Blah, blah, blah, bullet points...blah, blah, blah.

• I can't even begin to properly and fully describe the amount of dust which has been generated thanks to the re-do of our sodding shower. Not only in the bathroom (which was to be expected) but into our bedroom (I have made the bed properly every working day for the past 2 weeks to keep it off our pillows), and through the bedroom into our upper hall to decorate the stair rails. It's astounding.
• They say the tile work should be done early this week. But then a plumber needs to come out and replace all of the exposed bits with new as the original bits were damaged by exposure to an acid which was supposed to do something to the original grout but only really managed to eat away at the metal in the shower, and some in the rest of the bathroom. So, when we will actually return to using the bathroom and not the one on the other side of the house? I wish I knew. I am assuming at some point before the baby arrives!
• Ordered proper blackout shades for the windows in LO's and Baby's room. Ones which have a metallic film between the layers so light will only come in around the edges, and no cords for safety's sake.  Both rooms have "blackout"curtains which have not been as room darkening as expected.  LO's room has a double width window and has gone through a blackout roller blind which was too wide to work properly and currently has temporary paper blackout shades which do work well but also do not go up and down easily. Both of which were/are frustrating as sometimes it would be quite helpful to have light actually come into the room.  The Baby's room has been a guest room so has not had supplemental blinds to the blackout curtains but more darkening power will be necessary as it is an east facing room and I don't do early mornings (well, I know there will be some, but hopefully they won't be thanks to sunlight)! (shadesshuttersblinds.com have been awesome on both products and pricing - we also got the motorized solar shades for our breakfast area and family room from there)
• Did I mention we put up room darkening roman shades in our room to hide behind our curtains (remade from the bedroom curtains at the old house and never as room darkening as envisioned) a while back? Those replaced temporary paper blackout shades which had been up for long enough that the black part of the paper, facing into the room, had faded almost entirely. (Here I went with el-cheapo non-custom roman shades from JCPenney since they will not get much, if any, movement. They work great, but stank up the room for the first few weeks.)
• Once the shower of doom (TM) is finally completed I'm going to start LO back up on swim lessons. We spent less than an hour in the pool yesterday and 75% of the time DH and I were trying to get her to swim properly - not even the promise of getting to jump off the diving board if she made it across the pool (which I know she can totally do since she was able to swim that distance at a lesson) made a difference - it's just no fun to be in the pool with her since she's confident enough to get herself into but not skilled enough to get herself out of potentially hazardous situations.
• Grocery store run today included: 3 boxes of ice cream sandwiches, 1 tub of ice cream, & half a dozen yogurts (plus other things). Cashier didn't bother to ask if I wanted paper or plastic & then huffed when I asked for paper after she had started filling plastic so I ended up with plastic in paper. Gee, thanks, I really appreciate having yet more plastic bags around to have to figure out how to recycle. And damp ones from the sweating of the cold items in the humid summer air, at that.
• Now DH wants me to go look at the spacing on some of the tiles installed today. He's not happy...and I'm at the point where all I want to do is shout "I don't care, I don't care, I don't care!" (courtesy of John Cusack in "America's Sweethearts") and let it be d-o-n-e DONE. 

Also, RIP Robin Williams.  And sadness for Aly of breathegently whose fears were realized instead of allayed. Holding them in my heart tonight.

I [heart] my broken children. (edited because Blogger hates me)

What the fuck does that mean?

It was a sticker on the back of a mini-van with at least one other sticker on it: NICU Mom.

I saw the "NICU Mom" sticker first and since I've been there myself (no, not for months or years on end, but did my time none-the-less) it caught my attention.  Not quite a warm and fuzzy reaction, but still a feeling of comradery, mutual survival, and so forth (along with thinking it must have been a long stay to commemorate in that way).

