Procrastination

I really am supposed to be working today ~ even if it is from home. I have a fairly significant piece of writing to complete but I just can't seem to get my act together and get at it! I have engaged in more procrastinating behaviours than I thought possible ~ some productive (laundry, dishes, sorting out a downstairs closet); others not so productive (dancing along with the Ellen show, eating fudgie-pops at only 2 points per, surfing the WW website while eating these same fudgie-pops, updating this blog right now when I have really nothing exciting or productive to say.....)

One of the procrastinating behaviours I engaged in this morning was a review of my blog. I offer the following fascinating stats for your edification (edited to add Sandy saying, "Wow! Now that's a grade 10 word! Remember, I don't have a degree so if you think that I have used it incorrectly, be kind to me anyhow and chalk it up to my educational disability)

• My first blog entry was exactly nine months ago yesterday. Yes, I said nine months. Ironic, no?
• In those nine months, I have created 132 blog entries - on average one entry entry every four days.
• My first visitor was a man named David who offered me encouragement in losing weight in order to achieve pregnancy. David lives in Malaysia.
• On September 5/04 Julianna was the second person to comment on my blog! I've been following her journey ever since, and send daily thoughts up for a woman who lives on the opposite coast in a different country, but whom I feel forever connected to as a result of our shared travels through the land of infertility.
• I started clomid on December 23/04 after much soul searching on the parts of both myself and my amazing husband.
• On January 10/05, my husband turned 40 and I presented him with a positive pregnancy test. If only someone had told me years ago that all I had to do to get pregnant was take a pill! I posted my news and received a comment from Amateur_Dad ~ the husband side of another family who has lived through infertility and loss but have just recently welcomed their little one to the world.
• Eight days later I was blogging about another loss
• On February 21/05, I turned 42 and also began the second round of a ten month prescription of clomid.
• On April 28/05, I finally broke down and bought the staple of every other infertile's tool kit for the first time - a basal thermometre - and began charting. Now I can't imagine why I didn't do this ages ago. Added side benefit? I automatically wake up at 6:30 every morning now with no alarm clock!
• In May 2005, I came to the realization that my work is not the most important thing in my life, and began to reconsider current priorities.

And there it is ~ nine months. No baby at the end of it, but I do feel as if I've grown up a bit over those nine months. Anyone have anything else that I can do to keep me away from writing this paper for a bit longer?

Exit Stage Left

I think that one of the most challenging things about step-parenting for me is defining my role in the blended family. Admittedly, this week has been a stressful one all the way around, between starting a new cycle, the bs at work, and HB's hectic schedule. Just to add to the pleasure, we decided to throw some dysfunctional family behaviour at ourselves too.

Blended family is an interesting term. It really applies more to those people who are bringing two sets of kids together. Well, in my case, I bring myself. No kids. Dawgs, but no kids. So I'm being asked to blend into a family, and HB often finds himself caught in the middle.

For the past few weeks, all of the adults in this 'family' situation have been busy. And of course when adults are busy, kids get shuffled. So Frodo and Mini-Me have been shuffling back and forth between their two homes. There is more of a relaxed atmosphere here in our home and they have a lot of friends that live right in the neighbourhood, so they like to be here frequently. But because they are only here with us 1 or 2 nights a week, plus supposedly every second weekend, we struggle with maintaining our routine while they're here. Often we stop everything to revolve around them, and I guess with everything else that was going on with me this week, this iced the cake for me.

This was not supposed to be our weekend with the kids, so HB and I had made plans to attend a weekend workshop together on Friday and Saturday. This is one of the few groups that we belong to together, and we find that it's very life giving to us individually and as a couple.

The reason for the fight? Once again, HB and Knothead had decided to alter plans that HB and I had made, and of course I wasn't provided with the opportunity to have input, after all, it was in the "best interest of the children" to come here and spend time with their dad this weekend.

Bullshit. It was in the best interest of Knothead, whose boyfriend was returning this weekend and who wanted some alone time. And HB played right into her use of the "best interest" clause.

The workshop that we had planned to attend was part of the Cursillo Community we both belong to and so, ironically enough, we ended up fighting over attending a Christian activity together. Nice.

