed (cause I got tired of MY space being filled with his stuff).  He came home and wouldn’t even talk to me.  So now I am home, not going to the picnic but not because of his foolishness.

:::

Its been hot here in El Paso for a while now- hot and windy.  The dirt that has blown into my house is ridiculous because we don’t have air conditioning.  The company who handles this house told us then that they wouldn’t be coming out until today!  So I got a phone call this morning saying that he would be here this morning and here it is 11:15 in the morning and still no sign of the man.  So even if the Hubbs hadn’t irritated me to the point he has, I’d still be sittin here waiting.  They sent us a notice that if we missed this appointment we’d be put to the end of the line.  Have I ever mentioned that I hate swamp coolers?  Well I do.

::::

This morning I was watching “the View” and let me just say that Joy Behar grates on my nerves.  She’s just like my FIL in that she blames the rain on the Bush Administration (meaning everything wrong is their fault– not taking into account the cycles of economy or the results of decisions made by previous administrations).  Like the other day she said that we pay so much in gas because of the B.A. which is ignorant in and of itself because its a problem in all modern countries who are oil dependant.  I thank God that we don’t have to pay for gas PER LITER as it is overseas!  Takininto consideration that yes the Euro is stronger than the dollar– I thank God MORE SO that we don’t live overseas at this point in time.  Anyway, today Joy asked Elizabeth (who actually states many of my own views) why she wasn’t for Obama and then wouldn’t let her get it out.  Elizabeth did mention the association with Rev. Wright (which is another thing that deeply disturbs me) they all tried to dismiss it.  They tried to tell her it didn’t matter what his association is but so many of the people I know (including my grandmother who is a life-long democrat) find issue with it.  It isn’t a matter of mere association.  It’s a matter of the fact that Sn. Obama placed himself under the the spiritual athority of the man for 20 years.  That indicates something more than mere association and lights a red light (for me) that over such a period of time that the views expressed by the rev. are agreed with.  I also took offense that Whoopie(whom I love by the way for the most part) and Sherri told Elizabeth that she was looking through “white goggles” because she made the statement that she hoped people were looking beyond race and gender when they put their vote for their candidate.   I don’t see how that is “white” person view.  I am Hispanic and hope the same thing.  I also hate that Joy makes the generalization that all Republicans are old white men trying to keep power and provide tax cuts for themselves.  Usually I am rather stimulated by the hot topics, but today just irritated me.

:::::

So since its been awhile I should mention that both my brother and step-father have spent time in the ER recently (meaning in the last month and a half).  My brother had a work accident that crushed his left leg.  My Big Daddy (about a week later) all of a sudden started bleeding from his ear so it was back to the ER.  I should say that my mom and step-dad are both disabled..so they rely on their social security checks (which aren’t much).  When hes better my step-dad does work so that they have more of a “normal” income but as of right now his heart (hes had emergency heart surgery), back (hes had back surgery too), and diabetes are acting up.  He has what I like to call “genetic” diabetes rather than “lifestyle diabetes” (which is what my dad does have).  My step-dad has lost a brother and sister to diabetic complications in the past two years.  His legs get so swollen and retain so much fluid that its painful for him to walk.  What does this have to do with anything?  Well, with all this going on my parents have been a bit short on the cash and so naturally the car payment is a bit behind.  Let me just say that Chrysler financial have woken me up the last four days at 730 in the morning!  I finished out their payment for last month (because thats when all that stuff happened so they didn’t have the full payment) and told them everything that was going on.  They said that they would make a note of things the first day.  Apparently someone wasn’t doing their job though as evidenced by the last three mornings.  So yesterday I got really rude with the caller and this morning I just asked for the supervisor.  This is when I found out that no notes had been made in the file about my mother calling them (which she did because they had her new address and telephone numbers) and letting them know what was going on.  The supervisor tried to tell me that it was done over the computer and I let her know there was no way it could have been—they don’t own one!  I was so frustrated!  I let her know that 730 was too early to be calling anyone and she agreed with me but that it said I lived in Central.  I told her no I didn’t and I had informed the first caller that I was in Mountain and they should have made a note of it then since they told me that is what they were goin to do.  I also told her that we don’t make the payment on the car- my mother does, nor do we have possession of the car- she does too.  Apparently they didn’t make note of that fact last summer when I covered a payment for my parents and told them then too.  I understand that they need the money, but the payment is only 12 days behind.  By the 1st ( when my mom gets her disablilty check for the month) it won’t even be 30 days past due.  My mom called them previously to let them know the situation of whats happened and because of someone’s (more than one as a matter of fact) incompetence I am dealing with these issues.  And you know what- they want their money so bad but won’t do anything but harass. I asked if there was anyway to extend the term to lower the monthly payment and I get “we don’t do that”.  I asked if they could give them an extention because of the medical issues and they said “No because we gave an extention for Christmas”.  Like they planned on these medical issues coming up simultaneously.   Anyway, now things are squared away in that arena and I shouldn’t have to talk to them again for a while.