And then, then I saw the sticker with "I [heart] my broken children" and I almost literally heard the record player in my head screech into dead quiet. I fail to understand calling your children broken in the public domain.  Perhaps uttered in the darkness of the blackest night when the world feels heaviest upon your shoulders but to put it out there for all, including your children, to see?  I fail to even come close to comprehending how that could ever ever ever be considered okay.
 
Why not take responsibility for that where it lies: your broken body screwed up your children.  Uncharitable, I know.

More charitably, I can only hope it is meant to be a joke, a poor joke that in the end isn't very funny to those who only see the potential for hurt.

Can someone please explain...because I just don't get it.

Lettin' Teh Bitch Out

Teh Bitch? Yes, that is I.  Or is it that is me? Or I am she?  Whatever.  After the past few days, the grammar police are the least of my worries.

So we had the inspection on Tuesday.  Turns out all the work we did in advance was worth it, so there's not really much to deal with.  But the real estate agent for the buyer, the one we didn't chose to represent us? She's excellent at turning mole-hills into mountains - taking it out on us for costing her the other 3% of the commission or just being a PITA because she can, who knows?!

Oh, and the inspector? Broke our Grohe kitchen faucet trying to make the spray function lock down.  News flash: the faucet model we have? Doesn't have a lock down for the spray - it's hold down only.  So we've got to deal with that. 

And guess what else?  He managed to trip the breaker for our irrigation system which we didn't realize before we left for the beach (that's a story to follow) on Wednesday so a good chunk of the grass in our yard is now totally stressed out after 4 days in 95+ degree heat without water.

Furthermore, when we got home today from the beach?  I went to take LO upstairs to her room to hopefully encourage her to resume the 3 minutes of nap she had before we got her out car and the walk up the stairs was like entering our non-climate controlled attic. Or going back outside.  The thermometer on the thermostat said it was 94*.  94 degrees INSIDE the house!!!  So, we're hoping to have that fix covered by the homeowner's warranty coverage for our listing period that we signed up for since it was free. So far the referred company can get to us Wednesday or Thursday.  In the meantime? We'll be sleeping on an air mattress in our office while LO sleeps in her pack & play in the makeshift room we've created in our back hall.  This is when a first floor master or other bedroom would be ever so helpful. 

