More random thoughts

Things I'm thinking about today.

• it's six years ago today that my brother died. I was sitting in a hotel room in Chicago when I got the call from my parents. I had tickets to the Oprah Winfrey show. Although I miss him like hell, I've always retained a secret resentment and anger at him that he made me miss the only chance I'll have to see Oprah. I know. I'm going to hell for saying that out loud, today of all days.
  
• my husband is a hottie. 'nuff said.
  
• I have to get serious about getting back on a weight loss kick. I ate a can of Duncan Hines chocolate icing, one spoonful at a time, over this last week. Hello, my name is Sandy and I need to admit that I am powerless over chocolate.
  
• I am proud of myself for finally confronting a passive aggressive "friend" yesterday and telling him that I couldn't handle him behaving like Eeyore one minute longer. It will either have ended our friendship, or he will take a look at his behaviour. Either way, I feel better about dealing with him to his face instead of walking away from our exchanges feeling frustrated and used.
  
• I'd love it if the people that are coming here from Michele's site to play the scavenger hunt game would say hello and leave their blog link so I can visit. I do venture outside of the world of infertility blogs once in a while.
  

Exciting day of thoughts for me eh? (Oh gawd, I swore I'd never use the "eh" thing because it's so stereotypically Canadian, although not the part of Canada I live in ... but oh well, it's the only appropriate way to end a questioning sentence. Right? Oh no wait, there IS another way!)

Balls and Walls

I'm watching ER and it's the most poignant story about the profound love that a parent has for a child. To the point of literally giving up his life so that the child can live. It made me think.

And then I read this on Cecily's blog. Reading this post made me think about breakthroughs and walls.

In two days, we will honour the memory of my brother on the sixth anniversary of his suicide. And that's making me think.

I'm waiting for my period to start so I can start the next round of clomid. It would appear that my period is taking it's own damn time starting. So of course, I have time to think.

Yep, I've been doing a lot of thinking today. Thinking about my life, my future, my past.

It feels like there is really something big getting ready to unlock itself for me. And I'm kind of excited because truthfully, things are pretty good for me. I've done my share of working through my shit over the years. Licked the bottom of my personal barrel a few years ago, and worked my way back up. Part of how I know that I'm back up at the top of the barrel is how I'm dealing with things emotionally today.

Last night was one of the first times in a long time....well, almost six years in fact...that I was able to talk about the day I received the phone call about my brother, and not cry while talking about it.

Then today I had lunch with a former coworker, and almost casually told her about our latest miscarriage. And never even felt a catch in my breath.

Which brings me back to the reflection on walls and healing. When my brother died, I was the strong one. For a full year, I did not cry. I listened, hugged, coached and helped. But I did not cry. We joke about how I actually got kicked out of grief therapy when the therapist told me to come back when I was ready to talk about me and not everyone else in the family. I haven't been back yet.

I had those walls up so high and thick that nothing could penetrate through them. And man, was I terrified. When I finally did get into therapy with a woman that I really respected, I remember comparing my emotions to a ball of elastics. I pictured it as a great, big ball of elastics that someone had been collecting for years and decided to store it inside me. And if I twanged just one of those elastic emotions, the whole frigging ball was going to explode, unravelling, completely out of control, and I'd need years to get it back into an organized ball shape again.

So when I finally did twang the elastic band ball, it did explode. And I was a mess. And I couldn't get all the bands back into the neat, tight, controlled ball.

Thank God.

Because that ball was so constricting. There was no room for the elastic band to curl, or flip, or be a different shape. It was just a heavy ball.

Today I know that I am allowed to be. I can feel all kinds of things. Joy, anger, sadness, frustration, happiness, delight, surprise, amazement. I have learned to acknowledge these feelings as they come up for me. And I've broken down the walls around my heart. What a difference.

That difference is what allowed me to speak of my brother's death last night with some peace. And to share the reality of our last pregnancy disappointment without anger or frustration today. Tomorrow might be a whole different story, but today I truly felt peace. For once I wasn't playing at it...being the strong one or the martyr. I truly felt peace.

And for that I'm very grateful.

I'm not sure that any of this makes any sense at all, but it felt good to write it down and get it out.

Quick hit

I'm up before the freaking birds this morning because I have a very early meeting at work today. Just eating my breakfast and checking emails, and thought I'd share this with you all.