::::::

Last night my sister called me and told me that we were goin to be “Tia’s” (aunt’s— for those of you who might not know).  My heart fell into my stomach.  My stomach fell to the floor.  They say that my middle bro’s girlfriend of less than two months (this is the bro that had the work accident) is pregnant.  I was in such shock that I didn’t catch when he told me she was due in Febuary.  But as the shock wore off and I put all said organs back in their proper place I realized that someone is lying.  There is no way she can be pregnant now and due in Febuary.  Even if she missed one period that would mean a January due date.  To be due in Feb it would have to be May right now (which we all know it isn’t).

There is more..but I fear this is equal to a short story or maybe a thin novel so I am going to end it here.  So many frustrations.

 

First Date

To explain myself: tomorrow I have an appointment with the OB.  At least I think its the OB.  I called the appointment line hoping to get a general check up but seeing as that didn’t happen for the first time in my adult life I am goin to have a well-woman without knowing or even meeting the doctor before hand.

and to be very honest, I am more than just a little bit uncomfortable with the whole idea.  My last doctor– I loved him and it still took me six months to be comfortable with the man down there (and after that it really was no big deal when it came to all this IF junk).  Other docs I’ve met at least once before they go lookin in the ole hoo-ha.

I think that after this year.. i’ll just do this well-woman every few years instead of every year.  I mean, nothings come up before, the Hubbs is the only one venturing that path and kids isn’t apparently happenin without some help so why put myself through it right? (not to mention.. if I keep this plan I won’t have to deal with this again in the time we are here and I can hope, pray, and cross my fingers that I get to choose my doc’s where ever we end up next.

AH BLEH.

 

Wonder

so I’ve been wonderin lately.  Don’t ask why but its what happens when the Hubbs is gone for a period of time.

I wonder if my dogs think my necklace is like their collars?

I mean.. its around my neck and I have a charm on it… HUMM

 

so…

 

What do you Wonder?

 

Poor Boy

I really wish there was spell check.  Actually having to think is giving me a headache.

 

 

Just playing. 

 

Anyway what boy you may be asking?

My boy dog, Blade seems to be having— issues.

and he looks so sad.

 

I am sad cause I’ve been cleaning it up for two days.

Yeah, baby diapers have nothing on that.

 

Ladies and Gents of WoW Persuasion

Hear Ye! Hear Ye!

 

Community of Infertility

 

There is an article I found today:

 

While some anti-gaming activists would love nothing more than to find new research that definitively links real life violence with violence in video games, one recent study in Britain found that playing violent video games online actually has a tendency to make people less angry. Miss Jane Barnett and her colleagues at Middlesex University are presenting their results at the British Psychological Society’s Annual Conference in Dublin today (April 2).

For the study, 292 male and female World of Warcraft players, aged between 12 and 83, were given a questionnaire on anger, aggression and personality. The participants then played the game for two hours and then completed the survey yet again. Ultimately, the results showed that “the gamers were more likely to feel calm or tired after playing – but there were differences depending on sex, age and personality.”

“There were actually higher levels of relaxation before and after playing the game as opposed to experiencing anger but this did very much depend on personality type. This will help us to develop a emotion and gaming questionnaire to help distinguish the type of gamer who is likely to transfer their online aggression into everyday life,” explained Barnett.

So in light of this I want to invite you all to play WoW

If you go to Worldofwarcraft.com you can download the free 10 day trial.

