On being a woman

I had a rough day. Having a rough day coupled with pregnancy hormones makes for quite an adventure.

I was busy and stressed at work. It happens quite often. The end of the day came, but I was left with a bit of important work to finish. The call goes out to my husband. "Where are you? Can you make it to daycare in time to pick up?" He informed me that he was slightly behind schedule. No "extra 5 minutes" for me. Time to head out.

I was in tears not long into my drive home. Yesterday my husband called me at work to inform me that he was 45 minutes beyond the end of his shift and hadn't left work yet. It was stated as a fact, and the message was clear. I was required to pick up from daycare. It's true that he doesn't have a very easy time controlling exactly when he's able to get home because of traffic and weather, and these things don't affect my travels quite as much. I did my motherly duty and made sure to pick up right on time. Comparing his experiences and mine from yesterday evening to today, I realized how hard it is to be a woman. In the time since I've had a child, I don't remember a time where my husband was required to pick up from daycare. In other words, I don't remember ever calling to inform him that I was already too late to do the task. This assumption that I will cover when his career gets him tied up was one of the things that set me off today.

Let's rewind a bit. Just over a year ago I had an opportunity for some change and growth in my career. It happened to come right around the time we had planned to start up our fertility treatments and expand our family. These were tough decisions for me. I liked what I was doing just fine, but I wanted to make sure I was moving forward and building some experience at work. The opportunity required some travel initially, and it would likely cause issues with timing the required appointments in our fertility cycles. After much thought, we delayed our family plans slightly so I could move forward a bit at work.

Now back to current times. Taking advantage of opportunities has led me to the edge of what I believe to me more opportunity in the near future. This time I'm pregnant. There is no room to discuss. Our family is expanding! Although I work with women who have kids and although the law protects pregnant women from discrimination, it's obvious that my current state could potentially impact my ability to progress. When there is growth happening, a company need someone who can be there. I can't hide the fact that I won't be there. Once again it is women who bear the weight (quite literally) of the family. We wear our inability to devote ourselves entirely to our jobs right on the front of our bodies as a reminder for our coworkers.

When I woke up my daughter this morning to get ready, she was in a funk. She seemed upset. When I asked her what was wrong, she informed me that had wanted to stay in bed and snuggle with me. I had to tell her that there is no time for such things on weekday mornings. She would have to wait and essentially schedule herself into mom's day. Talk about breaking a mom's heart! I wanted nothing more than to stop everything and get into bed with her. This is especially true in my last few months with just one baby. I couldn't snuggle her. While I did make up for it tonight with some special snuggle time, it sure made it hard for me to work today with a clear mind!

I'll admit that it's hard for a tired, pregnant woman to be fair about the division of labor in her family. I probably don't have the most rational views on life at the moment! After being sick for three months, gaining weight, losing sleep, and facing the prospect of birth followed by constant breastfeeding alone in the middle of the night while my husband slumbers peacefully, I feel frustrated. Then I remember a few things.

I remember that it's my family I will remember at the end of my life. I won't be looking at photo albums to remember my coworkers! I remember that being a woman brings opportunity too. I have known this baby boy for quite some time in a way that no one else can. I know he's active. I know he's up at night sometimes. I know he loves it when I eat sugary foods. When he stops moving around the moment my husband puts his hand on my belly, I know he will begin again a moment later and I will feel it. I get to feel it all the time. I know that in my blur of tiredness after his birth, there will be beautiful, quiet moments in the night when I feed my baby and share moments with him that my husband will inevitably miss. I know that I have achieved something that at one time I never thought I'd achieve. I have a family! What a blessing!

I have to give my husband some credit too. Although it sometimes feels like he assumes that his career is more important than mine, I know he doesn't mean it. He's an amazing person. I'm not an easy person to live with! While I lash out and make mean spirited comments sometimes, he refrains from attacking me. He continues to love me for who I am. He doesn't complain about sharing household chores like cooking and cleaning. He often does more than me in that arena, and that's especially true lately. He does his own laundry and always has. He somehow manages to share my views in life more than anyone I've ever met. We are universally on the same page.

I have so much to be thankful for. It's just that sometimes this life is still so hard. I think it's especially hard for women. In some ways I think we are betrayed by our biology. Being the givers of life yet living in the modern world sure makes me feel doubly burdened by responsibility sometimes. I don't think that men feel it in quite the same way as women. It's a unique experience with its good and bad aspects. I have one more thing I can be thankful for tonight. I can share these feelings with other women who understand how it feels and we can support one another.