Pizza_Order

Now if I was one of those crafty blogging gals, I'd have doctored it up to reflect a call to the clinic ... but alas, crafty I'm not!

The Blizzard of Infertility

We're into day two of the blizzard. This morning I awoke at the usual time, expecting to be making my way into work. I was going to have HB, who is a teacher and was already informed last night that schools would be closed today, drive me to a bus stop and make my way in to the office using that less stressful method.

Not to be. Buses are not running. Plows have not yet graced us with an appearance. And miracle of miracles, there was a public notice that my office is closed until at least noon, at which time they will reassess the situation.

So, here we sit. Day Two. I haven't washed my hair since Saturday morning. The beds aren't made. The laundry is done, but still in the basement. HB is shovelling us out, and I'm too lazy to go help. I'm using the "we only have one shovel" excuse. And I'm surfing blogs. I'm over the "let's not think about infertility" moment of yesterday. I'm back, obsessively seeking new posts on my usual blog list, and adding new blogs to my check-out list. And I'm thinking.

When you read enough blogs in the infertility community, you notice the cycles. So similiar to the cycles of death or grief. We are all at different points in the continuum, and most days we go through different stages of the cycles. We're there to pull each other up; empathize; offer a shoulder or simply nod knowingly in almost full understanding.

We may not have experienced exactly the same situation. But we can relate to the emotions described, or the feeling of frustration. To the bargains we strike. The anger at God, at the world, at ourselves, our doctors, or at those who are filled with urban myths of how to conceive. The mixed up feeling of joy and jealousy when someone we know becomes pregnant, or even when we see a pregnant woman we don't know. The questioning we put ourselves through. Do we really want this? Is it worth it? Can I do this again? The feeling of confusion when we can't come to a clear answer. The disappointment at loss. The dipping down so low.

And then, the climb back up the mountain as we enter another month. A new cycle. Hope. Pep talks to ourselves and others. New information. Different medication. Another bargain with your husband/partner, God, the universe ...

And we begin again. Knowing that our sisters and brothers on the Journey of Infertility are there - silently fighting with us. Rooting us on. Cementing our bargains. And wishing us well.

We will all survive these blizzards. I feel it.

Life Outside of Infertility

Two posts in one day. Not because I have anything monumental to say today but more because we are having yet another blizzard, and the first post hardly counts. I was soliciting blogging advice. And major thanks to my friend Grins, who emailed me with incredible step by step directions. Now I know that she is my idol for sure!

For a change of pace, I am not going to write about anything related to conception, pregnancy, miscarriage or my husband. Except that I do have to say that if and when I ever do manage to carry a pregnancy to term, I want to deliver the way that little chick on 7th_Heaven did tonight. I mean, what are the odds that you will go into labour, in baby department store's elevator where all your family members just happen to be shopping, with the only other passenger in the elevator being your brother the doctor? I have luck like that too...don't you?

But see, I digress yet again. What I wanted to share tonight were some of the very cool, non-infertility (gasp!!!!) blogs I have been checking out of late. Who knew that people blogged about things non-infertility related?

This is just a very fun blog. Lots of stuff to keep you entertained and going. Check it out!

Then there is this extremely witty woman.

And finally, this woman's babbling amuses me.

So, if you need an escape from in/fertility reading for a moment, follow the links!

Open for Assvice

I've been playing with the template here again today. Someone emailed saying that the old template had a brown colour that was overtaking the view capability in some browsers, so I thought I'd go with a plain white one. Because I'm not very 'puter savvy, I'm limited to the templates that are offered by the host site here for which I'm eternally grateful!
(sidebar stage whisper: suck up comment added just in case the blogspot Gods are watching and think I'm ungrateful for free blog hosting space).

But here's my dilemma. I can't figure out how to get my links back into this particular template! I've pasted code after code, used the help file sent to me by blogspot, but all to no avail. I even solicited help from the hoochiest webchick I know ... my friend Grins , but all has failed!

Somehow I managed to figure out how to paste the script needed for my counter, although those goofy little < > signs are there.

I'm stumped. Snowed in yet again and stumped! If anyone has any ability to coach me through this, feel free to coach!

The men in our lives

First let me say that I'm taking suggestions on a good name to use when referring to my husband here in blogland. I call him Hockey Butt here at home, so perhaps HB will do, but I'm open to suggestions!