And LO? Never got to continue her nap. It was a fun afternoon/evening!

~~~~

So, the beach?  If DH had to work I wouldn't have gone alone with LO.  I have not been in the mood to deal with my MIL and it would have been ugly.  Not just ugly, but ooog-leee.  As it was, it still kinda sucked.  The temperatures and humidity were unbearable and I had forgotten my kindle or any other form of entertainment.  LO's birthday is Tuesday (with everything else going on it's a good thing I got the shopping done early, for once, or she would have been getting a bunch of nothing from us.) so we celebrated it with them on Friday.  And my MIL, in a totally expected turn of events, bought way too much crap that LO didn't give a darn about.  Is it wrong of me to be totally thrilled that the 2' diameter ball DH and I bought for $2.50 on a whim at Wal-Mart while searching for some other items was more popular than the crap my MIL bought?  The topper? She had ordered a bunch of stuff I had suggested for LO but had it shipped to their house instead of the beach house and so had gone out and bought more stuff so there would be plenty for LO to open.  If pulling stuff out of gift bags can be considered opening.  Anyway.  She just doesn't get it - but we do.  If it doesn't make her look good, it doesn't matter.  And she thinks lots of gifts make her look good regardless of whether it's something LO is going to like or not.  Thankfully, we were able to leave most of the extra stuff at the beach house for later use, but LO is still going to get the remaining original items at some point. 

The best part of the weekend?  My BIL coming down and making the effort to spend more time with us and with LO.  That, tied with seeing LO getting to steer the jet-ski and power-boat with a great big smile on her face.  We're in so much trouble with this one!

Steamwhistle

I need to vent...

We were supposed to go with DH to Wintergreen since he was working the Tough Mudder this weekend (providing medical care), only Little One popped a 101+ fever on Thursday so she and I ended up staying here instead, and I so so so look forward to the weekends to get some break since DH hardly sees her during the week thanks to his work schedule, but I know after this weekend, when he gets home he's going to be too tired to really do much (which means I feel bad asking him) which means of course that Monday comes without any sort of a break for me (of course had we gone with I wouldn't have gotten a break either, but that's beside the point).

Pout.

I know lots of people have it worse, but I'm really feeling the constant care (plus transition to 1 nap which is running closer to just an hour than I would prefer and doesn't start until between 10 and 11 usually so I'm in my night clothes until I can take a shower) is affecting me negatively - shorter fuse, more yelling, less effort.

Plus, it's sure not helping that Little One screams (in the key of bloody murder for anywhere from 5-20 minutes) herself to sleep every time I put her down for a nap, for the night, or even if she wakes up in the middle of the night which makes me feel like the worst Mom ever for not being able to get her to sleep either quietly or with a minimum of fuss. I'm glad she doesn't need me to be there to help her to sleep, I just wish she would be more quiet about it, or at least not sound like she's in physical pain.

Phew. Back to toddler supervision it is!

Musings on Clutter (Updated)

In the fridge - expired medications from the last IVF cycle (2009).

In the freezer - bags of breastmilk, also expired.

In the pantry/trash - cans of soup. (Potato cheese broccoli from 2010 anyone?)

In my mind - residual sadness we didn't have an oops, residual tiredness thanks to a rude 4:45 awakening Sunday AM, the hope that my actual birthday* brings a SD(+?) card for my new camera & frustration that digital cameras don't include very much memory thus requiring removable memory so I can't play around with it too much just yet.

In the rest of my house - piles of papers on almost every flat surface to deal with "later", placed out of the way of Little One's sticky little fingers, with "later" never seeming to arrive. Or when "later" does finally arrive they are replaced as quickly as the prior ones departed.

It's a rainy yukky day and if Little One didn't have music class we wouldn't be leaving the house. When we return, I will find the energy to make cookies. Homemade cookies always make a day better! As do lap snuggles from the more anti-social of our two kitties.

And yet one more thing: Turns out one of the other moms in our music class went to the same college, in the same department, was only a year ahead of me, and her third is the same age as Little One. That stupid residual jealousy still crops up and bites me when I least expect it!


*One that feels bigger to me than some, as those ending in 5 or 0 can.

Hack Attack

I'll be the first to admit I know very little about properly pruning things so they don't look cut back.

But there comes a point when I can no longer stand the look of a bush or tree and must attack it or suffer great annoyance.

Something tells me my husband is going to be the one annoyed this evening when he comes home and sees what I did to the dwarf japanese maples planted on either side of our front door.

Based on past experience (with the same trees) I know, like an impulsive and bad haircut, they will grow back. It just takes time.

At least this time I didn't try to trim off my finger along with one of the branches...I do learn from my mistakes (mostly).

More Thoughts About 'It'

Heads up to any male/squeamish readers...TMI on the bodily functions may follow.