Sleeping Arrangements

A coworker of mine and his wife are expecting a baby boy too. Their due date is only 2 days different than ours. He also has just one other child - a girl. Very similar! We were chatting about sleeping arrangements for kids the other day. They have decided to have their baby boy in their room for 5-6 months. Then they will be putting him in their 6 year old daughter's room indefinitely. He said that his 6 year old isn't ready to sleep in the basement yet, so they decided to have them share rooms for awhile.

The conversation got me to thinking about kids and their different levels of independence. How young is too young to have a child sleeping "far away" from you in the house? Do kids develop a fear of such things at a certain age? Is it a personality thing where some kids are scared but others never develop that fear? I'm curious about it! My guess is that it depends on the kid and it depends on the parents. What do you think?

It's a...

Hello, friends! I just wanted to let you know that the little bundle we are expecting is a boy! That leads me to an interesting debate. There was a big part of me that didn't want to face this decision, but I will soon face it... circumcision. I'd like to know (if anyone feels compelled to share). What did you do? I'm inclined to not do it. It seems largely cosmetic and unnecessary, but I've never raised a boy. Help! Weigh in if you feel like sharing. If not, I understand. It's kind of personal, isn't it? I don't think there is a right or wrong answer here. Decisions, decisions.

Working Mom

I found out today that our wonderful daycare family is moving. They have lived very close since our daughter was a baby. They aren't going far, but it is an added inconvenience. This is just one more event that is making me want to be home more. With my second child on the way, I long to be home more. No one can care for my kids like me, and I know that when I have to take this baby to daycare and drop him/her off, it's going to break my heart.

I have some hard things to think about. I'm almost positive that we can't make it financially without my income. I'm still determined to run the numbers, but I'm pretty sure I know how they will look. While we don't live an expensive lifestyle, neither of us really makes enough to support the family alone. I also don't think I want to stop my career for a period of time. I can't say that I've gotten very far with it, but I don't know if I want to close that door entirely when I'm actually working in the same field that I pursued during my education, and the same field I've been in for more than a decade.

Being a mom is hard. We give up a lot and we do it willingly. Our kids drive us crazy, but they make us love more than we ever thought possible. I want it all. I want my career and my family. I want them both full time. I can't seem to find the right balance. I keep thinking that there's something I'm overlooking. I hope I can figure it out soon.

Summer is over!

I've been meaning to blog for so long. I thought I'd drop in tonight and leave a sloppy little post. You'll have to forgive me. I've been busy with a big project, and it forced me to take this rather lengthy break from my blog. I can't promise that I have much time now, but I'm going to try because I have so many thoughts to get off my chest. This is a good place for me to vent it all out into the cosmos. So... what is my big project? Well, I'm growing a little human! I'm going to be a mama again! Wow, that first trimester wiped me out. No blogging for me during all of that! I'm now into the second trimester. I'm not so sick, not quite so tired, but we are experiencing many changes in our lives that are still keeping me busy around the clock.

The basics... I'm pretty sure my diagnosis of Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome was wrong. My doctor wasn't a fan of that label and feels that the specialist was grasping at straws when he handed it down. Clearly there are some things that doctors can't account for. I was a few weeks pregnant while I was at the appointment and I didn't know it! We finished our fertility treatments in May and planned to take a break. We had an upcoming vacation and wanted to take time away from it all. We were going to talk about it all at the end of the summer and determine what to do next. We were very close to giving up. We did absolutely nothing medical in June. I never believed what people said about people getting pregnant the moment they adopted/quit trying etc. I guess they were right. I quit trying and I conceived! Well, we conceived anyway... I need to give my husband a little credit here!

So much to talk about, but not enough time tonight. I need to get to bed so I can keep this little babe growing!

Beep!

The person who was managing this blog is on a little mental vacation. She is enjoying the weather, getting some sleep, organizing things, and making big plans with her family. She plan to rejoin this blog shortly. In the meantime, leave a message and she'll be sure to catch you up on her crazy, amazing life soon.

Beep!