Anyhow, once again I'm reminded how important it is to look outside of myself when dealing with miscarriage. When we lost Brodie, everyone that acknowledged our situation was more comfortable asking about me. I guess because the woman was the physical carrier of the baby (or babies) and is the one people know is in pain. My husband was not in physical pain, but he was definitely in pain. And society forced him to be strong.

So this week we had another "loss". Oh yeah - let's work on another word for that too ok? As Cecily says, we don't put our babies down somewhere and lose them! But I digress (again).

I was able to cry...crawl under the blanket...take a day off work. My husband was great. He fed me; cuddled; pampered; did all the right things. He even went to the store with a note that said "buy honking big, long pads with wings". He's just cute enough to get away with the looking helpless in the "feminine hygiene products" aisle to attract good help with product selection. It works like a charm every time and I never feel guilty about sending him. (Note to self...focus! Damn!)

Last night my husband had a melt down.

At first I was completely taken aback. He went on, at length, about how busy he was. Overwhelmed. All these things requiring his attention. He hadn't had time for a work out all week. He went off. And on. And on.

At first I tried to offer a few suggestions, and then I realized what was going on.

He was grieving.

So I listened. For a long time.

And today? I had my well adjusted, handsome, even keeled, tampon buying, husband back. Who just hugged me and said "thanks". I smiled, and we moved on with our days.

Men need to vent too. Who knew? Well, I knew. I just needed a reminder.

The dictionary says

mis·car·riage (n.)
The premature expulsion of a nonviable fetus from the uterus. Also called spontaneous abortion.

I've been thinking about this word a lot over the last two days, and wondering how you can explain exactly how a miscarriage feels.

Ripping.
Painful.
Empty.
Draining.
Cruel.
Heartbreaking.
Helpless.
Hopeless.

I've learned a lot since we lost Brodie in 2002, and have both lurked and actively participated on a number of loss message boards. I've always had a sense that there are degrees of loss, never publicly acknowledged, but tacitly condoned among posters on these boards. A protocol, so to speak. No one ever comes right out and says it, but there always seemed to be a stronger response to those women who had losses later in their pregnancy. Almost as if those pregnancies were more real or something.

And I must admit that, because my loss with Brodie was at 20 weeks, I could relate to that. My loss was very real to me. He was a baby. My baby. I had seen him wave to me on the ultrasound. Had heard his heartbeat at least four times. I had his picture. And I had felt him move inside of me. So yes, he was real to me. As real as if I had held him in my arms.

But today I sat beside a 7 month pregnant colleague, and I was still bleeding from this miscarriage. I suddenly truly understood that a loss at any time during a pregnancy carries with it the same feelings. I felt incredible remorse for any time I may have minimized someone else's loss in my head, even unconsciously. And I asked for forgiveness. I was able to truly be present to today and to my colleague, because I think I am finally, truly understanding what an incredible miracle a full term healthy pregnancy is, and I am grateful that she is experiencing one.

And I am reminded that the other type of miscarriage is one of justice. Someday we will experience justice - it just might not look like what we want it to look like.

Weathering the Storm

The blizzard arrived, and continues to pummel us here this morning...alternating between freezing rain pellets and blowing snow. School is cancelled, so my honey is home today with me.

There will be no need to go for the second beta test. That is very clear to me after the night we put in last night. This morning underlined that fact for me.

We had our cry last night. Hubby questioned whether trying so actively to conceive is worth it, which blew my mind. He said he can't handle seeing me upset and disappointed each month. I shared my Queen of Denial story with him and I promised myself in front of him that I would not purchase nor use any home pregnancy tests until I was well past my expected start date of any future periods. For me, the minute I saw a positive result, this pregnancy becomes a baby, which means that a period starting is not just a period starting.

So we'll hunker down together under our blanket on the couch today, and weather both these storms together.

Blizzard And Pity Party Warning

The Sunday Update, which, by the way, in my very humble opinion, sucks the big one.

We're anticipating a blizzard here with a significant amount of snow and freezing ice pellets (are there other kinds of ice pellets that aren't freezing? I've always wanted to ask that question of a meteoroligist). Why is that important and why, when I usually relish the potential of being snowed in with my honey, is it causing me grief today? Well, it means that I likely will not be able to go for my second beta tomorrow. We never get plowed out until the rest of the city has been done.