A small group of ourselves have developed (are developing) our own guild called “Union of Evil Uteri”
(don’t you love the name).

We are Alliance on the server Cairne. If you wanna join our guild (any affected by infertility-male or female) just drop me a comment or email here and I’ll look for you online– OR you can whisper me/message me at the name “Gaemisen”.

My good friend Beck also has approval privileges so you can whisper/message her at the name “Kynara”.

Hope you game with us!! We are more than willing to help out if you need it too!!!

 

When to Stop Trying?

Ok.. so I am finally getting down to this even though I should have done it weeks ago.   Chapter 10 of Unsung Lullabies is about deciding what it means to stop trying and how to determine when you and your significant other are ready for a break or to stop completely.

The first section is such a simple concept but can be so difficult: You made the choice to start, You make the choice to stop.  For myself and the Hubbs, we decided that how far we go would completely depend on the status of our financial situation first and foremost.  It’s hard to say that right at the beginning and the financial aspect becomes less important the more desperate we become. In that aspect, I am very glad we set our boundaries before we were in the middle of a situation.  When it came down to it, we didn’t have any money to do any kind of ARTs, but we know whats wrong.  It kind of made me (at the time) say to just fix it–or work around the issue–but we didn’t have the money.  When we moved, I don’t even trust the doctors so whats one to do?  When you have the means, you find a doctor you do trust.  I could go on and on about it as it has been kind of a sore spot as of late with me.  As spring rolls in and I see all those people from the end of our trying beginning to have their children, of seeing them grow and such- I have a spark of bitterness in my heart.  If only…

If only we could even affort to try beyond what we have done already– maybe that could be us. Maybe 2008 would have marked the year of success and new beginnings rather then the fourth year of failure.

Then I think “Maybe not– maybe we’d just be broke and childless”.

The authors mention the choice to stop being clear cut or not–and for me it was a very definite  “I need to stop this.  I can’t handle anymore”.

And for the Hubbs it was more of a slow stop. In his mind, three years was that line and he would not give up the hope until that line was crossed. So for my October 07 cycle I could feel the hope coming from him. It was almost tangible.  It hurt my heart because even that cycle I remember being so nonchalant but he was very much aware of where I was in my cycle..it was his last chance. I could see it and yet again we failed.  Since that cycle he’s not said much of anything about babies or children.  Until last week.  But we’ll get to that in a different post.

The authors also address the religious/spiritual aspect of infertility- the anger at God, guilt for that anger.  This aspect of infertility has really been a burden on my heart– so much so that I am beginning to want to try and change that.  I’ve begun a blog specifically for the spiritual aspects of my personal journey–that I will link here when it is relevant.

The rest of the chapter talks about letting go of treatment when you feel like you cannot handle anymore. Do not push yourself into yet another treatment because it is new, or a new protocol because it worked for someone else.  The “keeping up with the Jones’) mentality can hurt us more than help.  And in some cases, treatment is used almost as a shield against facing the pain of disappointment, the death of a dream.  I have seen that on some of the boards I used to frequent but don’t anymore.  I remember those ladies who would post in anger about their spouses saying that it was time to move on.  How could he not understand that this might be the thing that works?  What if down the road we wonder if we had tried one more time?

That is certainly when I feel that a sit down and heart-to-heart about the why’s need to be considered.  Its important to remain a team during these times because I’ve seen the dream of a child kill the couple.  It didn’t end up that way with me and the Hubbs but our relationship has definately been strongly impacted by infertility.  We have been working on that over the last six months and while we aren’t where I feel we used to be- I think we are getting closer to that.  I value the effort that he’s put into making me feel like it is ok if it is just us.  I am enough for him.  I have tried to do the same for him as he faces what issues he has with how the story has gone for us thus far.

 

Not Good For Sunday

So i am lookin at my stats page.  Im still a bit confused by all the changes to the WordPress layout but the more I use it the more I like it, especially since I am goin to try and start a “companion” blog that will mainly focus on the spiritual side of my journey.  I’ve lost a lot more than I care to admit in my walk, and I am sensitive to those of you who are on the same kind of journey away from Him because of the circumstances we find ourselves in. I also know that there are those of you whom I value as good friends who do not hold to the same system of beliefs as I do and I would respect you in that as well.  When I post there in relation to a post here– i’ll leave a link so that you my dear readers may choose if you want to read on or just stick to this.