So, if the past two cycles are any indication, Auntie Flo is due for a visit on Wednesday. And all signs point towards that regularity continuing: Bloating? check. Emotions close to the surface? check. Craving sugars and carbs? check.

DH and I discussed the possibility of going for #2 a couple weekends ago. The conclusion is that if we decide an addition to the family is welcome, we're not going to return to the infertility chase.

Despite my being the one physically going through all the treatments, it was harder on DH emotionally than I realized. Not because he was being my rock, which he totally was, but because of the way his part was so much on the periphery. As he described it a while back, he started to feel like a trained monkey whose participation was required on demand. And when you feel that way about one thing, you start to wonder if it's true about other things...a recipe for relationship issues if there ever was one!

I still feel like our family isn't complete, and would like to try for another, but I think I'm okay if it doesn't happen. Only time can prove whether that feeling is correct or not*. DH isn't quite so positive that we aren't done. On top of that, there are some things which may come to fruition in the next six months or so which would be made more difficult if I were pregnant the time.

So for now, the plan is to revisit the discussion in December/January. And until then we're going to keep using the condoms as much as DH and I both dislike them because there is no way that I want to go back on birth control and potentially screw up my system (again) unless we're 99.9% sure that we are done.



*With the trigger for advanced-maternal-age rapidly approaching (T-2 months and counting), and I'm pretty sure extra watching of subsequent pregnancies thanks to Little One's premature birth (regardless of my age) I'm a bit more impatient in actuality than I make it sound here. But as so many advice columnists like to point out: when it comes to potential pregnancies, the no-sayer rules.

And then...I saw DH more excited than in a very long time

Work's been kicking his ass recently (see prior post re: 2/3 life at work...), and the mega huge project that's been eating his time will be ending in the next 6 months (hopefully!), and that means he's not sure what's next for him at work. After all the excitement of this big project, thinking about going back to what he was hired to do just feels like a let down or something.

For my part, I've been imagining him getting home at a reasonable hour so maybe we could try eating dinner as a family, more time together, extra energy to get to some of the projects around the house which have been backing up, perhaps even going for #2....all very good things.

Thanks to the level of work related frustration (big project=big issues) which has built up, he was doing a quick job search last night and found a position that has him giddy up and over the moon with the possibilities.

Where is it? Back in my hometown, where we met, where I said I don't want to move back because it's gotten too big, too congested, too not like the place where I grew up.

Thing is, I have to admit it'd be a pretty great position for him - and it would still allow him to be home for dinner, more time together as a family, all the items I mentioned above - but GAH! the moving back to the place I didn't want to move back to.

So, while he's been working on updating his resume, putting together a cover letter, and completing the annoyingly tedious online application, in an effort to wrap my mind around the possibility that we could be leaving the house I (mostly) love, the town I've finally made friends in, and the outlet shopping conveniently nearby, I decided to look at the housing possibilities.

And managed to narrow it down from 180+ to oh somewhere in the neighborhood of 25, some of which need serious TLC (of course it's the one I really like!), and some of which just need a coat of paint or new kitchen counters and/or a slap of paint on the cabinets. (Formica tops and oak cabinets were apparently really popular in the area. ::shudder::) And one needs a garage since it appears to have been turned into living space. (Why do people do this?)

I guess cross your fingers, but I'm not sure for what. It's nice to see him so excited by possibility, you know? But it's not so nice having the knot in my stomach thanks to how the possibility could affect me. (Just the thought of moving, even if it was to be merely within town, puts a knot in my stomach. Add in all the other negatives and, ouch! There are some positives, like already mostly knowing the area, schools, shopping, etc. and having my parents in town, but that last one's a double edged sword, KWIM?)

It's not like it's out of the blue that we would move, we've been talking about it for a while, but somehow this just seems more real, probably because it really would be necessary, not just convenient, and probably within the next few months not at some point in the future if all goes well for DH.

Hold me!

It's Back!

And you know, I didn't miss it one single bit.

Honestly, I thought it might just stay away for a while longer, but I guess somewhere between 18 and 19 months without is a pretty good run.

I am glad that I'm not going to have to encourage it to reappear through hormone manipulation though - which was the flip side of my thinking it might stay away a while longer.

The only two questions I have are:
1. Did it return because Little One weaned herself / did Little One wean herself because the milk started to change with the hormonal changes?

And More Importantly:

2. Why the hell did it have to return the day before we are due to leave to enjoy a long holiday weekend????

In Which You Find Me Complaining About Naps, or Lack There Of

