2004 Passes Peacefully On

The last day of 2004. Hubby and I went to see "Annie" last night at the theatre. I bawled all the way through it. Live musical theatre does me in ... and to willingly go watch a story about adoption when you're as hormonal as I am just doesn't help it out at all!

I'd like to be all retrospective and deep today about this past year, but nothing is coming. It's been a good year. There are things that have happened that have challenged me, certainly. And there are things that I would like to have done differently, but it's been a good year.

I also don't have a list of resolutions to kick off this new year. I really do need to continue with the exercise but that's a daily resolution, not a new year one. I also truly need to get serious about getting my weight under control, per yesterday's post, but again, that's a daily resolution.

Our plans for this evening fell through. We were going to join up with some friends at a very small fire hall outside of the city where one of them was playing in the band. It was that small, though, that no one bought tickets and they had to cancel the gig, so we're up in the air for tonight. One of the guys from the band just called, and suggested that they get some lobster and come here tonight for a jam session - which is probably what we'll end up doing. Works for me. I've never been a big one on this passing of the new year and all the formality associated with it, but it would be nice to spend it with friends this evening, and I never say no to a good lobster feed!

I'll leave on this note today. Happy New Year....there's hope for us yet:

Romanian, 67, to become world's oldest mom

Poor poor pitiful me

Another year is almost at an end. I sat with my calendar last night and according to my count, by this time next week I should be an ovulating fool. Dropping eggs like there's no tomorrow.

I got on the scale this morning too, though. I am out of control. I've put on 4 lbs just since Dec 23 ... 4 lbs in six days! I didn't think that was humanly possible. If I got pregnant now, it would be totally unhealthy for me and the baby I think.

I feel almost selfish focusing on this today when there is so much else going on in the world. But it's where my head is, and it is my blog so I guess it's ok to be self centered for a minute or two.

I've been going to the gym - three or four times a week. I am, not, however, eating properly or drinking water. I'm back to coffee, albeit decaf, and caffeine free diet coke. I had almost removed those totally from my life.

It's like I am a self sabateur. This morning I'm getting dressed, in my usual black because I think it makes me look smaller outfit, and I'm totally depressing myself because I have all this weight back on! Three years ago I was proudly zipping into size 10 jeans. Now I couldn't get a pair of jeans around a thigh if I wanted to! Even my maternity clothes won't fit me if I get pregnant. Shit, they don't fit me now!

So I figure I have two choices:

• keep complaining, do nothing, and blow up
• get back to what I know works for me and keep my one day at a time philosophy in mind; focus on the journey and not the destination; keep going to the gym and set a mini goal of getting these 4 lbs back off as a start

I think I know which one I'll choose.

A peek at me

I was reading Cecily's blog, which I do every day, and saw the picture of her dog Hammer. And so, because I am bored, and know that there are probably only two people that peruse my blog on any kind of semi-regular basis, I thought I'd play around this morning with adding some pictures to it.

So here we go:


Hubby_&_I_on_vacation_this_summer - we went to a family reunion and drove with my parents. It was a great trip and gave us awesome memories!

Our_friend_Paul's_15_minutes_of_fame_on_the_internet - this guy is a great friend of ours and as with many of our friends, in serious need of therapy. He got the bright idea to take a digital pic of himself sitting on the toilet and then put it on the side of his plumbing truck. Someone took a pic of it, posted it on the internet and it made the rounds! I received it from friends in other countries who didn't know this was our friend! He plays in my husband's band, and was interviewed by a local tv station here, where he said "yep...been a singer/songwriter for 25 years, and my 15 minutes of fame comes about while I'm sitting on the can"

Our_dogs - Barkley is a 160 lb Landseer Newfoundland who we rescued from the shelter. Sheba is the "little" dog - 80 lb Rottie/Lab mix, who we rescued from Paul (see above story for reason she needed a stable home!)

Our_wedding_day_May_2004 - the day that celebrated all that is good and just in the world.

So there you go. A peek into the world I call mine.

"Baby it's coooold outside" ~ as the song goes.

I have been hoping for snow all month and last night we got it! Boy, did we get it! It's a blizzard - not as bad as the one we got last February, but a blizzard none the less.

The other very cool thing is that the kids were here with us when it struck! The cable is out (although thankfully the hi-speed internet still works) so we're doing other stuff.

The oldest boy and I just painted up the basement windows with markers that are supposed to wash off. My mother gave them to the boys for Christmas. Along with two big bottles of Silly String. I'm not sure why she hates me so much ... she says it's revenge for all the noisy gifts I bought my sister's kids when they were young.

Maybe this time next year, we'll have another little boy or girl to share a holiday snow storm with ... one can hope right?

Boxing Day Bonanza

I am married to the most amazing man. We've often said we could have fun in a ditch together, and yesterday was a fine example of the mirth and merriment that we share.

Yes, we had all the trimmings of Christmas - a few nice gifts, very thoughtful and demonstrative of how well we know each other. But my favourite gift of all? The gift of time that we were given yesterday with family and with each other - and the gifts of laughter and love.

We got up semi late (for us anyhow) yesterday - 7:30 a.m. We had breakfast. We called family members to wish them good morning and merry Christmas. We talked to our two boys and shared their excitement by phone. We opened our stockings and gifts from each other.

Then we peeled potatoes together, and made a big pot of mashed garlic potatoes to take up to my parents' home, which is about an hour away. The weather was perfect for our drive - not a drop of snow and lots of sun so no black ice possibilities.

We laughed, sang, talked and dreamed on our drive. And then we shared family together.

My sister had us in stitches, doing impressions of my brother "whistling" for the dog. It's at Christmas that I miss my brother most especially since it was Boxing Day five years ago that I last saw him alive. She brought his voice and total goofiness back to life for me yesterday. Our mother laughed so hard we were worried for her a few times.

It was good. It was all good.

My husband gifted me with a mobile that has the three most beautiful stuffed teddy bear angels. We have hung it in our front room, and along with it, said a prayer of hope and desire that this year will be our year.

On another note, the side effects of the clomid have set in. Not too bad with the mood swings ~ although my husand has decreed that I will not carve the turkey today due to the use of sharp objects ~ but the hot flashes and fatigue are ever present. I hadn't realized that hot flashes were a side effect, although my husband certainly remembered that fact. I was a bit concerned that I had flipped into menopause overnight!

There. My ramblings from a deliriously happy chick today. Happy Boxing Day.

One down, five to go

Bloodwork carried out yesterday. By a very chipper and efficient lab tech who had consumed a LOT of sugar that day I think! She poked really hard and left a bruise, which usually doesn't happen to me.

I heeded my friend's advice and took the first two Clomid pills last night before bed. Well, not really before bed. Before we left the house to go to an open house.

I've been sweating and hot flashing ever since. Not sure if this is usual or not.

And although my kidneys are too close to my eyeballs on a normal day, I spent a lot of time boo-hoo'ing in the car this morning on the way to work. Christmas carols made me weep. A radio announcer read a card aloud that her coworker had given me ... I sobbed at the red light.

This will be fun!

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night........ideally free of night sweats.

Wrong count

I'm not sure now when to get the bloodwork done.

My cycles have been slightly messed up over the last while, and I was pretty sure I had actually started yesterday. It would seem though that this wasn't the case. Now I think I have started as of this evening, but it's all so light I don't know whether to count tomorrow as day 2 or not. Either way, I'm going to either go for the bloodwork by Friday morning or forget about doing it this cycle. I can't imagine that my FSH levels are going to change that much with one day so I might just go tomorrow and be done with it.

Someone at work did caution me to take a pregnancy test, just in case though. Good advice which I will be taking first thing in the morning. I don't need any help with loss ~ I'm quite skilled at doing that all on my own.

Thanks for the good wishes and thoughts ~ I'll take every single one of them.

Tomorrow's the day

My period arrived last night. Bloodwork and first dose of clomid tomorrow. I blubbered all the way through the Advent concert tonight without the freaking medication, and I was singing, so that wasn't good!

There will be no turning back this time tomorrow.

Maybe this will be my holiday memory making miracle.