I think its a good compromise no?

 

But… whats not good for sunday in that you wonder?

Simply this: under search terms that found my blog today I find this particular question and my thoughts were not “good for this one for seeking answers”.  It was actually quite the opposite.

 

“Why are Filipino’s considered Pacific Islanders?”

UMMMM, really? 

Common Sense doesn’t not flow strong in this one.

 Person who is seeking the answer– take a look at a map.  They aren’t hard to find really.  In the old days you could find them in books but now that wonderful Google you used to type this foolish question can find you a map.  The Philipines is located in the Pacific Ocean– it is an Island.  Hence, the distiction of Pacific Islander.

 

:::

Side note: I’ve finally started to teach myself to knit.  I cut my finger on cheap acrylic old yarn thats been in my stash far longer than I care to admit.  I think its funny that I use this particular yarn because I have read in places where there are some knitters out there who associate my love craft of crochet with cheap acrylic yarn– and that is what I use for my not so loved craft of knitting (the love might change but for now–its definately at the bottom of my list- even below beading).  Anyway, so today I am going to run out and buy a 24 inch round knitting needles to try my hand at a more intermediate project.  But I am a beginner you say!  Yeah, but beginning projects bore me and if I started with those then I would never pick up the needles again–thankyouverymuch garter stitch!  Yesterday with my bad yarn I started a black ribbed scarf.  Was doing well with it…but then around midway– somewhere I had fallen short on a K3 and only K2 and the row looked bad.  So I frogged the whole thing!  Yes, almost finsihed and I frogged it.  Black is a color you just have to frog–because looking for a stitch is like lookin into the abyss trying to find a hair.  Hopefully this circular doesn’t cost much.

I also plan (before I venture out in the wild) to get these dishes cleaned and finish the other half of my living room’s spring clean.  You know.. I need to actually do something worthwhile before going for something crafty.

 

 

My Yesterday

Its been awhile and today may or may not bring a plethora of posts because I may or may not feel like doing so.

Where have I been?

Mainly– just playin WoW, spending time with the hubbs before he starts this particular rotation of field problems that will leave me spending more time on my own from now to about mid-summer.

Yay me … no not really.

Yesterday was an interesting day. It didn’t start out that way though.  It started out with cramps–worse than what I’ve had since Ovulating.  So I knew that the witch we all know and hate was on her way.  She didn’t send her companion ahead of her though-guess she was in a rush.   So anyway after another perfect cycle (yes madams and sirs–O CD13, 15 day leutal phase with a triphasic chart, midcycle spotting and a temp dip resulting in sore breasts from day 2 and lower abdominal cramping from day 1) and we’ll get into how I know all this a little bit later but right now lets stick to yesterday.   So because my  cramps were bad I just laid up on the couch listening to KLOVE(which I found on 31 March –the significance of which will be another post Im goin to have to make) and playing WoW.  A gal has to eat though and at around four I was pretty near to starving.  I also ran out of soy milk–which happens to be my new love!  Seriously.  I tried some and it was so good I finished the entire bottle in less than a week so I used the opportunity to buy the vanilla soy and try that out.  That will be this morning’s experiment.  Anyway.  The debate of where do I eat (cause I didn’t want to cook just for myself–that can be more than depressing on CD1) was decided by the soy milk.

“WHY?” you might be asking yourself. “How?” is probably the more relevant question.  Well I wanted the soy milk and Target is right across the street from Jack In the Box (yummy spicy chicken sandwiches and seasoned curly fries!)–where as Subway was in the opposite direction.

 Well, it was rush hour traffic and I knew the line would be long so I was happily sitting there just minding my own business when I get a text from the Hubbs.  He is on his way back to the post!  With the Sgt Major! He’s forgotten some things that they dont’ know hes forgotten but they had a workup for last night that it would soon be discovered that he had forgotten!  I needed to go to Wal-Mart and get these things and drive to the base that is 25 minutes away in rush hour traffic to meet him at the aid station while the Sgt Major completed what he needed to complete and they were headed back out. 