HB and I ended up going almost 24 full hours without speaking a civil word to each other. I dug my heels in, determined that I was not going to speak to him until he crawled back to me, clutching his heart in his hand whilst kissing my feet and declaring his complete and utter remorse for his incredible stupidity and just plain maleness of ways.

He is such an amazing father. He truly does put the best interest of Frodo and Mini-Me first. I've learned so much about unconditional love by watching him with his two boys. But what of me? Was I being childish to expect that somewhere in there my interest has weight too? And I'm just insecure enough to worry about the pressure that this puts on HB ~ this being caught in the middle between the children, me and Knothead.

So I stewed and huffed and puffed, and trotted out every dysfunctional behaviour I haven't seen nor used in years. My performance began on Thursday night and engaged in encore presentations all day Friday. It was a performace worthy of an Oscar. Even HB had to admit that he hasn't watched drama like that in years.

We worked it all out in the end ... as we always do ... but man, I learned some lessons through it all:

• it's hard to return comfortably to dysfunctional behaviours after they have been packed away and replaced by healthy behaviours, but with the right amount of focus and practice, you can do it
• waterproof eyeliner and mascara are simply advertising ploys
• eating potato chips and two chocolate bars in the middle of the afternoon out of spite and anger just makes me bloat and does nothing for the spite or anger
• my husband is really kind of lousy at reading those outward "tell the woman you're sorry for God's sake" signs such as frequent and heavy sighs ... storming from the room upon his entrance ... ignoring his phone calls on my cell .... slamming of various household doors ....
• if you work hard enough at communicating with each other honestly and openly, you can reach a compromise that works for all parties involved.

Which is what we ended up doing. We attended part of the workshop this weekend together by making arrangements for the kids for a few hours on Saturday.

The ultimate lesson? This blended family stuff is hard, but worth it in the end. As the four of us sat together in the movie theatre last night, laughing our butts off at the antics of the Madagascar crew, and I felt HB's hand sneak into mine, my heart welled over. I think I'll forego any future Oscar nominations and stick with the boring old heart to heart talks with my amazing husband.

Undecided no more

I've been spending time in contemplation. I've done some pondering and naval gazing in my time, but this one feels more important than some of those others.

This whole thing with work has me really thinking. I am so quick to spout off about living in the moment ... appreciate the today ... make the most out of every minute given to you ... I'm the queen of corn when it comes to those cliche feel good sayings.

But do I do it myself?

Sometimes. Not so much of late though.

I have been very consumed with getting ahead at work. I have been busily attaching importance to a job title, rate of pay and perceived level of prestige within the organization. Which is really a hoot because I'm also the first one to say that I'd rather have personal power over position power any day ~ and I like to think that I do have personal power.

I've been so consumed with getting ahead at work that when I'm not at the office, I'm here perched in front of the computer, doing work, or preparing my entrance package to the academic program I'm considering.

I have stepped out of the other parts of my life in order to pay attention to work.

I haven't been to see my parents in weeks. I have missed suppers with my husband and the kids because I was needed at work. I haven't read a trashy novel in so long.

Now HB and I have been trying to work through this latest to figure out what the lesson is together. He proposes that perhaps I'm meant to, once again, be a pioneer and stand up for "what's right" with regard to the recent decisions that were made. He's got a strongly possible point there.

I'm thinking that perhaps I'm meant to learn that my job is just that - a job. It should last somewhere around the 8 hours I'm paid for each day, and not consume too much more of my life outside of the normal preparations associated with that job. Besides, I'm tired of pioneering. I have been the poster child for so many causes throughout my life and frankly, I'm tired.

So this morning I verbalized to HB what I think might actually be a decision I'm comfortable with around this whole situation. I'm going to finish out my current assignment and then return to my home position. I'm going to do the work associated with that home assignment, but when the day ends at the normal time, I will be going home. I'm buying a lunch bag so I won't have the excuse of needing a briefcase to carry my lunch in ~ because I always managed to include work in that briefcase. Work will stay at work for a while. And I'm going to reclaim my life. I'll take the next while in my home position to continue naval gazing for a while and make some decisions about where to, if anywhere, from here.

This decision feels right. For once.

Moods swing much?

So today sucked some donkey balls.

I spent the first half of the day trying to convince myself that the spotting and cramps I was experiencing could possibly implantation spotting. By 2:00 p.m. even I had to admit that if that was burrowing, I must get ready to birth an alien.