The greatest gift

Yesterday I attended a dinner for the homeless and hungry in our area. The group that put it on prepared 60 turkeys with all the trimmings. It has been about five years since I involved myself with this group, and now I'm wondering why it took me so long to do it again. And why I limit this involvement only to the holiday time.

The group that organized this goes about it with such respect. The gymnasium is decorated beautifully. The tables are set with real dishes and nice paper napkins. Candles burn in bowls of cranberries. People sit at the tables and are served, rather than standing in a line to receive their meal. Their plates are cleared for them, and dessert, coffee or tea brought.

My husband and I provided music for the first hour and a half. Although I love to sing, and humbly acknowledge that I do have a gift in my voice, I have never been a confident public singer. But yesterday, I felt as though I had been handed every confidence in the world. We sang "O Holy Night" and I felt as if I was transported to another realm while I was up on the stage.

I watched young and old sit and share a meal together. Homeless with wealthy. Scholars with illiterate. There were many points when I could not tell one from the other. Everyone was together - enjoying the season. Some serving and some being served. Hard to tell whether I did more serving than being served yesterday. My soul feels as though I received far more than I ever could give.

And it is at times like this that I understand. If we are not meant to be parents to our own biological child, my husband and I have many other callings in this life. I will most definitely be sad. I will miss knowing that we share a child. But we will work together to leave a legacy here on this earth. And we will continue to be served ourselves as we travel.

Yesterday was the best gift I've been given in years.

Scared and Excited

Today is day 31 of this cycle. Which means that I could start my period and my new cycle any day. Which also means I start the clomid on day 3, and we're off to the races.

We had such a lousy start to our day today, which was based on a lot of bottled up stuff I had been keeping inside, that I truly questioned whether we should be doing this or not. Again. My questioning today was based on the fact that lately I just feel like my husband and I have been off in so many directions we haven't had time for each other. Do we have time for a child?

Am I just stalling?

Am I terrified?

Am I petrified it will work and that I will miscarry again?

What if we actually carry a baby to term and have a new family member?

It's what I want and what scares me the most, all at the same time.

Hands around the world

Ok, he's not on the market any more. He has redeemed himself. I so dislike it when things are not solid between us that I tend to overreact.

I went for blood work today - the day 23 bloodwork ordered by the clinic. Sat between one woman who was obviously pregnant, and another who was just pregnant and having her first workup. I am taking it as a positive sign ... and I was proud of myself ... I resisted rubbing her belly like the fertility buddha that she reminded me of!

Reading this has made me realize just how close people can become through this journey of infertility, and luckily in many cases, pregnancies and deliveries. Even though I've never met Julie, I feel like I'm one of a few thousand honourary internet aunts to Charlie. All of this because of blogs we find and follow, and all of that because we have the unfortunate commonality of infertility.

Who'da thunk it?

One Husband for Sale or Rent - Cheap

I'm writing to save my husband's life tonight. If I don't write, I may do some serious damage to him. Man he is frustrating me tonight!!!

He and I have very different methods of coping with stress and dealing with anger. I acknowledge that I have a very high tolerance level but I get tired of always being the one to have to put up with his moods.

Now I also know that things are so good between us 99% of the time that I have become almost intolerable of the 1% when they are not good. I used to have unreasonable expectations that he would always be in a good mood because I am almost always in a good mood. Once I realized that wasn't going to happen, then I had to learn that when he gets in a mood it wasn't anything personal toward me.

But holy shit, you have to be way on top of your game all the time to do that! And tonight I was not on top of my game.

Yes, I know he is tired. And yes, I know that he teaches all day long (well from 8:30 to 3:30). And yes, I know that he has two Christmas concerts going on. And yes, he has staff parties at both of the schools he teaches at. And yes, he chooses to work out every day after work, plus do tae kwan do two or three times a week.

But you know what? I begin work at 8:00 a.m. and usually leave the office at about 7:00 p.m., on a good day. I go none stop in meetings, so the work happens after office hours. I am working with a totally unreasonable ass of a boss right now, and the one woman that I do respect and who I consider my mentor is leaving her job next week. And I come home to cook and tidy up, plus do all of the other daily living things that people are called to do. I support him when the kids are here, and I'm on the go just as much. But I don't bang doors and yell when I'm tired and frustrated.

Now he and I have a pact that we will always try to see Jesus in each other's eyes, and to be Jesus for each other. In fact, the first song we danced to at our wedding was called "I Can See Jesus in Your Eyes". But the human in me is having a hard time with that concept tonight.

Vent over.

No new news

We're kind of biding time at the moment. Ever since the botched "Operation Semen Drop" exercise last week, we've hardly discussed fertility, or rather the lack thereof, in this house. We also have hardly had a moment to spend with each other.

I have one round of blood work scheduled for this Friday morning - day 23 of my cycle.

The next round will be day 2 of my new cycle at which time my FSH will be tested. That same day I will start Clomid.

Weight 'n cee I guess.

How I Spent My Day Off

Today was an example of how important having a sense of humour is in this big game of infertility.

We had made the decision that today would be "the day of the semen sample drop off". It was a big deal for my husband! First, the concept of abstaining for three full days was almost incomprehensible to him. The whole deal actually required careful planning and orchestration as we live about 35 minutes from the hospital on a good traffic day, and the drop off could only happen between 8:00 and 8:45 a.m. Because of our work schedules, I was given the responsibility of actually making the drop off.

When the doctor at the clinic gave us the requisition, on a lovely robin's egg blue sheet, she told us that they were having some trouble with the lab. It seems that the lab at the Women's Hospital is presently closed because it is moving so they had made arrangements with the general hospital to have the tests conducted at their lab.

Because of this, she suggested that we call the lab at the general hospital a few days prior to taking the sample in. My husband made the call on Tuesday and got all the information we needed to be good to go for Operation Semendrop this morning. They gave very specific instructions about writing the time of "sample collection" on the pretty blue sheet, ensuring that we kept it at body temperature and ideally dropping it off within one hour of collection.

And oh, did I mention that today is my one day off before the holidays?

So we get up this morning, and walk through the timing required to carry this off. I had printed off the directions and even a picture of the building I needed to go to because one thing I have become relatively famous for is getting lost in my own house. I am definitely directionally challenged.

We have the precision timing down. He goes into the bathroom to collect the specimen while I go out and start the vehicle so it won't be too cold. He comes out with the deed done, and places the "required sterile container" in a brown paper bag. I already have the lovely blue requisition in my purse. We meet in the front hall, kiss and he passes off the bag to me ~ it was a perfectly timed relay race.

I oh so wittily toss over my shoulder as I leave at 7:45 a.m. "gee, hope I don't pull a Wil and Grace thing here and bang into a pole, knocking myself out" (remember that episode?) and jump into the heated vehicle.

Traffic cooperates, and even though I drove the whole way with the bag cradled carefully between my thighs to ensure the temperature was right, I arrive at the alternate lab at precisely 8:30 a.m. Fifteen minutes to spare! I park at a meter, plug some money in, and present myself and my package to the "specimen drop off counter".

At which time the tech looks at me and my blue form and says:
"We don't accept blue reqs here."

Now knowing that she is obviously incorrect and down a quart of caffeine, I smile and say "oh no, we called. We were told to bring it here", and hold out the bag for her to take.

Again she says:
"We do NOT accept blue reqs here".

To which I say, ever so sweetly, "but excuse me...it's just a piece of coloured paper. Isn't it really the contents of this bag that you need to do the work on?"

She sees that I'm not getting it. So she calls her supervisor on the phone.
"Hello? Do we accept blue reqs here? "
and then I hear
"well, you better come tell her because she's about ready to lose it".

She comes back to the counter and tells me that her supervisor is coming out to speak to me. I look at my watch and notice that the first hour is almost up.

The supervisor comes out, and in the hallway with a fair amount of pedestrian traffic, explains to me that the INFERTILITY clinic has made a mistake, and that the INFERTILITY doctor should never have told us to bring our SPERM sample to this lab. She tells me that I will have to take the SPERM sample over to another lab in another hospital and they will test it there. She says that my doctor at the INFERTILITY clinic made a mistake.

And then she makes her fatal mistake. She says:
"I know how you feel"
as she reaches to pat my arm.