So I pay.  I curse the traffic as I will them to part like the Red Sea before Moses in his flee from the raging Egyptians–only my raging Egyptian was the fear that Hubbs would be punished for this and hes been through so much crap with these people already that it would almost be moral breakin for him to go through more crap.  So I run in and head straight for the sporting goods section. I haven’t stepped foot into a wal mart more than three times since we moved here so I was a bit unfamiliar.  I get there and I can’t find what he needs and I can’t find someone to help me find these things.  Finally someone in a blue shirt comes by and finds me what I need.

Tick Tock Tick Tock

Hubbs texts me “where are you”

Im leaving the freakin store.  By the grace of all that is holy I happened to catch the tail end of a particularly bad patch of traffic so I didn’t have to wait to get out (cause we all know people are not the kindest during their jaunt home).  I knew of a back road that I hoped went all the way through to where I needed to get and I took it at 60.

Yes my friends that is 60 mph in a residential neighborhood.  I really was breaking the law.  However, in my defense the road isn’t really IN a neighborhood…its more of a boundary between neighborhoods so its like a six lane road that was straight as an arrow and just as flat–with no one but me and a DHL truck. 

I get a text “We are on post.  Got 20 mins”

Now (just as a side note) what could be so important that a man would drive an hour and a half from where they are to come to the post for 2o mins and deal with that to drive and hour and a half back?  Anyway, back to my story. So I get onto the state road that leads to the other back road that will take me to the closest gate to the aid station. 

Speed racer gooo speed racer (theres a movie coming out about that by the by).

Tick Tock–

get stuck behind a semi

Tick Tock—

behind one of those poor fools who drive at 30 when the rest of the world is at 50.

Tick Tock–Text

“where are you now”

Tick Tock-

At the gate.  Then at the station.  I pass the goods to the Hubbs–Kiss Kiss (yay) and he takes my dinner (not so yay). I drive away quickly.

Not even a minute later–not even back at the gate to get off post and I get a text– the man is back.  Literally the second I turned the corner.  WHEW.  Mission not so impossible!  With seconds to spare I was the life saver of my Hubbs…

but I was still hungry.  I still needed the dinner that was the one half of the reason why I left the house in my crampy state to begin with. So whats on the way home? 

Subway.

Thats right.. I made a choice of something other than subway and I end up with subway anyway.  I stand in line while I wait for my turn to order.  I watch as a little boy and his older brother buy a bag of chips.  This little boy is there–holding his dollars, excited to be doing this by himself.  I watched him hand over the money- too much money- and then watched as his older brother (maybe seven) showed him how to count out the change back.  I watched how accomplished that little boy felt in his spending of three dollars and I wanted to weep for my own sadness–standing there in the Subway line.  In averting my eyes I noticed hips.  Yes, Hips ladies–the things that change when you have a child.  With mix of kids from the high school across the street getting out of their sports practices and their mothers.. I saw how my hips didn’t look like those mothers hips.  The only safe place to look was at my toes.  So that’s how I waited.

Then on the way back to the car I had parked right in front of a hair salon, I decided that my hair really did need a trim.  I had split ends off split ends that went all the way up the hair shaft.  My hair reached the middle of my back. So why not?  Shouldn’t take too long- a little something for me.  I sat in the chair– and I chopped it all off.  Literally– all of it is gone.

Where hair reached the middle of my back, now didn’t reach the top of my neck.  I love it though.  Think Posh Beckham–just know in your head that I’m a thousand times cuter. I was growing the hair for Locks Of Love and in a selfish second I chopped it all off. 

Sigh.

I can always try again right?

So that was my afternoon yesterday. I left for Soy milk and Jack In the Box and ended up driving all over town, breakin the law, saving my hubbs, eating subway and chopping off my hair.

And I still ended it with those demon cramps straight from the bowels of hell’s lowest levels.

 

Im Sorry

I will be making a post (or several) soon.

I have to get the Unsung Lullabies post done and send out emails.

But I am just hyper-emotional lately so I haven’t been reading your blogs, your posts on boards, etc.

Im sorry—seems as though I am a fair-weather friend— and unfourtunately it seems to be only when *I*  am under fair weather.