Anyhow, I'm beginning to think it won't be necessary. I'm cramping and spotting today. Still darkish and fluidy in nature, but spotting none the less. If the spotting last weekend was implantation spotting, then spotting again this weekend can't be good. Many of the other symptoms have decreased as well. I'll still go for the second beta, just to confirm what I think is happening.

I wish to hell that I had never taken that test on Monday. I know that sounds insane, but if I hadn't taken it, then I would just be sitting here tonight thinking that the clomid cycle failed, and I was simply starting my period. Instead, I know that the cycle didn't fail. I asked the doctor about whether I should start the clomid, per the prescription, if I did start my period. She pulls no punches. She said that if I started to bleed it would not be a period...it would be a miscarriage and so wouldn't be a cycle. I am the Queen of Denial, and would have so much preferred to consider this just another period, but between seeing those frigging positives and hearing her use the word miscarriage, even I can't convince myself it's just another failed cycle.

I bawled all the way through Mass this morning, but then had a bizarrely good time at brunch with my girlfriends, and spent a significant amount of that brunch holding the newborn son of one of my friends. I've managed to avoid seeing her and meeting him until today - and that only happened because I hadn't been forewarned that he would be there with her. In retrospect, I'm kind of glad as I'm sure I would have found a reason not to go, and I need to get out and be among friends today.

So, that's the sucky Sunday update from Sandy. Not just a blizzard warning, but a pity party warning as well. I'm going to crawl into my snowbank and sob now.

The Glow

I was at a meeting this morning, and a woman who knows me really really well told me I had a glow about me. Which prompted me to begin crying and tell her about our tentative positive test result. Isn't it weird that she would use those words?

Just hanging in until the second beta test on Monday. I'll try to call to get the results Monday afternoon but the clinic may not have them back yet, as I have to go to a different hospital Monday morning for the second test. My schedule won't allow me to get over to the same hospital that houses the clinic. Waiting one more day isn't going to make much of a difference.

The kids are over tonight, and we're just getting ready to watch Shrek II. I must have done something incredibly right today because I'm actually being allowed downstairs into Man Land without too much of a fight. Either I've done something right or I've accidently grown a penis that is outwardly visible ... either way, I'm glad to be accepted tonight. I'll have to practice up on my scratching.

The other woman

I took a mental health day today, and didn't go into the office. I hardly ever do that, but man, it felt good today. Hubby was leaving for PEI for an overnight with the band.

He took me to meet his other woman today. I finally got to meet the one he's been visiting, stroking and singing softly to for the last three weeks. Yes, I met the new Gibson guitar he's been coveting. This was his Christmas present from me - a down payment toward a new guitar of his choice. So today we went to pick it up from the store.

Then we went to our favourite little pasta place and had a leisurely lunch. And we talked. And laughed. And relaxed. And had fun. He always says we could have fun in a ditch together, and days like this remind me of that truth.

Have I mentioned lately how very much I love this man? I know that he wants a baby more than anything, and that if this turns out to not be a viable pregnancy, he will be devastated. And yet, he takes every chance he can to reassure me that he's there for me ... that "what will be will be" ... and he puts my fears and feelings of failure to rest.

I know a lot of men who would let their female partner walk this road alone, or perhaps not share the walk. The longer I continue on this hateful journey of infertility, the more I am coming to admire those men who journey right alongside their female partners. Those who are not afraid to dream, to hate that bitch hope along with us, to be strong for and with us, and to cry with us when our dreams are not realized.

So next time I post that I'm selling him cheap at a yard sale, or going to put him up on Ebay, remind me of this post, this day, and who has been right at my side through all the crud, will ya? Thanks.

Update on the mind game

I love my doctor. She's clear, to the point and pulls no punches. She asked me why I tested so early. I explained the spotting on Saturday, the getting sick on Sunday. She asked me if I had symptom A & B, to which I answered yes. Then she explained that I had indeed tested very early, and that a positive is a positive, but it might not be a viable positive. Which reminded me why I never used to test until I was at least three days late. Of course that was before I became re-obsessed with this conception game.

She sent me for betas today, and I'll have to get them again on Monday. If they are good, then I'll go for an early ultrasound. If they're not good, then we have to sit out next cycle because, in her words, we'll have to let the miscarriage happen.

And just because I can't let well enough alone, I stopped on the way home and picked up yet another test. This time an early detection test. I just took it - it's 5:00 p.m., and it's negative.

So, although I will continue to take every good wish and prayer anyone might be sending my way, I think I got too excited too early.