I am not known for being very assertive, and definitely not known for getting angry, but with every thing I had in me, I looked this woman in the eye and through my clenched teeth told her that she most definitely did not know how I felt.

Then with every ounce of dignity I could muster up, I took my bag full of sperm, turned on my heel and left.

I make my way over two blocks to the hospital that houses the lab she has sent me to, find parking, and rush into this new lab. Again clutching my brown paper bag and pretty blue requisition form. Three women are standing behind this "specimen drop off" counter. I smile, hold out the bag and the pretty blue paper. A look of horror crosses all three faces, and I realize that my husband's sperm is about to be rejected yet again.

So I did the only thing I could do. I began to cry. Standing there in the hallway of the laboratory, holding a bag full of sperm and bawling. One of the three techs took pity on me. She explained that I had to take the sample up to the 6th floor in the adjoining hospital which is where they have a lab that does "this kind of analysis" and tells me to come with her...she'll take me up there herself.

Which she does. We get off the elevator and walk right up to the counter.

Of the Fertility Clinic that had made the referral in the first place.

I handed the sample to the woman behind the desk at 9:30 a.m. and told her to throw it in the garbage.

And then I went shopping.

Dubya Tumbler

My city was taken over by George W. Bush mania today. He came for two and a half fricking hours to say thank you to Canadians for the 9/11 support provided to diverted air passengers, and turned the city upside down. I had a meeting in one building this morning, and outside of that building, gathered in the parade square, were about 2000 protesters. I left that meeting to walk back to my office building about two hours later. The entire street was shut down because the protesters were taking it over. I met an elderly woman at the bus stop who was that nervous that she actually asked to walk with me.

And tell me this? Doesn't it kind of violate the whole secretness around the secret service if they let the public know that they have code names for the presidents? The paper published it today. George W. is affectionately referred to as "Tumbler".

Craziness.

Then I stopped at the drugstore on the way home to pick up the Clomid. I knew that it wouldn't be covered under my insurance but didn't expect to see this written on the receipt:

"Patient not entitled to this medication"

What do you think? A sign?

Questioning

We have wanted a baby for as long as we've been together. Odd as it sounds, now that we're on the cusp of starting clomid, I think we're both doing the serious double-take.

We have settled into a pretty comfortable routine, and last night as we spontaneously went out for a late dinner, we realized that our lives will change forever if this works.

I feel awful and selfish for questioning whether or not this is right for us....for me. I haven't picked up the prescription from the drug store yet. I can't believe I'm questioning this after everything we've discussed, thought about, prayed for and set our sights on.

I have to wonder whether my goal has been pregnancy or a baby. They are two very different goals.

Why does this have to be so difficult?

Save a turkey....

Couldn't resist sharing this picture. Happy belated Thanksgiving to our American neighbours!

Backslide and push forward

We're on the road. We had the appointment this morning. The doctor was amazing. She herself is an older woman ... very straight forward, no bullshit kind of woman. I love her.

We'll be starting clomid this next cycle. Hubby is most concerned about his ability to abstain for (to quote him) "three whole days!!!" before his test. We'll have to time that one. Gawd I'm considerate!

What was a shock though, was that the doctor mentioned that the file indicated they had a theory about what the cause of our miscarriage might have been. This is the first we've heard of it. We lost Brodie at about 21 weeks in 2002. We agreed to a post amnio the day we found out, and then we also authorized pathology after the d & c. When we went for our follow up appointments, we were told several times that there had been nothing conclusive found through any of the tests.

Today we were told that the theory was the placenta had failed to thrive. This theory is based on the fact that at almost 21 weeks, Brodie was only measuring about 17 weeks ~ which is why we were given the "choice" of either induction or a d&c. I never want to have that "choice" given to me again.

The doctor today explained how vital those first six weeks are in terms of the placenta and it's future.

I can't let that go. I've been going over in my head all of the things I didn't do in those first six weeks, and all the wrong things that I did do in those first six weeks. It was so unexpected and unplanned that I didn't even clue in that I might be pregnant until I was 8 weeks. I was still smoking, and even though I'm not a big drinker, I had beer several times during that time period.

I've spent two years working on the "it wasn't my fault" theory. I backtracked big time today on that theory and need to sit with this for a while.

Hubby had to take the day off since they can't bring a substitute teacher in just for a few hours. So I came home to a very nice, folic acid laden, portion controlled supper cooked and awaiting my arrival. He asked me to be sure to remember that I told him how awesome he is during the mood swings the doctor warned him to expect.

The thing that made me laugh the most today was the irony about the name thing I was stressing about earlier. What's important to know here is that the clinic is located in the women's/children's hospital and also that the last name I took by mistake years ago is the same name as the street my husband grew up on. So the only time that names got brought up today were (1) when they asked him if he used to live on that street when registering him and (2) when they told him that he had to deliver his sperm sample to a building that shares the same last name as his ex-wife!!! Justice prevailed today!

So here we go.

Tomorrow's appointment

So tomorrow is the big day. We have our first appointment at the fertility clinic. Odd as it sounds, since I was there once before when I was married by mistake, I can't remember what will happen during this first appointment.

I will get to check in by myself, though, so will avoid having hubby with me during that process. This is a good thing just in case the unfortunate "previous name" syndrome has a sudden reoccurance. That was stressing me out.

I've been having major breathing problems the last week or so. I don't know if it's stress or a viral infection that is going around. Stress is totally possible. I've made the decision to begin looking for another work assignment, and that's a big leap for me, especially with the possible outcome given our appointment tomorrow.

One minute at a time ... that's all we need to do.

Ya Ya

I had a meltdown today. Why is it that meltdowns are so painfully cathartic?

This has been building up for a while now. In fact, I think that my "sick days" last week were actually internal warning signs of the meltdown. My way of dealing with things is generally to be strong; soldier on; and then completely withdraw and retreat into myself and my house.

Only this way of coping has had to change since I met and married this most wonderful man in the world. He has given me many gifts during our time together, but I think the most precious gift has been the constant reassurance that I am worthy of many good things....something that I have not always believed for myself. And he won't allow me to withdraw and retreat for very long.

On the surface, I am an extroverted, fun loving, confident, intelligent woman who has it all together. I have an excellent job ~ senior management position in a large government department. I have a wonderful husband and two great step sons. I am in a leadership position in several community groups. We have many friends that we see regularly and are invited out often. Life is good, and I am on top of things emotionally, financially and socially.

Yes, people know that I have had struggles in my life. One failed marriage. A brother who committed suicide. A late term miscarriage. Infertility. But ... I am strong! I am woman! I can cope!

Well, inside of that surface picture lives the real me. The girl who constantly struggles with her weight. Who believes that everyone who looks at her sees a fat chick with triple chins. The one who blieves she has moved to a senior management position more out of luck than skill, and who will one day be revealed as the fraud she feels she really is at work. And the friends? Some days I think I am only invited because it's really my husband they want, and I'm part of the package.

And then there's the whole producing of babies thing. The skinny ex-wife, she devil that she is, still managed to produce two lovely specimens. I, on the other hand, have failed to bring one forth and it's not looking promising.

So instead of staying in retreat and withdraw mode, I melted today. I lost it. Sat at the kitchen table just a-bawling and a-snottin. Cried about work and the changes I'm facing there. Bawled about my weight and my inability to commit to a food or exercise plan. Sobbed over my fear at facing our appointment at the fertility clinic on Thursday. Honked over the unfairness of us not being able to share a child together, and trying to come to make myself feel better by saying that it's enough to have two step sons to "share" with my husband.

I melted down. And my darling, awesome, incredible, loving husband sat there and let me wail. He passed me tissue. He held my hand. He told me how much he loved me. He talked to me about focusing on the journey instead of the destination. He even sang to me at one point.

And after I stopped crying, he did something that will score him points with me for the rest of his life.

He watched the entire movie "Divine Secrets of the Ya Ya Sisterhood" with me. And cried.

I love this man.

I jumped

My period arrived with a whimper yesterday but it's continued with a vengence today. Although my cycles are getting longer, my periods seem to be getting heavier and worse for the first day or two of each one. Makes me wonder if I'm peri-menopausal.