Ignorance Isn't Bliss

I'm finally frustrated enough to comment on something I often think about: food. Don't worry, it's not too much of a rant! I'm not sure how I became passionate about food, but I did. Well, I guess I have an idea. Here's a story to bring us up to today:

Flash back to me in my mid-teens. On a family camping trip that brought us to multiple states, I ended up at a rodeo in Wyoming. I watched as the cowboys roped the calves. They were rough. They pushed them around, pulled them to the ground, and tied all of their feet together. I also watched them ride bulls who had been picked on to the point of anger. Something struck me. There was nothing kind or gentle about it. I had always loved animals of all kinds, and I felt really horrible watching them being treated like that. I cried. I told my mom that I wanted to be a vegetarian. She informed me that since she purchased our food and made our meals, this wasn't an option. I think she thought it was a phase.

Fast forward to college. Not long into my first year (and my 3-meal-a-day ticket), I realized that the meat in the college dining room wasn't the most appetizing I'd seen. I also had a new interest in my health, and began reading about diet. I decided to try cutting out red meat. It was pretty easy. Then I read something telling me about chicken and how it can be high in cholesterol - sometimes more than red meat. Chicken was cut out. Again, it was easy. The more I read, the more I learned. I was soon able to cut out the last meat: fish. And I liked fish. The more I cut out, the more I found to replace it. I realized I didn't miss any of it all that much. I lost a few pounds, and I felt good. It seemed to be a really positive change.

Now that I was officially "vegetarian," I turned my reading to vegetarian articles. I found so many reasons to keep up my eating habits. Cruelty, pollution, abuse, quality control issues in slaughterhouses... I became more and more certain that what I was doing was important.

That leads me to today. I am convinced that the biggest reason to be a vegetarian is a growing population and the inefficiency and pollution of the meat industry. While I wish most people would convert, I know it's probably not realistic. My wish is for people to decide that the earth can't sustain a supply for the level demand, so we should cut down. If everyone would eat one vegetarian meal a day, or have one vegetarian day a week, the difference would be significant. I'm passionate about this, and it frustrates me to no end that people don't know and don't care where their food comes from. How did it get to your plate? Please ask yourself this question!

I am actually proud to be known for having a little soap box that I like to pull out. I try not to do it often. People aren't interested in my opinion most of the time. I guess that's why I have this blog! I just get frustrated when people wave their hands in front of their face and tell me that they don't want to know. I feel that we can't afford to bury our heads in the sand. This isn't only true for diet. We need to pay attention to our world - to the people in charge. Too many people are waving their hands in the air and saying, "No, don't tell me. I don't want to know." Well, you have to know. I would rather someone listen to something and disagree with it than not listen at all. We owe it to ourselves to seek out truth and make conscious decisions based on it. It's not always convenient, but it's essential to life. I want to have a decent world to pass along to my kids. Don't you?

A Long Night

Tonight was challenging. My daughter seemed to make it her goal to break me. She wouldn't come home with me when it was time to leave daycare. She battered me with kicks as I tried to put her shoes on. She had a time out in the daycare lady's kitchen before we could even get out the door. When we got in the door at home, she wouldn't remove her shoes or come upstairs. I walked away. She eventually came up. She wouldn't sit up to eat, so she spent 3 minutes in her bed awaiting the oven timer as a cue to come out. Normally she watches one cartoon each night if we get done eating in time. The requirement is that we use the bathroom prior to the show. Are you getting the pattern here? Yes, she wouldn't use the bathroom so we didn't watch any cartoons. She didn't seem to care. She'd much rather disobey than watch a cartoon.

Bedtime was the same. A toothbrush with toothpaste was met with thrashing head and pursed lips. A final bathroom trip resulted in a bottom hovering over the seat because sitting down would represent some type of defeat. When it was time to put on pajamas I had a limp noodle. I was done. I picked up my fully clothed child and put her in her bed. I slammed the door behind me. She was perfectly content in there. She was ready to sleep in her clothes. I wasn't ok.

I sat down and cried. I cried because I didn't have any enjoyable time with my daughter tonight. I cried because sometimes I feel like a toddler has me beat. I cried because I'm tired. I cried because I worry about my ability to successfully parent. I cried because I want my daughter to be the best that she can be, but I'm not sure how to make that happen sometimes.