And I'm thinking I might just get in on Julianna's line writing.

let the mind games begin...

I really am terrified. And I'm playing incredible mind games with myself, which terrifies me even more because lately I'm not even sure I have a mind most days!

I tested way too early. Let's face it - I'm not even late yet. But I've had two positive tests. I used the digital kind - which are relatively new to my neck of the world. Both times, the outside cartridge with the very definitive plus or minus sign window, showed a plus sign. And both times when I removed the actual test stick from the cartridge, there were two blue lines ... albeit that one was lighter than the other in both cases.

This morning, for some unexplicable masochistic reason, I decided to take the third test. Waste not want not attitude I guess ... didn't want that third little test to be lonely by itself in the cupboard!

Anyhow, the outside window showed a negative sign. The test stick still showed two blue lines ... albeit one lighter again.

I'm on a total mind bend right now. Am I? Aren't I? Is this a chemical pregnancy? Should I not have told my husband or those four friends? Will my cycle just end itself on schedule sometime next week and this will all have been a bad joke?

I hate this. I'm terrified to be happy. Thankfully I have a doctor's appointment in 90 minutes, and should be on the road to getting some answers.

Day Two

Day Two, and a second positive pregnancy test.

Yesterday as I drove to work, freaked out at what had just happened, I thought of a woman that I used to work with - Leah. IFour years ago, she announced her second pregnancy, only to have that end in miscarriage. When she announced her third pregnancy, I was also pregnant, and we were sharing a due date. We emailed frequently about our pregnancies and joked about sharing a room at the hospital. She shared her fears and uncertainties with me, and talked about how she didn't feel as if she could get excited about this pregnancy ... just in case.

We lost our Brodie at 21 weeks, and she was there to comfort me. She went on to deliver her beautiful daughter on February 19 that year - thankfully. I never see her any more, and had not met her miracle daughter.

I was thinking about her yesterday, and her fears that she so willingly shared with me. And then the elevator doors opened in my office building, and in she and her daughter walked. I couldn't believe it - although I am a firm believer that I am always brought the very people I need to see when I need to see them. And I needed to see her yesterday.

My husband and I have agreed to take this amazing event for what it is - a gift - and to enjoy it one day at a time. I can't look much beyond that.

So...day two, and although I'm still terrified, I'm trying to relax and be happy.

I have a doctor's appointment on Thursday.

Could have posted more questions

So on Sunday I posted a question, wondering if I should be concerned about a little breakthrough bleeding.

If I had been near a computer later in the morning, I would have posted another question, asking if I should be concerned about getting sick and needing to boot my 75 year old mother out of the bathroom.

And if I could have logged into blogger earlier today I could have asked if I should trust a digital home pregnancy test that gave me a positive outcome this morning - 7 days post ovulation and on day 21 of a cycle.

I wrapped the test in toilet paper and gave it to my husband this morning for his 40th birthday.

He cried.

I'm terrified.

Question

I have a question for all those out there experienced in Clomid land.

Yesterday was day 19 of my first cycle on Clomid. I had some little cramps yesterday midday - nothing too serious but enough that I thought hmmm. Went to the washroom a while later and saw a light amount of dark brown on the paper. No more cramps, but I did have a small flow, darkish in colour, for the evening. This morning there was just a very small amount of darkish colour.

I do not have breakthrough bleeding as a matter of course, and generally have long cycles.

Is this something I should be concerned about?

Good News in Blog Land

So Close

Tertia and Marco have done it. You can't help but shed a few tears of joy at a happy ending/beginning such as this one. All feels right in the world for this moment in time. Welcome to our world, Adam and Kate.

Random Thoughts

Lots of random thoughts wandering through my brain tonight. It's late here (almost midnight) and we're in the midst of yet another snow/freezing rain system. I love getting snow, but only when it's convenient for me. It's not convenient right now. I have family flying in tomorrow for my parents' 50th anniversary celebration and excuse me but I have things to do!!! I need clear roads and cooperative weather systems. Get your act together weather!

I found a friend's blog quite by accident the other day and was just so totally stoked to reconnect with this woman! Check out her blog at http://grinsnlaughter.blogspot.com/ . You will not regret it! Although she has managed to spring forth one absolutely delightful child, I forgive her for being a fertile, and love her because she has a totally demented sense of humour and is known for being the queen of the witty retort! She is currently assembling an ecclectic dinner guest list. Enjoy your visit with Grins and drop her a note to say hi.