So even though it sucks that yet again, we were not successful in trying to conceive, for some reason I'm not as sad at it's arrival this month. This last week was not a good one for me. I really was in a funk of some kind, and it peaked in a big way on Wednesday. Everything came together all at once to just push me over the edge.

Work has just been unbelievable of late ~ lack of shared vision; too many masters at the helm; too many heads up arses. I went back to the office on Wednesday, and my direct supervisor was the one responsible for pushing me off the edge of the cliff on which I was already standing. I actually must remember to thank him for that push, because it spurred me to action. I've been contemplating moving out of this department for a while now, and his actions on Wednesday convinced me that now is the time to move. I am part of a succession planning leadership development program that our government is running right now, and they have been pushing the six of us who are involved to consider accepting assignments that would be outside of our comfort zone. I was a bit reluctant to do this because of everything else that is going on in my life right now, but Wednesday convinced me that I'd rather be somewhere, developing my leadership qualities and being outside of my comfort zone, than here working for a male chauvinist who doesn't give a shit about the department I'm responsible for running.

Then I came home yesterday to find supper cooked, the house cleaned, and a huge bouquet of flowers on the table for me. My husband said he just felt that I needed a pick me up. How much do I love that man??? I haven't shared the start of the period news with him yet. We have a dinner date scheduled for tonight, and then we're going out to hear a friend's band at a local pub. Guess I better break the news before we leave the house! I think the fact that our appointment at the clinic is scheduled for next week is cushioning both us right now.

I guess I realized this week that I can't keep putting my life on hold because of the "mights" in our world ... I might get pregnant; I might get a better job; either hubby or I might go back to school for a masters degree; we might not be able to afford this or that.....might is a word that has been holding me back. I have to get back to living in the moment...the day....and just handling whatever comes along. And I need to jump off the cliff more often.

Weighted down

Today is day 30 of this latest cycle. It seems like my cycles are going faster and faster of late. And I'm totally out of control with my weight. I've been on an eating binge the last few weeks. I can't even begin to imagine what they're going to say at the fertility clinic next week about my weight. It's the one thing that I could be controlling, and I'm not doing anything about it.

I seriously wonder if I'm not in a bit of a depressed funk right now. I was off on Thursday and Friday last week. We had a snow storm over the weekend, and I took Monday off as well ... meaning that except for that party with the pregnant beauty on Saturday night, I hadn't moved out of the house since last Wednesday. And I was quite fine with that. If I could have figured out a way to stay home today I would have done it. I just don't feel like facing the world right now.

Laughter IS the best medicine

Enjoy...it brought a smile to my face on this dreary Monday morning.

http://www.oliviadrab.com/infertile/OD1.jpg

Caviar, artichoke heart dip and morning sickness

My hubby plays in a band. In that band are three other guys, one of whom is a real piece of work. We'll call him D. You know how you just have some people in your life that you simply put up with and work around? D is one of those people. He and his wife, whom I adored, split up just before Christmas last year. We've been very careful not to get into that "split the friends" up scenario with them. We see her by choice on a regular basis, and see him through the band on an as needed basis.

Last week hubby came home from band practice and said that we would be going to a house party in a very ritzy part of the city on Saturday the 13th, as D's new woman felt it time for his friends to meet her friends.

So off we trot last night, over to this very beautiful, swanky 100 year old house in the south end of the city. In the middle of our first snow storm by the way, which continues on into today. And we proceed into this house, filled with about 30 of her friends.....women in evening gowns and men in suits, all smiling and making social chat with each other. And there were his friends.....all six of us. The three of us women who are married to the guys in the band (we call ourselves the Band-Aides) are sitting in one of the three living rooms, talking with each other and trying to decide whether we like caviar or not (after we figured out that it actually was caviar) when in walks a beautiful young woman.

The guys are in the living room with us, just beginning to play some music.

She of beauty speaks up and says "oh please do not play any sad songs. I am completely exhausted from crying this week."

We bite, of course, and ask why she was crying.

"I'm three months pregnant. Look! I had to buy maternity pants today. Can you believe it? I can't believe it! My friends are convinced that I am carrying twins. And maybe I am. Hard to say. I'm awfully emotional. And eat! Wow...some days I have an appetite and the next day I'm just so turned off food...........and I've had no morning sickness at all....this has been a dream pregnancy...really!"

and it went on...and on....and on. And she of beauty sat there, popping caviar toasts into her perfectly pregnant mouth, in her oh so cute new maternity pants, threatening to cry.

And I could see myself in all my excitement of two years ago. Saying many of the same things. And being so happy that I was experiencing no morning sickness, not realizing that perhaps that was not a good sign.

And so I sat beside her most of the night, smiling at my awesome husband, singing with him, and listening to her rave about this.... her first pregnancy.

And I said a silent prayer to myself for her and her unborn child.

And then I tried the caviar. I'll stick with artichoke heart dip and wheat thins.

Soft sounds of first snow

The first snow of the year is here. I'm upstairs, playing on the computer. I can hear hubby and the boys beating each other up playing hockey in the basement, and the dawgs are wrestling each other in the living room. Every once in a while one of us goes to the window to see how much snow is actually staying on the ground.

These are the sounds of family life.

Even though I get frustrated with this step mess, and think that I am a step monster mother at times, I do know how blessed I am to have these two awesome creatures as part of my daily life.

This morning was a case in point. Hubby had taken Frodo to hockey at the ungodly hour of 5:30 a.m., while Mini Me and I slept soundly in our beds . At about 6:30 a.m., I heard this knock at my door. It was Mini Me, wondering where everyone was. He jumped under the covers and snuggled with me for a while... we talked about the hockey game he had gone to with his dad and brother the night before ... and then we went downstairs, shivering under a blanket together, eating toast and watching some horrible cartoons on television. Laughing. Chatting at times. Not talking at all at others.

These are the sounds of family life.

And so as I sit here, listening to the noise of kids and their father playing in the basement and snow softly falling outside, I close my eyes and inhale. And realize yes, I am indeed blessed.

Yep...scared.

I know that I will probably be ok as a mom. I think that part of what's going on with me is that I'm terrified about this appointment at the fertility clinic.

What if it doesn't work?

What if it does work?

What will happen?

Will I have to go through all the tests again?

With the history of twins in my family, what are the chances of multiples?

Can I physically carry a child to term?

I'm terrified.

Questioning my parenting skills

I'm looking for an instructional video on how to be a stepmother, because I'm sure not doing a good job here.

When I first started seeing their father seriously, Frodo and Mini Me were 3 and 5 years old. Now they're 7 and 9, and I don't feel like I'm any further ahead than I was four years ago. After my husband and I moved in together, things started to go off the rails when the kids were around. I realized that I was turning into an oozing pot of resentment because I was being treated by all three of the testosterone carriers like nothing better than a cook, maid and disciplinarian.

I did some reading on stepfamilies. That's the social worker in me ... research and get thyself prepared with a case plan. I found an article on something called "disengagement" which made a lot of sense to my 12-stepping self. It's similiar to the Al-Anon philosophy of detaching with love.

So I sat my husband down, and explained to him that I loved him and the kids, but that I loved myself as well. And I laid out the boundaries. I was not their mother. They had a mother. Therefore, I would not try to act like their mother, or even their parent. Which means, for example, that if I happen to be cooking, I will include them in the meal plan, but don't get up and walk away from the table assuming that I will also do the dishes. I had a list of other stuff that I wouldn't do, including disciplining them (because you can't have your cake and eat it too), monitoring whether he was getting them out the door on time, clean and dressed appropriately, nagging him, etc.

And this has been for the most part working. I no longer am the bitch that does nothing but nag at everyone to pick up after themselves, eat with their mouth closed, wash their face, etc. And it was working because my husband took that stuff on while the kids were here.

But lately he has been slowing down on that stuff. And the 9 year old is turning out to be (God forgive me for saying this) the most spoiled rotten child I have ever met. His behaviour is less than likeable most days, and I'm not exaggerating. This child will literally throw himself on the floor, crying and bawling, to get what he wants. He will look his father straight in the eye and refuse to do something he was just told to do. He will manipulate. He has the "gimme right now" attitude, and then when he does get whatever it was he wanted, he has total disregard for caring for it. I can't begin to tell you how many baseball caps he has "had to have", only to have us buy it for him and him lose it within 24 hours.