 

I Thought This Would Be Interesting

What do you wish?

Just leave a comment and let me know.  There are no parameters other than to not disparage another’s wish. 

 

So Frustrated!

Freaking Military Treatment Facilities!

Someone tell me why they can’t handle TWO issues in one appointment instead of making me make two separate appointments at two completely inconvenient times?

I’ve been having some major issues with my pain with my fibromyalgia the past few weeks.  As in serious pain in my hips mainly…but also in my fingers, wrists, back, neck and ankles. Pain that makes it practically impossible for me to sleep well–and sometimes impossible to even sleep with my husband (or have him touch me) because my nerves are so sensitive that even shifting hurts me. The man (the doctor who acts like he’s got better places to be than actually doing his job) gave me MAJOR issues on filling my previous prescriptions when we got here even though I brought my copy of my records from my doctor.  Apparently because I brought them they don’t qualify and so yada yada yada.  The man gave me thirty days worth of meds—that I have by some miracle (and lots of days with moderate pain) I have made to last these nine months.  Only taking them when I can’t possibly stand it anymore–because for some reason I can’t ever get a hold of someone in the records department to tell me if my records have been filed from my old doctor and the new doctor won’t do anything for me for more than thirty days until he has records DIRECTLY from the my old (and might I say—gloriously wonderful) doctor.  I don’t have any more medicine though.

I also need to see them about my cycles (which is related in a way because when the fibro gets bad the cycles get wonky) and my yearly physical (which includes the all wonderful pap crap) is due.

So I have been on the phone on hold for 45 minutes just to have some guy tell me that I need two separate appointments with the same doctor and that I have to wait a month for my yearly and Lord only knows how long to talk to them about my meds because for what they are scheduled–they are full.  BUT I can keep calling to check if someone has canceled an appointment (even though the whole reason I need to schedule an appointment is so that I can co-ordinate with my husband because we only have one car–a last minute appointment isn’t going to work cause how am I supposed to get there?) OR I can keep calling back so that when ever they get the next window open I can schedule an appointment-possibly three freakin months from today.

Yeah, people…this is what government sponsored health-care is and one reason why I am  so not for a NHS in this country.

I wish this place didn’t have an MTF so I could choose my doctor and make an appointment for when *I* wanted to go to the doctor–the same day if necessary.  I miss my Dr.Miles!

 

Thoughts Please, Again

Once again guys and gals  I am solicting prayers and thoughts.

One of the fab four (myself and my three BFF’s from middle school) is pregnant.  Today was the first scan and the baby was diagnosed with Anencephaly. Basically, their are parts of the skull that are not developing and more importantly vital parts of the brain which are not developing. The baby otherwise is developing as normal–with a strong heartbeat and growth that is right on target.  They are praying for a miracle while bracing themselves for the worse and are asking for any prayers/good thoughts (as I realize that there are those of you who read this who do not subscribe to the same faith as we do—I would still appreciate the best of what you can give).  They will not terminate the pregnancy artifically which is a decision I fully respect.

And the hits just keep on comin.  Can it be April soon?

 

Dealing

So I have read through this chapter…quite a bit and really just sitting here just trying to figure out how to relay the thoughts in my head into words on a page screen. This chapter is called “Dealing with the World” and there is really a lot to it considering that outside of what I see as failings in terms of reproduction,  a big part of my pain comes from dealing with the world.

When we started on this road we thought it was easy.  We started out alone on the road- just the two of us- because none of our friends wanted family.  None were ready even though some had children. We were different because this was/is something we wanted before we even knew for sure that it was something we wanted with each other.

Our road was wide, paved and easy.  Lined with trees and meadows.  Soon our road was filled with companionship–friends were settling down and wanting a family as well.  Excited by it all we went along the road together–planning things together because surely we would experience not only pregnancy together but parenthood as well.  Maybe not physically together since we are a military family and the friends we made/will make along the way are also in this life that is defined by separation, but having each other to talk to about what Junior is doing now, how do ”you” deal with such and such, etc. 