Since Little One learned to pull up (yes, she's doing that now), getting her down for naps has been crap-tastic. This morning, I nursed her to sleep which took all of 7 minutes, let her sleep for 4 more minutes before getting up and putting her in the crib. Not a minute later POP! she was up on her hands and knees.

Gone are the days of 5-7 minutes of fussing before she crashed for an hour. Here are the days of 30 minutes of fussing/pulling up/crawling around the crib before she sleeps for only 30 minutes.

Am I a mean mean mommy for insisting she have that "quiet time" when she's obviously tired? Or am I missing the window of opportunity to get her down quickly? Or should I just let her sleep in my arms while impatiently thinking about all the things I could be doing which are harder to accomplish when she's awake and demanding my attention?

The afternoon naps are a rinse and repeat. Please tell me it gets easier!

Stuff On My Mind Today

I dreamed last night that I was baby-sitting for Amalah. Except I didn't actually spend any time with Noah and Ezra. And then her husband showed up and wanted to know all about a paint color decision that I knew nothing about. It was quite strange.

Last night was also the scene of the first hormone induced hissy fit. It was not pretty. But DH saved the day by insisting on running out to the grocery store to get the one item we needed that I would have sworn an oath earlier in the day we had in the freezer. By the time he returned I had had a mini-cry, calmed down and was able to get the rest of the dinner prep moving forward.

Poor DH appears to have unwillingly taken on the heartburn for me. Which stinks since he already had reflux which had been mostly under control thanks to daily prescription medication and the occasional Maalox. Last night he took an OTC of the other type of drug (one inhibits acid production and the other is a histamine receptor antagonist) in addition to the prescription and said he felt like he'd at least had some relief, and he has an appointment with his doctor's office next week so hopefully he can get some relief soon. Maybe it's just coincidence, but who knows; some men gain sympathy weight so sympathy heartburn may not be too far out there.

And totally different subject: Why do I think people who enjoy running are crazy and look down on them? It makes no sense and yet I still do it. I wonder if it's because I run funny myself (always came in last on the presidential fitness runs - once the gym teacher had even stopped timing by the time I finished) and never had any encouragement to improve? I dunno, but I do know it's not fair. I don't look down at long-distance swimmers or bikers, just runners. Any suggestions on how I can change my outlook on this?

Talk About 'Pants on the Floor'!

I broke out the ye olde Motherhood Maternity jeans today.

**Fair warning - I'm petite and had to buy the regular length version as even before washing the petite cut were riding at my ankles. What's up with that?**

Silly me thought that having to pull up my pants was going to be a thing of the past. Now in addition to having to pull up my pants (having the waist loosened on my regular jeans meant that there was nothing there to hold them up...) after every time I sit down, I have to pull up my underwear too. You wanted to know that, right? Maybe it's because I'm still clinging (oh jeez, that's a bad pun) to my Vickie's cotton because they ride comfortably under the mini-bump?

Plus, with the mat. jeans, I get the joy of doing a near constant check to make sure my top hasn't ridden up enough to show off the lovely transition to the navy blue stretchy waist part. Grrr.

So, today's assignments after work: (1) return the items I need to return to the outlet mall, (2) search for medium weight tunic-length tops to help me transition to warmer weather, & (3) hunt for a comfortable pair of clogs (most likely Clark's since that's about the only shoe store there that actually carries size 5 shoes. I'm really hoping my feet go up a size with this pregnancy and stay there so I can find shoes that fit in almost every store.) And do all this before my stomach starts to rebel!

EDIT:
I skipped the outlets in favor of a visit to the closer Kohl's and J.C. Penney. With a quick stop first at Starbucks for a restorative vanilla foam (or whatever the hell they call their steamed milk) and a slice of banana bread (disappointing, however immodest it might be, mine is significantly better!), I started at Kohl's. Oh Kohl's. I think if I say that their maternity line is off-shoot of Motherhood, that's really all that needs to be said, isn't it? I tried, I really did, but there was just no help - even the non-maternity tops I tried on hung down well towards my knees.

Penney's was a different story. While there were still a few unfortunate designs (I'm starting to think that some maternity designers have never actually been pregnant...) the majority of the options were more trendy, more basic and are actually, you know, wearable without screaming "hey look at me I'm pregnant and wearing dorky clothing because it's all I could find." (If you love the Motherhood clothing, good for you. It's just not me!) And that's why I walked out with 3 tops and 2 pairs of jeans for less than $60. Well, that it's actually clothing that looks like the pre-pregnant me, and everything was fantastically on sale.

Something That Bugs Me...

When another driver can't wait for you to get comfortably past the vehicle you are passing, and just as you activate the turn signal to change lanes, swerves around and between the two of you.

It's especially annoying when it's a middle-aged white guy wearing a button down and tie in an SUV doing the swerving and not some t-shirted punk in a souped up sports car.