And through it all, I have been growing the understanding that on the nights that the kids are here, I am excess luggage. This became glaringly clear on Friday night. Now understand that my husband and the kids' mother had made plans for the kids to be here all weekend, and I wasn't even consulted. That's another story, and I've dealt with that piece of it (Grant me the courage to change the things I can...) with my husband. Anyhow, back to Friday night.

I've been working 12 and 13 hour days at my job lately. So I'm at work at 7:30 a.m. Friday, and finally get to leave at 6:30 p.m. to go home. I had been talking to my husband earlier in the afternoon and told him I'd stop and get groceries on the way home, and he agreed to cook up the tacos we had decided upon for supper. Ok, so I didn't actually say the words "save me some supper". My bad.

I walk into the house at about 8:15 p.m., dragging the groceries. Hubby gets up off the couch and goes out to the truck to get the rest of the groceries ... his face looking like he just ate the sourest pickle in the world. Not a word to me ... no "how was your day?" or "glad you're home" or "thanks for getting the groceries after your 11 hour day hon". But that's ok. I'm understanding that he has the kids, and he also has had a long day.

He drops the groceries on the table, and then goes back to the couch, leaving me to unpack and put away. Which I stupidly did without saying anything to him ... brewing and stewing all the time. Then I look on the counter, and there's an extra large pizza box. Empty.

Not only had he not cooked what we had planned for supper, he hadn't even saved me one piece of frigging pizza for supper.

I was pissed. You can imagine how the rest of the weekend has gone. The kids have been disrespectful to me, he hasn't kept me informed about where anyone is going or what their schedules are, and on it goes. I cooked breakfast this morning, and Mr. 9 year old decided to throw a fit. That was the last straw for me. He sat there at the table, refusing to eat, with his chin literally resting on his plate. I told him to get his chin off the plate. So then he started to kick my chair. I told him to stop. When we finally got up from the table, he walks away leaving his plate and cutlery on the table. I told him to take it to the sink. "I didn't eat" says Mr. Attitude.

So I do the dishes, willingly because they really did have to get to Sunday School and Mass, and hubby had to help them get bathed and dressed. I leave his plate on the table. Now I would have left it there all day until he put it away. Hubby comes home after dropping them off, and puts the plate away. So once again, this child has learned that bad behaviour is acceptable and that he can get what he wants through inappropriate action or inaction.

My husband is a teacher and has much more patience with kids than I do. When he came home from dropping them at Sunday School, we were able to have a talk. We are very lucky in that we do have good communication, and as long as we both do the "I feel" and not the "you dirty rotten prick, you always..." thing, we can resolve almost anything. He asked me if I had something on my mind. I told him how I was feeling. Like an outsider in my own home. Like I could easily check into a hotel on the nights the kids were here and no one would even notice (well, maybe the dawgs, but even that I'm not sure of). Like I felt that he and his ex wife made mega plans all the time without consulting me, and that even though 99 times out of 100 I'm not going to disagree, I want to be given the opportunity.

He listened. He said all the right things. And knowing my husband, he will take this and do what he can about it. I have to learn to accept those things that I cannot change, but it feels good to be taking responsibility for what I can change or ask to have changed.

But the last thing I said to him, before I completely broke down in tears, was that all of this was making me question my ability to be a mother.

Are we making a huge mistake trying to introduce yet another child into this step-mess? Do I have a freaking clue about how to be a mother? A parent? Am I out of my mind? I'm almost 42 years old. Pretty set in my ways apparently, judging from this step family experience.

I'm on my way....

There's a song by the Proclaimers that goes "I'm on the way from misery to happiness again". My hubby's band always dedicates it to me whenever they play it ... and it's in my head big time today.

Because we're on our way. Whether it's to misery or happiness, or a bit of both, yet to be determined.

We came home yesterday to receive a letter giving us our appointment time for the fertility clinic. Thursday, November 21st at 9:15 a.m.

The letter was a trip in itself. An obvious form letter, it's addressed to me only and does the Dear First Name Last Name thing, which always cracks me up. It goes on to tell us that we're being seen by Dr. Dr. So-and-So (must be really qualified!) and is signed lovingly by, and I quote, "The Fertility Clinic". So not only is infertility a living organism in my life, apparently The Fertility Clinic is a living, breathing, letter writing being as well!

Attached to the letter were two questionnaires, colour coded pink and blue just in case we couldn't figure it out I guess. Hubby's was two pages. Mine was EIGHT pages long!

So here's the thing I'm most stressed about with this referral. I was married (just for a minute, by mistake) before and we were fixated on getting pregnant. I don't think I really understood that there would be a baby as a result of any pregnancy, but I was married, and married people got pregnant, right? After a year of no success, my doctor referred me to the fertility clinic ... the same one we're going to this month.

Now this is going to sound silly, but my real husband (the one I should have waited for!) hates it whenever someone asks me if I ever went by the last name Asshole (not my real former married name but a good description of it's owner!) and it causes stress between us. I know it's silly, and we've had a few arguments about it. There are times when I can't control this happening, and links with medical records are one of those times. It happened when we were at this hospital during our pregnancy and loss two years ago, and it drove him crazy. I even went so far as to call the medical records section afterward and ask them to please link my files together and not ask if I ever went by that surname ... find another way to know that I did and move on! So of course now we have to go together on the 21st, and my surname has changed again. We have married since our pregnancy, and I have to go through all the change the name thing again with them.

Oh...the silly things we focus on when we're trying not to stress about what might happen regarding the infertility battle. So I really am on my way from misery to happiness again ... or am I on my way from happiness to misery? I'm not sure.

Pumpkins

Happy Halloween! We have a neighbourhood that really gets into this night. Everyone decorates their homes, are out on the porches waiting for the trick or treaters, pumpkins glowing ... my next door neighbours even shoot off fireworks every year.

These neighbours have two kids. Their daughter, E., is just in grade one, and their son, A., was born last April. She was nervous to tell me that she was pregnant, and it was one of my first close experiences after our miscarriage of having to smile and reassure someone that I was happy for her pregnancy. And I was. It was just so hard to watch her get bigger every time I saw her, and then to see her bring home her little boy.

But tonight, I fell in love with him. He was dressed up like a little pumpkin ... looking just like one of those Anne Geddes pictures. Sitting in his swing, head held up really straight and smiling for all he's worth at everyone! And then when she brought him outside ... he reached his little arms right out to me ... and gurgled and smiled. My heart overflowed.

I want a little pumpkin.

Be the change ...

I've been away all week, participating in an executive leadership program. This was the second module in a six month experience. Jim Clemmer, an author who focuses on leadership development, gave this workshop. Much of it was the usual management vs leadership stuff, but the second day asked us to focus on ourselves. You can't give what you don't have .... be the change you want to see in the world kind of stuff.

We started out with a visualization exercise that put us in a hot air balloon, lifting us off the ground and time travelling to any point in the future that we wanted. For some reason my mind went to the year 2020 ... 16 years from now.

It was amazing! Even in the midst of all this infertility crap, and sometimes feeling like such a failure because I can't seem to produce what some other women bring forth so easily ... I felt so energized, focused, centered and affirmed after this visualization exercise.

I saw hubby and I living in a slightly bigger, cape cod home, not far from where we are living now ... just more water frontage and trees. I saw Frodo and Mini-Me at their ages of 25 and 23 ... happy, settled and healthy. I also saw another boy ... apparently our son. He was in his teens although I couldn't place an exact age. And he was healthy, happy, loved and enjoying life to the fullest!

Hubby and I were still the best of friends. Things were not drastically different ... we weren't rich; we were still involved in our community; we were still in love. Oh ... I was skinnier and apparently magically had begun to enjoy working out.

I have not been able to let go of that experience. It was wonderful.

Be the change you want to see in the world. I guess I need to start taking the steps to be that change, if even in my own attitude and way of looking at life.

Grown ups eat better....

I'm packing for a week long business trip that I'm leaving on today. This, after a weekend of being by myself and eating not much other than cinammon buns, chocolate chip cookies and the grand capper last night - pizza. I should not be allowed to stay home by myself. I'm not grown up enough.