Yet another failed cycle.

Now I normally don't get cranky or crabby, but holy cow I sure did today. We've been rebuilding the deck in front of our house, which means that the place vaguely resembles a junkyard at the moment. Tools, wood, nails all over the place. No steps up to the front of the house and everyone using the side door, which leads directly into the very small kitchen and has no mud area. Oh yeah ~ and it's rained 75 mm in the last 48 hours. Did I forget to mention that?

But it was all ok, because Frodo and Mini-Me were with their mother, so the mess was outside along with HB, while I remained inside, hanging around and just doing long weekend stuff.

Until I saw her car pull up at 1:00 p.m. and not one, not two, but three boys pile out of the car. No coats on. One in shorts with no socks. Did I mention that it's rained 75 mm in the last 48 hours and has been about ... oh I don't know .... zero frickin' celcius???? Not exactly short and no coat weather!

But stepping aside from that for a moment, I say casually to HB, who is outside building the deck, that I was a tad surprised to see the two step munsters here and oh by the way, who is this third child? Ahhh says HB. He and BM (delectable acronym for Birth Mother but I like the other implication as well....yes, I'm immature today) had a phone conversation and they thought it would be good for the kids to come visit this afternoon.

I normally don't get upset about not being included or consulted in the planning, but today I did. And in true passive aggressive fashion, said nothing. I allowed it to sit, fester and brew until I boiled over.

Because my afternoon was spent listening to the side door open and shut over and over and over and over; picking up water bottles all over the house; pulling children (we're up to six now because each one apparently grows an extra child in our basement) off shelving in the back basement; shooing dawgs outside; mopping the kitchen floor up three times from mud; explaining to Frodo why he can't wear his muddy rollerblades across the living carpet; kicking kids out of the fridge; asking kids not to play soccer inside the house and explaining why opening the cabinet where the pinwheel crystal is kept and using said doors as goal posts is never a good idea; putting up with "Daaaaad lets me have five oreo cookies! Daaaaaaad lets me do that!".

Because it's raining outside so guess where the kids are? Inside. And where is Dad? Outside. And I'm thinking BM is probably off getting a manicure.

I kept hanging on, knowing that BM was expecting them home at 5:00 p.m. for supper. As for our supper? I was looking forward to the steak I've had marinating since around noon, with a nice side salad.

Unbelievably, at 4:30 ... just as I'm seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, I hear HB on the phone. "Sure" says he, "I'll feed them supper".

I had one nerve left, and that phone call just did the final tap dance performance on it. I'm upstairs, door closed, watching "Clean Sweep", eating chocolate covered almonds and popping Extra Strength Pamprin.

And wondering why the hell I would ever want to add another child into this mix!

Better today

I think Friday's post was an absolute and true blog journal entry. I vented and it felt good! I had to get all that crap out so that I could deal. Just after I had blogged, my husband called ~ I had left a message on his cell and he could tell from my verrrrry controlled tone of voice that something was up. I heard his voice and just let go. God love him. He was standing in the middle of a deli, trying to get his lunch so that he could eat in the car on his way between assignments, but he left all of that to listen to me. I did end up calling and leaving a voice mail message for the person I met with, and she returned my call. I had a couple of very specific questions based on the fact that I was screened in for a position at that level several years ago, was interviewed and in fact was the second choice candidate. My references had been checked, and had the top candidate not accepted, I would have been offered the job. She wasn't in the organization at the time and hadn't been aware of that history ~ she left a message saying that she was absolutely going to check into it. I want to clarify that although I felt very screwed over on Friday, I do very much love where I work. They have in fact been good to me ~ mind you, I work hard for them ~ but I do know that I have the personal support of the very senior team there. I also believe that if there is a way for them to help me, it will happen. They have offered to assist with my degree, both in time and money. I just don't know if I have the energy to pursue it is all. Again ~ I just need to consider some options and try to figure out what the master plan is here for me in all of this.

We just finished watching The_5_People_You_Meet_In_Heaven and it was a half box tissue movie for me. A simple message but powerful, and for me, was very reinforcing. I truly do believe that things happen for a reason in my life. I know that I have a responsibility to take the appropriate human action, but I do believe that there is a master plan. I'm just really not patient at waiting to find out what the lesson is for me.