The latter I almost expect to do something like that, the former I expect to have a little bit more decorum. But I guess appearances can be deceiving.

What's bugging you?

9 Week Update

Yesterday I had my first appointment with the OB/GYN's office. I met with a nurse who seemed more interested in filling out the form than asking how I was doing, and insisted, contrary to the RE (who I think is a BIT more knowledgeable) that my due date was over 2 weeks later. Apparently even though my cycle wasn't "normal" thanks to it being medicated, they still want to use my last period as the starting date. NO. NO. NO. (If you could see or hear how hard I'm hitting the keyboard on those no's you'd be able to understand my frustration with this thinking.)

A urine pregnancy test which (by the way, it came back positive...shocking!) seemed just slightly redundant after 3 betas and an ultrasound, and 7 vials of blood taken were the extent of the the testing done at this appointment. I didn't even get weighed, a UTI test, or a doppler check.

Maybe I'm spoiled, or at least just used to the RE routine - bottoms off, on the table, quick poke with an ultrasound wand, people who are at least semi-familiar with your chart - but frankly, I'm a little shocked that they don't do a first ultrasound until 12-13 weeks, and I have to go to their satellite office where they keep the "certified ultrasound technicians." (Actually since DH wants to be there, that location works out better as it means he doesn't have to head so far into town, but that doesn't mean I understand why they don't have the u/s techs in the main office.)

And I'm disappointed that the nurse doing the intake treated me like I'd never been to the practice before, even though my chart is at least an inch thick and many of the questions that she asked had already been answered on prior visits, completely disregarded the letter sent by the RE, and also didn't give a flip that I had brought the ultrasound printout with the dating that the nurse I had originally spoken to in making the appointment had told me to bring.

As I mentioned last week, DH has been after me to contemplate changing practices. I've been resistant, feeling despite some hiccups with the GYN in terms of how some early testing was approached, that I was comfortable with the practice. But after this visit I'm not sure that I am as comfortable as I thought I was. Unfortunately there are only two other practices in town - one seems to cater to the menopausal set and the other (recently opened) is a satellite office to a practice in a town I avoid as much as possible. The only other option is to go the other direction, towards Richmond, but that means a bunch more travel time for appointments, and I'm not sure I want to drive forty-five minutes to an hour to a hospital when I'm in labor. Feeling between a rock and a hard place I am.

For now, I've got an appointment with an actual doctor next week who I assume will do a pelvic exam, pap smear (though I don't know what would have changed since October), and go over the lab results. I'm hoping they'll throw in a doppler, but I'm not holding my breath anymore. My ultrasound isn't scheduled until Feb. 16th, so I should be (by my and the RE's calculations) at the end of week 13. They tried to schedule it for the following week and I'm afraid I threw a bit of a hissy fit regarding the difference in opinion on dating.

They also sent me home with a goodie bag with things like pre-natal vitamin samples (hello, the carbon of the RX your Dr. gave me for prenatals is sitting in my file right next to your arm!), pre-baby shopping guides from Babies-R-Us and Target, the December issue of Fit Pregnancy, a flier about Folic Acid (see prenatal RX comment above) and the office printed-and-bound guide to pregnancy. Which is only concerning because the front cover lists the nurse-practitioner I used to see at the practice. The thing is, she left the practice over 2 years ago. (Warning, Will Robinson, danger!) Now I know that forms don't always get updated quickly, but that seems a little ridiculous.

After getting home from Bunco last night, I started to flip through the magazine and other paperwork. Holy baby care Batman! Looks like I'm going to have to do some intensive cramming over the next 7 months.

Still with the morning sickness and general nausea when I haven't eaten recently enough. Still with the fruit cravings - currently satisfied by applesauce, cherries, and tangerines. I'm back on Caffeine Free Coke and enjoyed a large glass of 2% milk last night, but water is still only good for a short time after events of stomach eruptus. Not so much with the tomato products any more - but I haven't picked up any other desires though a Wendy's frosty can still rock my world.

Oh, and, surprise, I'm down a couple pounds from before I got pregnant.

An Open Letter to Pat Robertson

Dear Mr. Robertson,

You are an idiot. If you are going to blame current events on history, get your history right.

Sincerely,
One Who Hopes You Get What is Coming To You

An Additional Something To Try

Saturday I added a 81mg aspirin to my existing morning pill regimen of pre-natal vitamin, fish oil, and glucosamine/chondroiten. Compared to the others, it is minuscule.

Despite my fond memories of the chewable orange flavored St. Joseph's brand I decided it wasn't worth upwards of ten extra dollars to go brand name for the same amount of pills as in the generic bottle.

I'm not exactly sure what the aspirin is supposed to do exactly, (I'm thinking it has to do with blood flow? I haven't checked Dr. Google yet, so if you know, feel free to impart your knowledge.) but it certainly can't hurt and will possibly help the next transferred embryo stick around for longer.