I'm trying to find my stretchy leggings to take with me. I used to wear them to go to the gym, but then discovered that they're really comfortable to run around the house in after you've had a food binge weekend like mine. Only they're missing! Oh I have a few other pairs, but the lycra in them has all given away it's stretch, and the crotch area is ripped in most of them from ignoring the "do not put me in the dryer" instructions.

My packing is interesting:

• business dress for two days ~ check
  
• casual dress for the other two days ~ check
  
• crotchless stretch pants for the hotel room ~ check (but whoah, that sounds bad!)
  
• bedside reading "Taking Control of Your Fertility" and Ann Rule's latest book ~ interesting mix but check
  

So I'll be computer-free for the next few days as I'm not taking a laptop with me. One of the places that I'm headed to mid-week is an executive leadership experience which is taking place in a back to nature, granola type place in the middle of freakin' nowhere, so why bother to take the laptop?

And by Thursday night when I get home, after not having seen my honey for a week, I'll be ummmm busy. And I just realized that if I leave the word "crotchless" in this post, I'm likely to get some interesting google hits. Frig it. I'm leaving it all.

Resurfaced Feelings

My honey called again this morning....man, do I miss him! He had a good time at the wedding. This was the first time his family has been together since 1986. I can't even imagine going that long without seeing my family. Especially since he is so into family ... which is why I think us having a child together is so important to him.

I had long ago come to grips with the reality that I might never have a child of my own. In my first marriage, I had been the whole fertility clinic route. Charting, temping, medication, tests, laperscopy ... and nothing happened. It was strange. The doctors told me they could find no medical reason I wasn't conceiving. So I had settled with myself that I was going to be a childless woman. And convinced myself that I could be ok with that reality.

Then along came my husband...soulmate...best friend. And then along came the child that was never supposed to be mine. And all those feelings that I thought I had dealt with came crashing back.

I want to be a mother.

I want to be a mother.

Dammit.

I want to have a child with this magnificent man. And he wants to have a child with me.

So we're back to square one. Going to the clinic again, and I'm nervous. I don't even know when we'll actually have an appointment ... and I'm already nervous.

I want this....

Ok...so perhaps posting a picture of a pregnant belly isn't the coolest thing to do in a blog that tends to focus on infertility, but I just thought this one was so awesome! It really reminded me of the miracle that pregnancy is ... and once again how badly I want it.

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Gratitude for my life today

I've been reading so many positive comments in blogs of late regarding how very much husbands of my infertile blogs friends are loved. And it got me to thinking about my own ... especially since he flew off to another province this morning to attend his sister's wedding. We won't see each other now until the end of next week - the longest period we've been apart since we met.

My husband is an incredible man. Incredible doesn't even really begin to describe it, but it's one word that works.

The only regret that we have about our lives is that we didn't meet each other twenty years ago, but then again, we wouldn't be the people we are today if we had met then.

We met at a party several years ago, and it truly was one of those moments when I knew I had found a soul mate. I had spent most of my life living with walls securely up around my heart. This awesome man showed me how to let the walls down. Since I've been with him, I notice that life is sweeter. It's easier to smile at people, and I want to be a better person. He can see the good in any situation, and he keeps me grounded. He always says that we could have fun in a ditch together, and he's right.

I dropped him off at the airport this morning, and immediately began missing him. And it's not like we don't both have very busy separate lives outside of each other, but our priority is each other ... an experience I've never had before.

I tingle when he walks into a room.

He calls, and my heart does a little leap.

He already is an incredible father to his two boys, and I know that if we are ever blessed with a child of our own, that child will be the luckiest little person around because of their daddy.

I am so grateful that this wonderful, loving, giving, caring, exciting, incredible, sexy, handsome hunk of a man has chosen me to be his best friend, soul mate and life partner.

God I miss him!

Another leg on the journey

So the doctor's appointment yesterday went well. I should clarify that the doctor that I referred to yesterday with the horrible bedside manner is not my general practitioner doctor, whom I had the appointment with yesterday.

She was pleased that we have finally decided to accept her suggestion of a referral to the fertility clinic, and took no time at all in filling it out. She also offered to go through my medical file and pull together all results from my previous involvement at the clinic. She thinks that this might save some steps and time when we do get our appointment.....important given, in her words, my "advanced maternal age". Hmmm.....hadn't thought about myself as suffering from "advanced maternal age syndrome" in quite a while. That was the label on my file two years when I discovered my pregnancy. I guess I'm even more advanced now. I always was an overachiever!

Hubby was pleased that I had made the request. He's not sure how far he wants to take it, but as he said, one step at a time. Let's see how he feels when he has to wake me up with a basal therometer instead of a kiss and a cup of coffee. Wait....let's see how I feel about that!!! I prefer the coffee and kiss routine I think!

So we're off on another leg of this journey through the wonderful land of infertility. I'm not sure how I'm feeling. I remember how obsessed I got with it all when I was at the clinic before, and I've been working so hard not to obsess of late. Even though I have been, it's been quietly, by myself and in this blog. This will bring the obsession into daily routine and conversation. It has lots of ups, but I also am so afraid to get my hopes up again.

On a brighter note, I just ran into a coworker and friend whose wife has suffered two miscarriages in the last eighteen months. Both times they were devastated, and although I've never met her, I had sent a card and loaned them a book that we had found helpful during our loss. He shared with me this morning that she is due in April 2005, is suffering through major bouts of morning sickness, and loving every single minute of it. It's nice to hear some good news, especially when it's from people that I know can appreciate the miracle of what they are now experiencing. I'm praying for them. Like I told him, there's a belief that the sicker the stickier. Let's hope that's true for them.

Unwanted company...unexpected request...

Monday Monday, can't take that day...la la dee da ... how does that song go?

Doesn't much matter. What does matter is that today was cd 38, but I woke up to my good friend and constant companion, Ms. Unwanted Flo, moving in for the week.

I have a doctor's appointment scheduled for this morning. I was going to have an internal since I remembered the other day that I hadn't had one in almost two years. Hard to believe. Me, who used to spread her legs for this lovely doctor every six weeks or so after a long few years fighting dysplasia. I was one of those fortunate few who is in that .01% of the statistic that does not respond to the laser treatment, and had the treat of having more and more treatments at the hands of the doctor with the worst bedside manner in the world for five years. Yay me! I love being different!!! After our miscarriage, I went back for one follow up appointment in November 2002 and haven't been back since. I guess I'll have to schedule another appointment to experience the joy of receiving the cold instrument at a later date.

Oh and while we're jumping on the bandwagon, I figured I might as well talk to her about getting a mammogram today too. After all, I am now at that age where I should have my breasts trampled, squeezed and poked on an annual basis.

I don't even want to think about the lecture I'm going to get about my weight. I have promised myself, though, that I will not add to my own misery today by allowing her to make me step on the scale. I know I'm overweight. I know I have to get serious about hauling it off. I do not need a medical professional to reemphasize this with me today. Not today. I'm cranky enough as it is.

On the up side (because I am Pollyanna and I do have to have an upside) this unwelcome arrival gives me another month to get back on the weight loss and exercise kick that I so desperately need to embrace and get serious about.

Hmmm....just as I was about to send this to post, my hubby called from work. He has been thus far against us engaging in any activity at our local fertility clinic. Some of that is because he has trouble with the fact that I already went that route in my lousy first marriage with my asshole first husband who didn't know the meaning of being a father to his children from his first marriage ... and some of his reluctance is because he truly believed we would be able to conceive without assistance. When I was at the fertility clinic 10+ years ago, I underwent every test to determine if there was any reason I wasn't conceiving, and there was no medical or physical reason found. Today I believe that God was protecting me from having offspring with an asshole that would then require me to remain attached to him for the rest of my life, and as much as I want children, I'm grateful that I don't have to have any contact with my asshole ex (did I mention he is an asshole?) today.

Anyhow, I digress. Back to hubby's call. He left this morning kind of sad because he knew my period had started. He feels it as deeply each month as I do, and he's not afraid to say that....one of the many many things I love about him. So just as I'm about to hit "post" on this, he calls and asks if I have given any thought lately to asking my doctor for a referral back to the clinic. I actually have been thinking about it of late, but didn't think it worth mentioning to him as he has always been opposed to it as an option.