But things didn’t work out that way.  By natures design the road fragmented and our friends went on, their road taking them farther and farther away from ours as the months (then years) passed without our road bending.  Straight but not so pleasant as it was in the beginning.  First some crumbling at the edges, then a sink hole here and there, eventually turning into this quasi-road with sharp rocks instead of smooth pavement.  No more vibrant trees and meadows but rather a desert with dead weeds tumbling along with us.

When we started out (and hopefully this will clue you into my imagery above in case you are confounded by it) we were so hopeful and so full of expectation.  The way I viewed the world was really very much sunshine and daisies even though my actions weren’t at all “pollyanna”-ish.  The world re-enforced my naiveness every where I looked. In the advertisements, in the stores, with co-workers and friends.  Every place I looked I saw what was so natural and expected.  I didn’t mind the 0ffice announcements or the commercials, of the placement of the maternity section in a store, the questions from strangers about children and the expectation of them.  It was all okay because soon we would be able to partake in all of that.  Soon we would have our own pictures to show me grow with child, soon we would be the focus of a baby shower, we would be the ones having to work through a birth plan and making decisions on things.  We’d be decorating a room and buying books.

When we realized there would be problems the road was still relatively easy and it wasn’t a big deal to still participate in these things with others, but my perspective certainly was changing.  It was me of course because the world would not all change of course.  As we moved farther along  this journey I stopped things slowly because they got too painful.   Our road narrowed and the world around us got gray and I began to see it as a hazard.  A place that would suck what little joy I could find in dealing with this infertility like the desert soaks up water.  It invades with its commercials when I just want to watch a show on television to get me away from my problems.  It invades when I just want to buy some groceries, or when I just want to have a nice evening out with my husband.  The questions are barbs to my heart because I don’t have an answer.  I don’t like to see the look of pity when I tell the truth of why or the look of disapproval if I make a witty comeback.

So this chapter is good because how I deal with the world effects the way (in part) infertility affects me.  The most striking line in this chapter to me is when they are addressing  how to respond to stinging comments:

“….remember, you do not have to respond right away, if at all”.

So simple, so true.  If I am in a place where I cannot answer without the bitterness coming through, a place where I cannot educate then I don’t *have* to say anything at all.  In my head I know that people try to start up conversation based on what they think they can relate on and there is no LED display on my forehead announcing what place I am at emotionally— unfourtnately.  I can’t control their ignorance but I can certainly control my response to it and I think that if I make the effort I can walk away from the situation without dwelling on it for minutes, hours or days on end.  Or at least until I can share the situation with someone (or a group of people) who understand.

 This chapter also deals with how to deal with family in terms of what to tell them, how much to tell them, etc.  Hubby and I decided early on that we wouldn’t share our struggles.  For me it was a matter of not fully trusting in my father and his wife and of knowing that our pain would become about them.  As far as my mom is concerned–I didn’t (and still don’t) think she can relate to what I am dealing with and there is no advice give that would make me feel better.  To give her credit I do think that she has pretty much guessed at why we aren’t pregnant (especially since she knows I haven’t been on birth control for years), and she hasn’t said anything about it but at the same time diverts my dad when he ventures onto the grandkids subject.  As for hubby’s side of the family–their view is that one snippet of information entitles them to the whole of our lives and we didn’t want that.  We have a strategy when it comes to dealing with thing–which mostly isn’t a problem since we don’t live near family. 

 Another line at the end of the chapter…or rather the title of a subsection… really stood out to me as well.

“You are coping.  Even though it may not feel like it”.

I like that and I think that is going to be my mantra when I am in these situations where I feel so overwhelmed by the world.  I *am* coping because I make it from one day to the next.  I *am* coping because slowly but surely we are rediscovering the bits of each other that we lost along that road some where–along those points where it was dark and cold and we simply put our heads down and tried to make it through with as much of ourselves as we could.    I *am* coping because while I allow myself to cry I also allow myself to laugh.

Maybe our road won’t turn but instead continue in that straight line but maybe the world around that road will go back to being something we can contribute to and enjoy instead of feeling as though it exists to suck all our joy. 

I certainly hope so

 

Nagging and Unwanted

So really should post more here.  Its not that I am uber busy or that I am angry (cause if you’ve read this blog more than just a couple of times you know that anger usually warrents a rather long posting).