About ten minutes after I left the room, I went back. I asked her to put on her pajamas. She reluctantly agreed. I asked her to use the bathroom - for real. She did. I wondered if she thinks that I regard her as "naughty." I don't like that word. I think it can be a self-fulfilling prophecy. I sat her down on my lap and asked her if she thinks she is a good girl or a bad girl. "Good girl," she answered. Ok, good. I told her that I think she's a very good girl too but sometimes it's hard to spend time with my good girl when she makes the choice to disobey. I told her that my night isn't as much fun without my best girl acting as Mommy's Helper. We had a little talk. I told her that I love her. I felt better. I hope somehow that she felt better too.

This was a rough night. I did my best. It's amazing that we are challenged so much as parents and we feel like we are at our wit's end, but a small kiss on the cheek at the end of the night makes it worthwhile. I can only hope that the sum of my days with her end up giving her a feeling of positive self esteem and a sense of responsibility. All I can do is my best.

Not Me Monday

Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by MckMama. You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week .



I did not tell my child that it was bedtime when it was really much earlier in order to take advantage of the fact that she can't yet tell time. Then I did not proceed to use that extra time drink wine with the neighbors on a week night and talk about how long my baby monitor range will allow me to go.
I would never allow more days between my daughter's baths because I've been feeling particularly lazy in the evening.
I certainly didn't lie on the couch and snooze a bit while my husband cleaned the bathroom. I would never let him work while I rest!
Life is always crazy around here, so I have been sneaking in any "me-time" I can!

Check out MckMama and find out what other moms don't do!

Summer Fun

It's clear that this blog is going to have to be sparse during these summer months. We only get a few truly nice days, and I plan to spend them having fun!

Last weekend we went to Toy Story 3 as a family. It was our first attempt at a movie with my daughter, and she did very well. We also visited a splash pad, and took a long bike ride (which prompted me to purchase a softer seat. All I can say is: "I'm old." and "Ouch!")


We were able to attend a "Gotcha Party" for a little girl too. I had no idea what this was, but google helped. Adoptive families sometimes celebrate the day their adoptions became final, or the the day they officially "got" their child. It's a great idea, and the party was at the home of some dear friends of ours who really know how to entertain in style. What a fabulous weekend!

Monday brought with it our appointment at the fertility doctor. It's difficult to sum up the feelings I have about it. In the first five minutes, we had discovered my diagnosis. Finally. This diagnosis has never been spoken to me, hinted at, or even attempted until now. It was sureal to hear it after having spent years of my life only knowing that something is wrong, but not knowing what it is. The diagnosis was Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (also known as PCOS). The doctor seemed to feel that I'm a textbook case of PCOS, so I was surprised that no one has ever made this connection before. He never ran any tests or examined me. He simply read the same medical records that have been in front of my doctors for years. I was relieved and angry at the same time.

The doctor went on the explain how PCOS works, and how it affects your life. As I sit here tonight, I still have yet to google it (and I'm amazed at my restraint thus far!), but apparently this syndrome results from a chronic imbalance of hormones. Because these hormones are out of their normal ranges, I don't produce eggs. When I do (usually with the aid of medication), the eggs are poor quality. This can result in a higher chance of birth defects and miscarriage, and they have a medication to help correct this. Huh. That hit me like a brick wall. If this had been diagnosed earlier, I would have had a smaller chance of dealing with something like Triploidy. That thought was pushed out by gratitude to God for giving me a beautiful, healthy daughter. I'm crying as I write this because I am struck again by what an amazing miracle she is. Thank you, God.

The doctor gave us a plan that we are now deciding when and if to enact. He also told me that PCOS brings with it a higher chance at ovarian cancer and elevated risk for developing diabetes. When I'm not trying to conceive, I need to be on the pill for the rest of my childbearing years to keep my hormones in check, and to bring down my chances of cancer to a normal level. I'm upset that I've spent years off the pill adding unecessary risk to my life because my doctors weren't proactive. How could I have known without medical advice? It's counterintuitive to take the pill when you are infertile and trying to conceive for many years! I'm also upset after discovering that the care I was given thus far has been more expensive than the care given by Dr. Super Specialist. It brings home the point that we all need to be our own advocates. We can't trust the doctors to know what to do. We must seek out answers and constantly question the care we are given.