This morning he thinks I should ask the doctor for a referral to the clinic.

Wow.

Monday, Monday...........

To pause or not to pause ...

It's day 37 of another long cycle.

I don't think that I'm pregnant. Lately my mind starts to wander into other areas of possibility. Like how warm I've been during the days of the last few weeks. And how tired I've been...sleeping like a log. Does this mean I'm entering menopause?

My mother, who had trouble conceiving but did manage to do so with me by the time she was 32, began menopause by the time she was 39. Since I've followed in her conceiving-challenged footsteps, will I also follow in her early change footsteps?

I'm fairly certain I'm not pregnant because I've conducted two home tests ~ both with negative outcomes. I also feel some symptoms today that could indicate I'm going to start my period any time now.

As much as I want to be pregnant, and to have a child of our own, I have these other thoughts once in a while. There are times when I wish someone would just confirm with me that it's never going to happen ... or that I'm now in menopause ... or believe it or not, that I have to have a total hysterectomy ... so that I wouldn't have to go through this waiting/guessing/hoping/second guessing game every month only to have it end in my feeling like a failure once more.

I hate trying to figure out why this eludes us.

Why?

Wow...there is so much sadness around these days. I've been reading through the blogs that I peruse daily, and so many of these women are having incredibly, unfair, incomprehensible shitty situations occuring in their lives.

Why is it that something that is supposed to be a given ... something that women have been doing for thousands of years ... evades so many of us today?

Are we asking for so much?

All we want is what we were always told we could expect to have in life. In fact in some cases, we might have been raised to believe that it was our duty.

When I got married in the Catholic Church, I was asked if I would raise my children Catholic. I was thinking "just let me have ONE frigging child and I'll raise it right on the steps of the church!!!!"

I listen to people moan about their kids...neglect them....complain about being tied down. I would give anything to have a sore back from being pregnant; swollen feet; be tied to the house helping with homework and teethbrushing with a child that looked just like hubby and I.

I dream about that child. It's always a boy. He has hubby's build and outgoing personality, and my work ethic and sense of humour. He has a strong faith, and a wicked laugh. He gives the best hugs, and he picks me dandelions. He believes in Santa and loses his teeth.

And he only exists in my imagination.

Why? Why? Why?

What I do have....

It's Thanksgiving weekend here in Canada. I'm determined to swing out of this bitchy mood that I'm in, and become more tuned into the many many things that I have to be thankful for at this point in my life!

• the most incredible husband who loves me just where I am any time, even on the sitting on the couch watching tv eating chip with my glasses on, sweatpants rolled under my belly, hair stuck up like Something About Mary days
• two incredible stepsons that bring a whole new dimension to my previously organized and somewhat sedate life
• a family that, although sometimes puts the "fun" in dysfunctional, loves each other and are good, decent human beings
• my faith in God and my Christian community of friends
• a job that is challenging and rewarding ~ with opportunities presenting themselves on an almost daily basis of late
• a stable house that has become a home filled with laughter, music, testosterone and dirty socks from the afore mentioned testosterone carriers
• my health, both physical and mental
• good teeth and a reasonable singing voice

So I haven't managed to bring forth a babe. Perhaps I am meant to bring many other things to this life. Maybe I need to stop focusing so hard on what I don't have and get back to being grateful for what I do have today.

Just a thought.

Thankfulness and worry...

Today is cd 26 and the game begins. Will this be a 28 day cycle...or will it drag out to 34 days like it did last month, driving me crazy and sending me to buy double hpts again? And now I've allowed a new nag to wander into my turmoil this month...is it possible that these lengthening cycles mean I'm perimenopausal???

I'm trying to remember what will be, will be.

This weekend is Thanksgiving weekend and I'm happy to report heartwarming news. Last night at dinner Hubby asked Mini Me and Frodo what they were thankful for this year.

Mini Me listed being thankful for me before his thankfulness for the PS2 game!

I have arrived.

Frodo, on the other hand, is thankful for footballs. Gotta love boys!

I need a life....

Today was a good day. I slept in, and awoke to a torrential downpour outside, which snarled traffic beyond belief. On a good day it takes me 30 minutes to get from my community into the city and then to my parking lot beside the office. Today it would have taken over an hour ... so I made an executive decision to stay home for part of the morning and work from here. Good choice! It got me off to a great start, which was much needed as the day progressed.

Why is it that we try to cram 12 hours worth of work into an 8 hour day lately? It's a sad statement when you're leaving your office at 7:30 p.m., and there are still people there to whom to say goodnight! But I digress....

Two things that happened today that made my day:
1. I won a contest to get free product from the weight loss program I used in 1998 to successfully lose 60 lbs. Only downside is that the centre that is making me the offer is quite a distance from my home, and the reason it worked for me before was that I went in daily. This would not be an option this time around, but I feel motivated to do this again.

2. I had a pain on my right side all day long. Now normally this wouldn't seem a good thing, but it felt suspiciously like an ovulation or implantation pain. Now I might just be into some wishful thinking here, because of course it might also be the start of my period....but hey, I can live positively for a while right???

As busy as I am, I feel like I need to get a life when these are the things that excite me!

One day at a time....

I think that I'm finally beginning to understand what it is that is within my control in that whole big list of things of current events in my life that I listed last week.

N-O-T-H-I-N-G!

And once I accepted that, and handed it all over, things took on a life of their own.

My job situation has seemingly worked itself out. The person I'm currently replacing won't be back for another six months; the reorg did not eliminate my home position; and when he does return, it looks like I'm going to have an interesting new assignment to move onto anyhow.

The kids have been really great the last week or so, and Knothead hasn't showed her horns at all. In fact, she agreed to let us take the kids with us to my folks for Thanksgiving dinner next weekend. Wow!

A bunch of us that didn't get a chance to say goodbye to our good friend who died a few weeks ago are organizing a benefit in her name to raise money to buy her grandson a working dog. He has autism.

The anniversary date of our loss came and went, and I survived.

And the one thing that I CAN control....my weight and eating plan...seems to be coming back under control. I am feeling motivated to get my ample ass back in gear and on track. I've put in four good days so far.

One day at a time...one day at a time.

The anniversary

It is the eve of the second anniversary of finding out that our first baby was no longer alive. I've been publishing the journal that my husband and I had started to write to our baby boy in another blog http://journalforbrodie.blogspot.com/ and it's been really therapeutic.

To quote Julianna ( http://myeggsarecooked.blogspot.com/ ), I feel like I'm in a pool of calm the past few days.

I'll take it.

Funky Wit...or Witty Funk?

I guess I've been in a bit of a funk of late, and haven't been doing the journalling or blogging that usually helps me to work through funks. I had every intention of this blog being a positive, uplifting, and yes dare I say witty, sarcastic view of my life. It's turned out to be a funked out bitch list on some days.

But you know what? That kinda sums up where my life is right now! Let's see. In no particular order of importance or magnitude, here are the current activities and issues in my daily life:

• married into a step-mess with two awesome little guys for step sons who are being coached by their knothead mother to hate and ignore me....that's always fun
• overweight by about 40 lbs and not seeming to be able to get motivated to do much about it....except lay on the couch and pop bon bons (ok ok....Skor bits really) into my mouth while hubby works out addictively
• in the unique position of reorganizing the part of the department I am currently directing on an acting basis, the result of which will be that my home position will no longer exist, and trying to smile and welcome back the person that I was acting on behalf of so that I can go back to a position at the level I started here in 10 years ago....oh and leading the employee recognition program in the section while doing so....way to feel valued
• trying to deal with the sudden death of a close friend whom I didn't get the chance to say goodbye to
• approaching the two year marking of the date that I lost the only child I managed to conceive (September 27)
• making like a bunny on a regular basis and never even a hint that I might be able to conceive again!

So, although I know there are folks in this world that have much much more on their plate, this list helps me to give myself slight permission to be in a funk!

Now my job is to figure out which of these I have control over, take some steps to control and/or change those funky situations .... and stop dwelling on the shit I can't change.

Oh yeah, and get wittier in my blogging!

When you wish upon a star....