~~~~

I read another bloggers post last week about the decision that IVF was not for them. It really pushed my buttons; and in my comment, in addition to a reasonable statement, I said so using those words. That portion of my comment really inflamed some of the other commenter's which really surprised me. Apparently by saying that her words had pushed my buttons meant that I didn't respect her decisions and that I was speaking for the rest of the IVF readers. When what I meant was that what she had to say affected me negatively and rather than explode my issues all over her comments section I was refraining. Maybe not the smartest thing to write, but not a reflection or judgment on her decisions but my own reactions to how she wrote about them. It wasn't until I read those following comments that I realized that the loss of two weeks ago is probably still coloring some of my reactions as well as my own continuing love/hate feelings towards IVF.

I do enjoy her posts, so I will keep reading, but I don't think I'm going to comment again anytime soon. What would you think, if some one had written that you post pushed their buttons, in either your comments section or in the comments section of another blog? Was I out of line?

My head exploded on the way into work this morning.

As I drove into work, I was listening to the local semi-alternative / independent radio station this morning and there was an advertisement for the local flagship store of a very well known scented candle company.

In that store they have a lot of different departments, or so I've heard. Despite carrying around a decent sized gift certificate in my wallet for a year, I've not actually been in the store. The main reason is because I'm afraid of the scent overload headache that I've experienced just walking into one of the smaller stores. Or just walking by one of the smaller stores. Secondary, I haven't thought of anything I might need there as I already have a nice scented candle collection I rarely burn. But I suppose I need to go soon or it might be a repeat of the Ruby Tuesday episode.

Anyway, this advertisement was talking about the upcoming events being held at the store - one of which was pumpkin decorating with Mr. & Mrs. Claus.

(Excuse me, just writing about it makes my head want to explode all over again.)

Now I understand they maintain a Christmas department with the Clauses' year round. That's fine. It's not the first or last Christmas store in the area.

What I do have a problem with? Mixing holidays. It's bad enough that several of the stores I've been in recently already had displays of Christmas decorations, but to mix the two holidays? Auuuggggghhhh. It's not right.

Am I alone in this feeling or am I just missing out on the spirit of the season?

All Done For Another Year

Gotta love an early morning appointment - in and out in a little less than an hour. AND only one pregnant belly (with accompanying later-elementary school age kids) in the waiting room as I was leaving. Of course, it couldn't go completely smoothly - but I guess when someone is just under one trimester and has been spotting for 3 days, that does take precedence over little old me - and at least that didn't set my appointment back too much and I had learned my lesson last year and brought a book to entertain myself so I wasn't waiting impatiently imagining the hands moving around the clock.