Ironically, with all of the discussion of my reproductive future, I also received a call from the cremation people. I discovered that my son's remains were never scattered as we had directed at the time of his birth. Apprently there was a consent form missing that prevented them from carrying out our wishes. Since we are young and hadn't yet planned for our exits at that time, we didn't know what to do but have him scattered. We certainly couldn't see spending thousands on a service and burial when our son's passing was so personal and his life so brief. We also knew that any future attempts at pregnancy could get expensive quickly. Cremation and scattering of ashes in the cemetary seemed appropriate. For some reason, I'm thinking about changing my mind now that I know he's still here. I have been given another chance to decide, and I wonder if keeping his ashes for a time and scattering them in one of my favorite places might be more appropriate now. My little thimble of ashes costs $50 to ship, so we may have to make a trip to collect his remains if we decide to go that route. I'm just not sure what I want to do. Old feelings feel raw now in the wake of this discovery. Do they have a warehouse of ashes somewhere or what? Strange.

I have a lot to think about.

Technicolor Dreams

My world just got more colorful. This is a picture I took Memorial Day weekend. I didn't pose my daughter. This is just how she looked relaxing by her pool.


I love the way the color can be turned up to make it more vivid. I love how the whites are blinding. I've been locked in a room editing photos tonight as I have been every night this week. I'm fascinated with this program (Lightroom) and its ability to adjust everything so it all looks just like it does in my head.

This little guy is my new nephew.


Isn't he adorable? I'm biased of course, but I'm quite proud. And envious. You know, but I won't go there. Nope. I took this photo just last weekend. Not half bad, right?

I actually have no idea what I'm doing to tell you the truth. I barely understand my camera, and I only use a handful of the features on the software, but luckily I can come up with something I like once in awhile. I guess that's all that matters right? I'm making these photos right for my eyes and my memories. I've really been enjoying it.

Enough about my love affair with Adobe Lightroom. I will pause from my event planning and constant photo editing to give a quick update of random happenings.

I absolutely love the age my daughter is at right now. She is trying at times, but she's also hilarious, spontaneous, witty, smart, observant, and chatty. I'm enjoying every minute of it. She has taken to naming everything, and she comes up with the funniest names. The turtles we saw at the pet store were "Joggy" and "Gingie." I'm not sure where she comes up with these things! She thinks that I know everyone. We can't drive past a biker on the road or walk past a group of people in a store without her asking who the people are or what their names are. She is becoming an expert at pretending. She has voices for her animals and dolls. She plays out little scenarios. She imagines that her toys are all kinds of different things. It's fun to watch, and it's fun to be a part of. Due to her recent affinity for Diego, we now play an animal rescue game quite often where we use a "field journal" (toy phone) to help us rescue her stuffed toys. She rescues them again and again. I just wish I could freeze her here. She's a joy.

I've been feeling restless lately. It's probably because I can't seem to move my life in the directions I want. I spend 8 hours a day working. I need 8 hours to pursue my passions! I'm left with no time. I like literature, music, environmental causes, promoting vegetarianism, photography... I have a real passion for all of these things, but no time to indulge. Except when I should be sleeping. Like right now for example. I just wish I could use my work hours doing what I love. Turns out no one at my job really wants to hear about how bad I think the meat industry is. No one is interested in where their food comes from. They certainly don't want to know about digital compression and how it's killing music, but that's what I want to talk about all day. Is that normal? Do most people reserve their passions for the weekend and feel satisfied? That doesn't feel like enough for me. I'm sure I'll find a remedy, but I don't have it yet.

Until then I'm going to eat cookies and edit photos instead of sleeping. That's how I'm getting by for now.

Checking in...

This blog has been dormant for quite some time. I'm writing lots in my head, but not much here! The problem?

1) I have a 30 day free trial of Adobe Lightroom. It took the first 20 days for me to get comfortable and well versed in the many awesome features it has, and now I'm squeezing out every last bit of photo editing before I lose it! I can't afford the program now, and I'm a huge photo freak. I've locked myself in the basement and I'm about to go back to my post. (download the free trial and you will lose your mind like me!)
2) I have a new nephew. He was born last week, and in the last two days I have photographed him, and now I'm editing those photos. (see # 1)
3) I'm in party planning mode for a big event coming up at our house. I have lots of cooking, cleaning, organizing, and errands going on.

So dear friends, I promise to write more later. I've got photos (freshly edited) and updates galore. Coming soon. I think I've said that before. I guess life is too busy sometimes to stop and write about it!