The tarty tree has relocated to the back deck. Yes, I was sad to see her go but before she left, she gave me a parting gift. A sliver that remains in my left index finger even now ... some 24 hours later. Bitch. I replaced her with a potted plant that I gave extra water to and the best sun position. But I am sad that there is no festive light to my living room now.

And finally ... I probably tempted fate. I actually purchased a home pregnancy test yesterday. Well, I purchased one of those digital 3 packs. I have tucked it under my cupboard and am trying not to think about it, but somehow the creature has learned my name. I've heard it singing out quietly since I tossed it in the under-the-sink-basket, but I will resist. I'm at least ... at least ... 10 days away from even being in a position to consider testing.

I'll be away for a few days doing this celebratory family thing. Have fun and play nice with each other.

On another note...

If you're the praying type, please pray for Kit and her baby. If you're not the praying type, please think a comforting thought for her.


Kitsilano Blue: the NT Scan

The Tarty Tree

I'm supposed to take down the Christmas tree today. I always go through a weird transition when taking the tree down. My husband thinks I'm insane. Ok, he knows I'm insane and yet he still married me, but that's his to deal with for eternity now isn't it?

The transition that I go through is that I always feel as if we've simply used the tree, and now that it's usefulness is over, we're kicking it to the curb. As I said to him this morning, what I really feel like is that we've gone out, solicited this beauty into our home, parked her in the corner after dressing her up like a tart in all her finery, had our way with her and now that she's no longer useful, we're stripping her finery off her and throwing her onto the street.

Literally.

Where she will lay naked for days until someone comes along and throws her into a grinder, chopping her into little bits and redistributing her so that she is useful once again.

I can't do it!

So now you will understand why, when you visit in August, you are not to ask about the large tree that remains in the corner of the living room.

Christianity and Infertility - is a mix possible?

I'm really struggling this morning, and feel a bit of a rant inside me wanting to get out. I was up early today, sitting at the computer enjoying my decaf and my morning blog surf routine, when I came upon this in the comments section at Julianna's blog.

I have always viewed blogging as a personal thing. Much like keeping a diary, only choosing to do so in a public domain. Kind of like knowing your kid sister has the key to your diary so you're sort of careful about what you write, but in the end, you still write what you want or need to write anyhow. For me, and I don't know how true this is for other bloggers out there, I blog to maintain my sanity and to vent. I come here, dump the toxic waste, and then am able to move on in my marriage and daily life. Sometimes I come here, dump to formulate what I need to say out loud in my daily life.

And the bonus with blogging is that I have lucked into a circle of blogs belonging to other women (and sometimes their insightful partners) who are on the same terrifying, frustrating and exhausting journey as my husband and I are on - the bloody road of infertility and all the emotional bumps that are part of that road.

So, sometimes through sharing my personal vents/thoughts/worries/concerns/toxic waste, I'm fortunate enough to either be on the receiving end of some wisdom from someone who is ahead of me on the road ... or to find a blog that gives me a bit of a road map on what to expect. And occasionally, I am able to turn around and share my road map, or at minimum, let someone know that they can rest a while with me and I'll share my hot cocoa and warm fuzzies with them.

And I have done all of that with all sincerity. I am who you see on this blog.

Part of what I've never said out loud in this blog, or in too many comment sections of other blogs, is that at the centre of who I am is a person is my relationship with Christ.

Yes, I am a Christian.

I didn't feel the need to write that in my blog before because I wasn't writing for an audience. I was writing for me, and because I am a Christian, I understood that God already knew I was a Christian! I also understood that my actions speak for my Christianity. It's up to me not to judge. It's up to me to comment in language that I know I am comfortable with using ... to be who I really am, and not play a game with someone else's blog just because I can get away with hiding behind the anonymity of the internet. It's up to me to not comment if I don't have something nice or worthwhile to add to a conversation.

Having said all of that, I'm also of the belief that God doesn't call me to be a sad saint. I'm a great believer in the use of humour, and my humour is often sarcastic and occasionally a wee bit irreverant. People who know me "in real life" know that about me.

Sometimes I struggle with the slamming of Christians in the infertility blogging world. But I've also seen some comments, like the one linked above, that claim to be Christian in nature and just strike me as being anything but Christian. And usually I keep silent because I think I'm not doing much better if I get involved in mud slinging or advice giving, because that's being judgemental. But this morning I could not keep silent.