I play games with myself. If I can lose 5 lbs, I'll get pregnant. If I'm really really nice to all the evil people in my life, I'll be rewarded with a baby. If I really play the star light, star bright game honestly and wish upon what is truly the first star I see tonight, we'll conceive.

And this week it was convincing myself that since the world had lost my friend Sylvia, and I was on day 35 of this long cycle, surely that meant I was carrying the soul that was meant to enter the world as my friend's earthly body left.

What a load of bunk. I came home from her funeral yesterday and started my period.

I really have to get my head into reality.

A Phenomenal Woman Is Gone

Today I received a phone call telling me that my good friend and former coworker, Sylvia, passed away last night. The last time I had spoken to her was when she called, woke me out of a sleep, to scream in delight at the news that I was pregnant. She had found out from a mutual acquaintance. I never did call her back to tell her we had lost the baby.

She was the kind of friend that you could fall out of touch with, pick up the phone a year later and pick up exactly where you left off. I used to refer to her as my "grown up low maintenance" friend.

A short time ago she was diagnosed with cancer ... stage 4. She kept it fairly quiet, travelling to other parts of the country in search of an alternative treatment, before finally going public here and seeking traditional treatment.

She had requested a few weeks ago that the crew of us that used to hang out together, get together for a girls weekend. We never were able to make that happen because she went so quickly.

And she and I didn't speak again before her death. We had a good game of phone tag going. I'd call her, leave a message to tell her I loved her and was thinking about her ... she'd call back, not leaving a message but I'd see her number on my call minder when I'd come home ... so I'd call again, get her machine and leave another message. The most recent message I left her was this past Sunday morning.

Oddly enough, the friend that called me today to relay the news of her passing said that Sylvia had just told her how pleased she was that we had managed to connect and talk in the last few weeks.

So even though we didn't, I'm at peace with the knowledge that she died thinking we had talked. Perhaps we did. Sometimes when you're really good friends that have that connection, your hearts speak to each other without words.

She was one of those phenomenal, energetic, loving, life filled, crazy ass women that bring joy to this world. I will miss her.

I'd rather dream of pickles....

Weird dream time.


I don't often remember my dreams. Except for that one where a group of Hell's Angels took over my house, pulling up in camper trailers and dressed in farmer's overalls. It was a long dream that was very detailed and involved my running to a friend's house (a mansion located on the same street as my dreary little duplex), asking for a place to hide out while the Hell's Angels were busily tilling the land behind my house. She brought me in but told me I could only stay 30 minutes, have one hot dog and then had to return to my place because it was her daughter's birthday. I actually had that one analyzed by a friend who does dream analysis as part of her psychotherapy practice.


But this morning I woke up ... well I was nudged up by the dawgs who don't realize that I'm allowed to sleep in on Sundays and get concerned if I'm not out of bed by 6:30 every morning .... unless hubby is home and then I'm just another time drain on him as far as they're concerned and they'd leave me sleeping until noon ... but I digress.


I woke up this morning with the most vivid recollection of this dream.


Knothead and I were actually in the same place together. I left to go to a coffee shop, and was sitting there with a work colleague, when she walked in with this guy and took the table next to us. She got up to go to the restroom at one point, and took a long trench coat with her, holding it in front of her stomach. The next part of the dream involves me trying to get a look at her stomach.

Flip to she and I being together at my home, where she is in the kitchen, and I'm out front with this guy of hers, loading up a vehicle of some sort. He and I drive somewhere together, and he tells me that yes indeed, Knothead is pregnant. He goes on to say he doesn't know if it's his child, but he doesn't seem too concerned about it.


Flash back to me being magically in the house, where she remains in the kitchen ... cleaning up by placing my dining room table over my kitchen table and having lifted it by herself. I'm joined by a few colleagues from work .... interesting choice of colleagues because they are ones that are particularly supportive of me but wouldn't be folks in my home ... and I'm all concerned because Knothead has been lifting tables, and she's pregnant, although she won't acknowledge it to me. This time I can clearly see the pregnant belly, complete with popped out belly button.


I awoke with this feeling of great concern for her pregnancy and her.


What's with that? I've been trying to figure out the triggers for the dream. A few that come to mind:


At Mass yesterday, the homily was all about letting go of anger and forgiving those who have hurt you ... how when we engage in sinful acts we want mercy for ourselves, but when someone else engages in one, we want justice. I've been holding a lot of anger toward Knothead....

I've been creating another blog that contains the journal hubby and I kept for our baby boy, Brodie. http://journalforbrodie.blogspot.com/ It's been a very healing experience, but has also brought back the experience of being pregnant vividly through the words we both wrote in it.

I've been grappling with whether to go this baby shower today, or to just send my gift.

And then of course, I'm in that really rotten part of my cycle .... day 30 ... that day where you're wondering "ok, did I ovulate this month? Is this just a long cycle? What's going on with my system?" ... and at my age you have to kick in the queries about being peri-menopausal.


Gawd....why can't I just dream about hunky men, or dancing pickles, or skydiving or something?

A Journal for Brodie

I've decided to create a blog that will contain the journal that my husband and I wrote to our unborn son, Brodie.

I'm hoping that going through it and typing out what we lovingly wrote to him over the months that we were waiting for him will be healing.

I can't quite figure out this blogging thing ... how to link it to this blog and vice versa, and how to have the posts appear in the order that I want them to in the journal blog. I hope it won't be an exercise in technological frustration!

Baby Shower Muzac

I have a group of women friends. We are all over the life continnum....one is married with kids; two single with kids; three single no kids; and two of us are married with no kids. The other married no kids couple are by choice ... in fact, she's had a hysterectomy. I am part of the other married no kids pair.

Because of our different spots on the continuum, we really pay attention to ensuring "the girls" have time together. One of the ways we do that is by using our regular brunch gatherings to plan our annual trip together. This tradition started about 15 years ago when we descended on a small fishing town in another part of our home province, took over four motel rooms and spent disgusting amounts of time and money in the two local bars...entertaining the locals. Eventually we matured our way out of those habits, and began taking more elaborate trips ... resorts in Cuba, other provinces in Canada, and this year, a late summer excursion to NY City for theatre, dining and shopping experiences.

So in June, we sat together at brunch planning the NYC trip....each of us doing the out loud wondering of whether she would be able to commit to the trip being planned for end August. One of the single no kids (and no apparent significant other) announces that she must decline participation, as she will likely be either in hospital giving birth or at home nursing said offspring.

Way to silence a table.

There she sat...almost 7 months pregnant....letting us in on this little development for the first time. None of us had really noticed any difference in her body shape. She has always favoured baggier clothing.

She continues to break the deafening silence by sharing that she hasn't yet let the father in on the news; she wasn't sure if she wanted "it"; she's kind of accepted "it" now and is sort of getting excited about "it"; yada yada yada.

I sat there ... perma smile on my face. Trying to be congratulatory toward this woman who has succeeded in a completely unintentional way to accomplish what I want so desperately, and is sharing that she's not sure if she wanted "it" and is "kind of" excited about "it".

Spring forward to today. She has since given birth to "it", who turned out to be a gorgeous baby boy. I haven't yet met him, nor have I seen her since his birth, which is not unusual for our group of friends.

But that will change should I choose to accept my next mission.

Attend her baby shower tomorrow.

I have been to exactly one baby shower since we lost our baby boy in 2002. And that was one of those at work ones, where I was able to sneak in as part of a large crowd, stand by the door for a minute or two...be seen and then sneak out quietly. Worked great for me.

But this one tomorrow is at someone's house, and will be complete with food, games, gifts and of course the baby.

I had accepted the evite, and even agreed to bring veggies and dip.

Today I'm waffling. With all the emotional roller coaster riding I've been doing this last week, I don't know if I want to purposely put myself into a situation where I might react negatively. Not to mention the need to hit a baby store today and pick out a gift.

I know that every woman who has lived through the loss of a baby (or babies) can relate perfectly to the mix of emotions I'm grappling with today. The desire to be there with my friend, share the happiness and miracle of new life, not punish this little boy because of my emotional instability in this area.... fighting against the need to be kind to myself, listen to my heart .... wrestling against the societal muzac of "get over it...move on".

I'll let you know what wins out.