Just that lately I don’t know what to say.  That is really very odd for me because I don’t normally have that problem, especially when it comes to writing my feelings.  More often than not (but not as of late) I can much better articulate myself with the written word.

As for the title of this post.  I am getting a bit frustrated with my mind.  Somewhere from the depths the whole baby issue is naggin its way to the fore front of my dreams.  Every night this week I’ve had some dream relating to pregnancy and childbirth.  I think it was tuesday night that I had two dreams back to back (one was rather disconcerting involving a very “Alien” kind of birthing experience).

It’s not to say that I don’t *want* to be pregnant because if that were the case then what the heck were the last three + years all about?  In pure honesty, I am working on healing and I think that I have been doing a pretty good job of it as of late.  I don’ think that it is entirely prudent to jump back into things while I am in this fraile state of mind- this place I’ve worked hard to be in and feel that I need more time in this space so that if we go back to TTC I can deal with things alot better than I did before.  I have no idea if that last sentence really made any sense.

Its not just been the dreams either– but just general things in life.  You know I accidently stepped on my therm the other day and broke it clean in half.  I felt sad about it even though I’ve only used it for about six days out of every cycle.  My infertility thread broke off of my right wrist and I felt almost naked without it.  A friend brought up an IVF study where they would pay for the procedure– and I honestly sincerely thought about it for a good few days.  Even now its there….making its way to the front of my mind.  Hubby is out in the field doing exercises so he won’t even be home for a few days so I can’t talk to him about it.  I am trying not to think about it since all probability would lean toward the program being full by the time we can sit down and have a good heart to heart about it.  

Maybe its just a hurdle thats part of healing? It has been six months since we stopped trying.  I would guess that after so long of being in a particular rut–sometimes a body must feel the need to go back to it “for old times sake”?  I just don’t know, but it certainly is leaving me a bit unsettled.

 

How did I know he was “the One”?

My younger brother T called me last night and we talked for a good two hours.  It was good to talk to him because he hasn’t called me in a while.  See (like with my male friends) when they are doing something they shouldn’t be doing or dating someone they shouldn’t be dating–they don’t call me.  Why?  They all say the same thing.  They know it’s not right and they know I will tell it like it really is–and they’d rather not hear it.  Call me a conscience in the flesh– and I am proud of the fact that this is part of who I am.  They all know it comes from a place of love though cause frankly–if I don’t like you I couldn’t care less if you choose to screw up your life (unless of course it will in some way affect mine–then I’ll say something but not be really nice about it either).

Anyway, it was a good thing to talk to him.  To hear *how* he spoke to me gave me the realization that he’s finally ready to be a responsible adult at the age of 23.

He asked me how I knew Hubby was the one for me.

I thought it would be interesting to record my whys (and this will show what a book nerd, sentimentalist, romantic that I am inside).

My favorite author is Jane Austen.  My “dream” man is Mr. Darcy.  In my head Mr Darcy was tall, dark-haired, blue eyed.  He is strong, decisive, responsible, loyal and able to change when proven wrong or a better way is presented.

Odd huh?

How does that pertain to my husband? Well, without the physical characteristics–he is all those things (for the most part–hes not so partial to change).  And for a long time the physical aspects were the main aspects– a type so to speak.

It’s almost needless to say that I rarely felt the inclination to date many guys and in my teen years (not counting my hubby) I only dated three guys (one guy repeatedly–but thats another story for another day) because not many can fit the type in my head.

But each of those guys–while they met some aspect of my physical leanings– sorely lacked in the characteristic ones.

The second way–

While I had plenty of guys tell me I was beautiful– my husband is the only one who never told me (odd huh?).   The thing though is that Hubby—always made me feel beautiful and I never felt the need for him to have to tell me.

So to spite the faults that he does have– I love the man more than any other in the world(except for Grandma–but thats a different kind of love).

My brother was a little quiet for a bit—I think we’ll talk more on the subject soon which I am more than happy to do with him.

I love that we can talk this way—that he trusts me enough to ask for advice and respects me enough to take it to heart.

So… if you are so inclined, Dear Reader, drop me a comment (I haven’t gotten many lately) and let me know how you knew your “One”!