Today is our first wedding anniversary. We're not big gift exchangers and we're kind of broke right now anyhow, what with replacing our front deck and getting everyone registered for all the summer activities that this family is involved in, so there were no gifts exchanged. I am a crafty little bitch though, and so I did make HB a card and wrote him a love letter. Just reflected on the gift of our friendship and how grateful I am for my life today. The best gift was seeing the tears that the letter brought to his eyes. I am so in love with and loved by this man ~ and am so grateful for the gift of our marriage. I truly know that there is nothing we cannot deal with together. We just bring out the best in each other.

Oh yeah. Cycle day 30, 10 dpo. Negative test this morning. It's all ok.

The times they have a-changed

So yesterday I'm writing a tra-la-la I'm so happy post. And I am happy with my personal and home life and marriage.

Now my job? Completely different story today. I usually don't write about work as I'm never too sure who is out there reading, and I do know that I have at least one colleague who is on the infertility journey as well. I've heard her reference "research" on the web. Well, my best research on infertility has almost always largely consisted of blogs written by women who are living it, so I suspect she reads blogs as well. Maybe she even has one of her own ... who knows?

It's ironic that I've just prefaced what I'm here to write about today by saying that some of the best research I've come across is written by people who are living it. Because today at work the news that I will not be considered for any further advancement was given to me. The reason? I do not have a completed university degree.

I'm living out the Donald Trump book smart vs street smart experience. And now that I think of it, it was the cute little book smart chick that won the job interview last night, wasn't it? Mind you, she did do a better job than the street smart chick and showed much more diplomacy, so I think she was the best hire.

However, in my case (and yes of course I'm biased) I don't agree with the rationale that book smarts always trumps (ha!) street smarts.

To be told that I will not even be given the courtesy of an interview based on the lack of completed degree hurts. I think I'm especially hurt because I have been with this employer in one position or another for 15 years now. For the duration of my time there, I have been advancing progressively, despite my apparent educational disability. I have consistently and willingly taken on additional responsibilities without compensation in order to prove that I have the skills required to advance to another level. I have worked hard, am well respected, have written major pieces of policy and been involved with leading some fairly significant projects in my time.

The most senior person in my work place has been very supportive of me over the past few years. Through that support, I've been provided with some developmental opportunities, all of which are designed to deal with succession management planning and have as their goal development of competencies required to perform at an executive level.

In fact, for the last two and a half years, I was asked to assume the duties and title ("act") in a position that is at an equivalent management level of two of the jobs for which I had recently applied. And the person for whom I was acting is also educationally disabled - just like me - yet he has the position without the degree. I like and respect that person a lot, but have to note with some irony that he has even less education than I and when I return to my home position, I will be reporting to him.

And today I am told it's nothing personal, but without the degree I will not advance. I was fine to act at that level for over two years without appropriate compensation, but (gasp) we couldn't possibly consider you for that level position.

I am unbelievably hurt and pissed off. Although I was mentally prepared that I would really have to prove myself in an interview, I didn't expect to be told I wouldn't even be given that chance. I'm also feeling a bit ambushed. I am the kind of person who likes to be prepared for things, and I am always in control of my emotions. I do not cry in public, and it almost physically hurts me when I feel like I might lose that emotional control.

I know that the bearer of this news felt like it was the right thing to do ~ to deliver it in person to me ~ but how the meeting was set up and how it all went down just gobsmacked me. I got an untitled electronic appointment. When I called to inquire about the purpose of the meeting, her secretary told me she had no other information. I arrived for the meeting this morning, walked in and saw a representative from Human Resources sitting there, along with a senior member of the staff team. I joked that I wondered if I was getting my pink slip.

I appreciate that they were trying to be supportive, but I could not get out of there fast enough before the tears started to fall. I packed up, came home to lick my wounds and to consider my options.

I can continue with the application process to a degree program, and invest thousands and thousands of dollars, along with a whole shit load of time to get a piece of cow skin for my office wall. I've been working on the application package for a while now, and was planning to apply for the Jan '06 term. Yet another irony - it's a masters level program that allows candidates to prove competency at an undergraduate level by creating a learning portfolio that draws on professional and life experience. So I can prove to a fucking university panel of professors who have never met me that I can operate at a Master's level without a completed undergrad degree, but not to the people who have been working with me for 15 years that this is the case. Of course, as I was told today, it's not personal. It's an HR policy.