And now I'm having a hard time letting it go. Was I just as bad as the original "Christian" commentor for getting in on the discussion and giving my opinion to her? Am I trying to justify some guilt that I'm feeling? Why is this weighing on my mind so very much today?

I even spoke to my husband about the whole incident as I drove him to work this morning. We talked about the fit of Christianity and Christian view points with the whole infertility journey. He's a much more solid faith walker than I am, and always is able to put Christ at the centre of everything. I struggle with when it's my will, and when I'm just making it feel like my will is actually His will. Not to say that my husband is not human at his core, because believe me, he is ... but that's his story to tell...not mine. Just to say that he has a greater ability to listen to his heart, whereas I listen, then think "nah...that wasn't God speaking to me...that was me speaking for God" and proceed to second guess, over analyze and play with it until finally I give up.

I'm working on handing it over and really listening. In recovery, we call that believing in a Power greater than ourselves. And one of the first successful experiences I think I've had with really handing it over and listening to God's will for me was with the decision to pursue fertility treatment.

Maybe that's why I can't seem to let go of Working Princess' comments on Julianna's blog. Because I hear my human voice in her advice to not dwell on it and then I'll get pregnant.

I am choosing to believe that there is a mix possible between Christians and Infertiles. In fact, I think (gasp!) that some Christians can be infertile and that it's not "God's will" that we be barren! (I'm ducking in case there are fundamentalist arrows headed my way right now!!!) I think that perhaps my inability to conceive has to do with the years of working, partying, not eating correctly, taking birth control pills, fighting dysplasia for five years running, history of infertility in my family ... I could go on for a bit about what other human made things could be in the way of my ability to conceive. Perhaps it's even something on my husband's part. We won't know right away as they_wouldn't_take_his_sperm_for_testing !

When I list those things, I can't say that it's God's will that I'm not pregnant. I made different choices. I'm making another choice now - to take advantage of the intelligence, skills and wisdom that has been given to doctors and surgeons in this world to help my very loving, devoted husband and I create a child together.

Ok. Rant over.

5-Oh

Today is my parents' 50th wedding anniversary. The kids were here with us this morning, so we called Mom & Dad (or Papa Moses and Nana J as the kids call them) and sang Happy Anniversary ... very loudly and off key ... to them. They loved it! My sister and I are organizing a dance for them this Saturday evening. It looks as if there will be about 100 people there. Hubby's band will provide the music. He and I will do a song together for Mom and Dad to dance to ... I'm looking forward to the whole evening.

The big surprise for them will be the arrival of my Mom's sister and her son on Friday evening. They live in Ontario and are flying in for the party. Mom came from a family of 13 and they are the only two remaining alive. Amazing. I'm so grateful and touched that she will come all this way for a weekend. That's family in action.

I'm pretty sure that I ovulated ... either that or I've got really bad gas pains on my left side. Is this what the next months will be like? Reading into every little twinge, twang and gas pain? Previous clomid users? What was your experience? I don't chart, so any help with describing how to recognize ovulation would be appreciated. I do ovulate, but have never really paid close attention to the signs.

Now how I connected my parents' wedding anniversary to ovulation is beyond me. Isn't it marvelous how when you're focused on trying to conceive, it all comes back to sex, ovulation or your period? What the hell did I talk and write about before this became my obsession?

Anyhow...happy anniversary Mom and Dad. Happy Ovulation Day to me.

Marg Simpson? Not any more!

Plans falling through last night ended up being the best gift of the season. Hubby and I had an awesome night together, and once again, I am reminded that I'm rich in what's important in life. Didn't hurt to have a feed of lobster at 10 p.m. either though.

Today I fessed up to hubby that I saw the one-I-married-for-a-minute-by-mistake on Christmas Eve. I purposely hadn't told him because I didn't want any of that ugliness from my past interfering with our family holiday season. Well that, and I wanted to sit and reflect on it for a bit. I mean, come on, would you readily admit to the man you love more than anything that you once married a guy who now looks alarmingly like Homer Simpson and who has taken on the job of placing ads under windshield wipers in the mall parking lot at Christmas time for extra money?

But I did tell him today, and we had a good chat about how far we had come as people since we got ourselves out of those relationships that weren't right for each other.

It's going to be a good year. I can feel it.