The biggest shock - as I was getting ready to leave he called me by a nickname a very short list of people are allowed to use. My high school best friend's father, my grandmother, and my father-in-law are the only ones I allow to call me that without invisible flaming daggers flying from my eyes. Fortunately for him he was not in front of me, so he got neither the flaming daggers nor the polite reprimand I use for such occasions. It's a fine name, it's just SO NOT ME. (Think a Jennifer being called Jenny when she never goes by it. Okay for others, but not how she wants to be known.)

He suggested I get a cholesterol test - apparently there have been correlations between high cholesterol and hypertension in pregnancy - so I'm thinking about that, and he made some recommendations for a primary care physician as I don't really have one since a couple of years ago mine started this executive health clinic where wealthy businessmen can get themselves checked out in a fancy one stop shop, and I didn't want to pay the yearly thousands to stick with him. Guess it's a good thing I haven't gotten sick, but he's right, I need to get in with one so I have that contact if there is an issue. It would be the adult thing to do. Sigh.

Happy Freakin' Birthday to Me

Yesterday's # was 11. That's it. No more.

And DH had the gall to ask me why I hadn't followed up with someone on a question HE has a problem with when the person called yesterday. Um, maybe because I'm still processing the realization that this much longed for pregnancy basically ended before it even got going and it's taking up all my extra brain cells?

I guess I should have been much more specific with my wish last year - not only to be pregnant (check) but to end up with a healthy baby at the end (no check).

So now I'm waiting for my body to realize the hormones have stopped and end the cycle. Not exactly the kind of waiting I was looking forward to. From there, the "recurrent miscarriage" blood tests for immunologic issues and clotting. Might as well get them over with, I'm not getting any younger over here. Then, depending on timing of periods, the next treatments probably won't start until December or January.

So yeah, Happy Freakin' Birthday to me.

Still Here - Still Waiting For News

When the people at the hospital reception and lab start to recognize you, you know you've been there too many times.

I do have to say that the phlebotomist I've seen all three times has done an excellent job - I have not had a single bruise from any of the sticks and she makes sure the alcohol has dried before the stick so there isn't any additional sting from that.

~~~

At this point I'm not expecting good news.

I've not had any of the "typical" indicators - apart from some late afternoon bloating - my boobs have been just fine, I've not had any nausea (except for some easily dismissed last night thanks to the residual stress from the dream in which I made a receptionist at my RE's office cry because she hadn't faxed the paperwork to the hospital for today's draw - I wasn't worried about that much, huh?), no heartburn, sensitivity to odors, etc, etc.

~~~

Yesterday, when we got home from the mountain, the mail contained the package my mother-in-law told us she was sending last week after DH shared that the FET had been successful. It turned out to be a dvd from the National Geographic channel - one I would never, ever choose to watch, IF or not. But especially in light of how things are now apparently going it was one thing I didn't want to see.

I'm sure she thought she was doing something nice. And it is definitely something SHE would enjoy. And something she thought she could contribute to share her excitement that we were finally pregnant. But last night, after a weekend of worries, it was a bit like having salt casually tossed in an open wound.

~~~

Speaking relatively of open wounds (something I am much more comfortable with than the subject of the dvd, thankyouverymuch), tomorrow is my birthday. For some reason (oh I don't know, what do YOU think it might be) it's not been a big priority for me, except in regards to the whole "I really want to be pregnant/have a baby by my next birthday" wish that's gone along with blowing out the candles every year since we've been trying.

I guess by this afternoon I'll know what to wish for this year.

~~~

Despite my apparent readiness to believe that things have gone south, I'm really hoping for good news and will be crushed. And I really don't want to be crushed on my birthday. It was hard enough to smear a semi-positive outlook on my face for the social events I attended this past weekend. I'd really appreciate any good thoughts and crossed fingers you could spare today.