I'm leaning toward a life is too short to be obsessed about work thing right now. I'm leaning toward just saying fuck it all, ending my developmental placement (which ironically enough involves leading the employee recognition program) now and returning to my home position. There will be no financial loss in it for me. I can do the job with my eyes closed, although it bores the shit out of me. But I can do the job between 8:30 and 4:30, resolve to take on nothing else, and leave at the end of the day. I've certainly seen many a staff person hit that wall throughout my career. I just never thought that I would be one of them.

It's been a long while since I've felt this kind of hurt. I'm trying to put my faith in the master plan that is out there for me, but trying really hard not to go the route of thinking that perhaps this means I'm meant to have a child that will balance out my life, and fit in to the time previously devoted to work.

With all the irony that seems to have hit me of late, I just know that would be too much to hope for.....in fact, I could literally hear the world snorting in laughter at me even as I typed it out loud.

Feeling Happy

I was reading on Blue's blog (wow...say THAT five times fast!) about how it is that sometimes we only journal when things suck in life. I have always been a journaller ~ and can remember reading back through these journals before I threw them all out, and realizing how I only ever journalled when I was in crisis. Now that's good in a way, because it was almost always cathartic and healing, but when I reread the journals years later I can't help but think about how sad I have been at times during my life. What a shame that I didn't take the time to write about the good times!

Of Sunday, HB and I will celebrate our first wedding anniversary. And you know what? If I were keeping a paper journal now, it would be empty! Yes, we are living with infertility and have absolutely had our share of crisis. Any couple whose relationship survives the loss of a child through miscarriage or otherwise has lived through crisis. But oh my, the good times we have together.

I love waking up and knowing that it's going to be a good day. I have been blessed with a partner who loves and respects me. My house has become a home. If we haven't had a laugh together by 6:30 a.m., one of us is either not there or not feeling well.

I am most fortunate.

And as for the cycle this month? I broke down and actually bought a VIP membership to the charting site. It tells me to wait until the end of the month before testing. Today is day 27. I will test on day 30, which is Sunday.

In the meantime, let's all send healthy delivery wishes to my friend David and his wife. Their first child is due any day now. Warning: pregnant belly shot on his page.

Elvis has left the building

It would now appear that I have_indeed_ovulated. And Thalia wins the prize for correctly pinpointing the date ~ she's obviously a charting expert and her mission, should she choose to accept it, is to act as my interpretation expert from here on. (Ok, there's really no prize and I'm really not hiring a charting assistant, although it's tempting!)

It would also appear that we may have timed ourselves appropriately and accordingly prior to said ovulation. Of course I've been unable to engage in any of the required activity in the last 36 hours due to HB's absence, so said activity may not have been sufficient ~ who knows?

Let the waiting begin.

Frozen Yogurt - the nectar of the gawds

I am on my own for the weekend, and I feel like a teenager. It's been ages since I've had the house to myself, and although I always think it's going to be great, I'm basically lonely by the time the second hour sets in. So I'm engaging in the kind of activity that teenagers do when their parents are away. What's amazing is that these behaviours are all so self destructive and in my grown up case, self sabotage. Things I've done so far have all involved poor eating choices - three bowls of frozen yogurt and french fries for supper. Not mixed together - that would be weird. Besides, I can't have any of my food touch each other on the plate. That's just not right.

I've also been really fighting the urge to smoke this weekend. HB doesn't smoke and really hates it when I do, so him being away this weekend takes away my external motivation to not smoke. When I got pregnant in 2002, I quit smoking and drinking alcohol of any kind. I never picked up the booze again, but have to admit that I snuck back into having a smoke now and again until I was back to smoking fairly regularly. I quit again in November 2004 but for some reason it's really in my head this week. What's with that? Anyhow, I'm in control of that - I read a book a while ago which I must dig out again this weekend. It was called somebody's easy way to quit smoking...can't quite remember who the author is ... but the points that he made are awesome. He asks you to consider things like if you were guaranteed that the next cigarette you smoked would kill you, would you still smoke it? It got me thinking. The whole time I smoked, I just assumed that nothing would ever happen to me because of my smoking. Today I constantly remind myself that I have been on the bad side of every statistic so far. Why the hell would I think that I would escape any of the hundreds of smoking related health issues if I were to start again? I believe that I've been lucky so far, and so choose to think that the next cigarette I smoke will kill me. Therefore I won't smoke that next cigarette. Now I just have to stop thinking about it!

On the conception trail, nothing much is happening this month. I've been charting this month and from everything that I can tell, it's day 21 of this cycle and I haven't ovulated. And it doesn't look it's going to happen any time soon.

More frozen yogurt is in order methinks.

Justice and cute pictures

First, I think this is the cutest picture I've seen in quite a while. What are the odds of getting a pose like that?

We have Frodo and Mini-Me tonight, and we just had the best evening! We watch a lot of kids' shows when they're here .... which, in my opinion, is much better than the all Star Trek-all the time choice I have with HB when the kids aren't here. One show featured bad parental dancing. Which prompted HB and I to get up and do a rocking rendition of the bump, which resulted in a major ticklefest and wedgie contest. It was a good night.

I was delighted and tearful at the outcome of the Amazing_Race last night! When he pumped his hand in the air and yelled "In-vitro here we come!" I was a bawling mess. I so hope that their dreams come true. They struck me as such a highly ethical, loving couple, and I was so pleased to see them come together throughout the race. The stress that they'd been through between job loss and then the whole infertility journey. Justice was served last night ~ I just hope the next round is kind to them both.

Scant Content

I was reading about content struggles on Lala's blog, and it got me thinking about my blog. I look at the tag line of my blog and it describes some of the reasons that I began to blog.

• I am infertile and trying to conceive.
• I am a stepmother, struggling with my role in this blended family.
• I am a woman, struggling with my weight.

I wanted a place to write about the happenings in these areas of my life, although sometimes I think there's not much to talk about there. I can only bitch about my cycle, lack of ovulation and inability to carry to term so often. I could keep a running commentary on my food intake and scale movement (or lack thereof) I guess but I think even I would fall asleep typing it! And things have seemed to settle down with the blending thing so no juice there either.

There is much more to my life, obviously, as I'm sure there is with all the other bloggers that I read regularly. One of my main activities and obsessions is my career. I feel totally unsafe to blog about it, though, as I've read far too many articles about people being fired for blogging about their job.

Makes for scant content though at times, and explains why sometimes there are days between posts. That's not to say there's not major stuff going on in my life ... just nothing I can blog about! I'd love to go on a good rant about career here sometime but it just doesn't feel appropriate.

I am in major decision making mode right now though. I've written a few times about needing to make the decision around continuing on medication assisted cycles or not. Part of the reason that I need to make that decision sooner than later is work related. I am in a position where I will be progressing at my place of employment over the next while. I have received some incredible support from a very senior person at work, and our workforce, like so many others nowadays, is aging quickly. (Speaking of aging quickly, I just caught site of Keith_Richards of the Rolling Stones on tv....oh my gawd!!!!)

Sorry...digressed there for a moment.

In order to progress to a more senior position, though, I need to complete a Masters program. I'm in the midst of applying for it right now, and if accepted, would start either in September 2005 or January 2006. I think I'm leaning toward the 2006 start date. If I complete the program, then the career possibilities that could be opened up are major ... and very time consuming.

HB and I were talking about this tonight. By the way, he's off knob status and back to dreamboat. I was discussing the decision point around the Masters program and my need to consider what was going on with our family - blended or otherwise- as part of that decision. He said exactly the right thing. He said it would not be his decision. That it would be my decision, and his job would be to support me with whatever decision I made.

So I guess I'm not going to get out of it by using him as a scapegoat. Damn.

The choices I didn't make

I took the damn flower at Mass this morning, plus filled out a damn ticket for a damn pair of tickets to a damn Mother's Day lobster supper. Then I sat through the whole Mass hoping and praying that they wouldn't draw my name out because I felt like such a damn fraud!

And my husband, whom I normally adore and think is the kindest, sweetest, gentlest man on earth, is a first class knob today. He actually said to me "what's up with you today? You're in a funky mood! Perk up!"

Perk. Up. WTF?????

I'm seriously questioning whether or not I'm going to continue trying to conceive. Even with clomid, I don't appear to be ovulating, and this clinic that I'm at isn't being much help at all. I am glad that I'm charting this cycle because I plan to make a follow up appointment at the clinic and take the chart in with me for an opinion. There is another doctor there that I've heard really good things about, and am considering asking for an appointment and further opinion from her. I also wonder how much of this might have to do with factors on HB's side of things. After all, we never did manage to get his sperm_tested . I just don't know if I can keep doing this - cycling through hope, frustration; questioning why it is that I can't do what is supposedly so natural to women; not having a place in the world as a parent and wanting it so

I really am learning how important it is to think before speaking. The people at Mass today were just trying to be kind. They had no idea what kind of pain can be caused by seemingly kind gestures. How many other infertile women, or women who have experienced the loss of a child or children, were faced with those same choices this morning in that parish? Take the rose or don't take the rose? Fill out the ticket or don't fill it out?

Ironically enough, as the man handed me the rose, saying Happy Mother's Day to me, he also said "ow...watch that one....there are still thorns on it!"

No kidding.

Should have chosen to walk on by.

Touched

I don't know why the Mother's Day thing is so hard for so many of us ~ it is just another day, right? But I have found that since we started on this journey, it's not just another day. As many other bloggers have been discussing, it's a Hallmark day that just seems to further throw it in our faces that we are not mothers. Sure, I'm technically a parent. I have all the responsibilities but not too many of the perks yet.

They're coming though. We're having supper tonight when Frodo casually comments on how he had to make TWO mother's day cards this year. No one said anything, although I could feel my breathing stop. He went on to say 'yeah TWO cards! One for my mom, and one for you, Sandy. I mean you're practically kind of like my mother".

Even if I never see that card (he left it at his mom's), my heart is forever touched.

And for the first time since we started on this road, I took a stand about what I want to have happen on Sunday. Instead of going up to my parents' place where I cook and clean while all the official mothers sit and be served, I have asked my father to bring my mother into town. We've made reservations at a favourite little italian place, and I will sit and be served.

And if they're giving out flowers to the mothers, I'm taking one. So there.

Pictures

You asked for a picture of Rufus and here it is.
And here's a picture of our dawgs today - one is indeed as tall as me! Barkley_and_Sheba
Not great pictures because I used a web cam to take pictures of pictures ... such a techie am I!

Rufus

It occurs to me that it was right about this time 5 years ago that my dawg, Rufus, had to be put to sleep.

This dog had been my side kick, best bud, and confidante for almost 14 years. He moved eight times with me. He saw me through the first marriage-for-a-minute-by-mistake. He cuddled me when my brother died.

This dog slept on my bed every night. Actually let me rephrase that - he let me have some space on his bed every night.

I left for a trip to Cuba with 11 of my friends on May 1, 2000, leaving a guy that I worked with in charge of my house, my car and my dawg. The vet, whom I would trust with my life (and a fellow infertile/miscarrier, oddly enough), says that she thinks he hung on until he knew I was gone ... and then allowed himself to go. They tried to keep him alive for me until I got back, but in the end she made the decision herself.

She took him into the room, sat on the table with his head in her lap, and told him how much I loved him. She held him while he went.

And when I returned late on a Saturday night, there were strict instructions for me to call her at her cottage ... which I did ... and she cried on the other end of the phone. She had to say goodbye to him for me.

And two years later, we were comforting each other through miscarriages.

Funny funny world.

The Obsessive Infertile

Not sure I'm liking this charting thing. We had friends of mine over for dinner last night ~ had a very enjoyable evening. BBQ steak and good salad; tunes on the guitars and 4 part harmonies. They are currently without a vehicle so I drove them home about 11:30 p.m. (yes, we're getting old...that's considered a late night here...).

When I arrived home, HB was crashed on the couch, remote in hand, walrus sounds ringing from his body. Both dawgs had joined his symphony, and so I left them all in the living room, crawled into bed, and tried to drown them out by blasting SNL on the upstairs television.

So there we were...no kids, no company, nothing good on tv, and sleeping on different floors of the house.

This morning I engaged in the now increasingly familiar thermometre pop routine, and after three days of flat lined temps, saw this .

Of course, I immediately equate any rise in temperature with ovulation. Even though my logical mind (yes, I have one) is telling me it's way too early in this cycle, I'm here this morning convinced that we missed our chance last night. I think I have to have more than a basal themometre in bed with me to make this work, right?

I knew I shouldn't get into this charting thing!