Sad.

Today was the end. Eight or nine months of attempting to become pregnant have passed. We have been unsuccessful. I didn't think I'd feel so sad. I think it was more intense this time because I know we're taking a break. For real this time. I don't think we'll start up again until August or September. While the disappointment I feel each month is hard, at least I'm constantly trying. I constantly have new hope. There is no hope now. We will will not reach our goal in the next few months. It's hard to think about that.

I was thinking today about how strange my pursuit of having children has turned out. My first pregnancy was achieved with Clomid. I took a pill for a few months and got the good news that it had worked. You all know how that story turned out. When all was said and done and we started to try again, we were sure Clomid would do the trick again. Months passed. Nothing. We decided to graduate to medication coupled with insemination. After a couple of cycles, we had success again. Somehow we still didn't learn. This time we were sure the same treatment would work because it worked last time. We were wrong. Each attempt at pregnancy has required more intervention. It's strange how that has worked out. I don't know what the specialist will suggest when we meet with him in a few weeks. It looks like we will have to move on to "Plan B." Er... Plan H. I can't keep track anymore.

I'm not sure why I torture myself, but I'm watching a show right now called "I'm Pregnant And..." which details the lives of pregnant women in difficult situations. Tonight they had a woman who is pregnant and homeless followed by an episode about a pregnant woman in prison. I can't understand how life works. It seems unfair for some women to be stuck with infertility when they are in safe and secure relationships with homes, food, stability, education, employment, and the desire to have children. At the same time there are so many pregnant women with no resources who have made poor decisions and were not even trying to conceive. It's even worse that adoption is so cost prohibitive to couples who so badly want to have the babies that no one else wants. I can't make sense out of it.

When I realized that this cycle had come to an end today, I felt peaceful about it for awhile. I thought about how I will be able to enjoy a few nice cold beers on the deck this summer. I will be able to catch up financially. I will be able to stop trying to set up a work schedule around my many appointments. I will be able to stop looking for symptoms and waiting for news. I'm looking forward to that part. I'd trade it all for a baby though. I heard a soft and tender song on the radio this afternoon and started to cry while I was driving. It hit me hard.

I never like those times in my life when I can't see God's plan. I don't like it when His plan doesn't fit mine. One of the hardest things to deal with is letting go of what you want and accepting what He wants for you. I have faith. I know it's right. It just doesn't make today any easier.

Tonight I'm repeating The Serenity Prayer to myself and having a small glass of wine. I'm crying. I'm remembering how amazing it is that I was given a daughter when the odds are stacked against it. I'm wondering how this chapter will turn out. Tonight I'm sad.

Empathy

I'm sick. I literally felt sick today. I know someone who is going through the same thing I did with my little boy and his Triploidy. The more I share about my experiences, the more the word gets out. I met her through some mutual acquaintances who knew that I might be able to offer some knowledge or comfort.

As rare as I thought Triploidy was, I'm amazed I can find someone else nearby who is going through it. Up until this point, all of my experiences with it have been with moms online. This is the first time it's a person I now know in real life.

I've been following her journey, and making feeble attempts at helping in any way I can. When she shares about the emotion of it all, it brings my feelings flooding back. I feel her pain as if it's my own. I feel so helpless. I wish there was a way for me to make sure that no one would ever have to feel that way. I wish I could do more for her. It just makes me sick.

I keep kicking around ideas about how I could do more to help more people. I could write a book. I'm not sure how I can steal away time to do that when I can't even find time to blog! I could open up an email address for contact with other moms. This is something I've been thinking about for awhile. Sometimes I feel overwhelmed by social media. It takes a lot of time to keep up, and I fear that another email to maintain might end up being too much for me. Still, I feel compelled to do more. Create a support group? Volunteering at a hospital? It's all too much to think about right now. Tonight I feel tired. I feel ready for a long weekend. I feel sick for my new friend and her pain. My mind is with her tonight.

Tradition

You can tell the weather has improved because I've been more absent here. It's too hard to sit behind a computer when it's nice outside. Maybe I just need to get out on the deck with the laptop in the evening!

This weekend my husband and I will celebrate an anniversary. I've been enjoying reading other blogs and discovering that some couples have traditions they share on certain occasions like this throughout the year. While we do have some basic holiday traditions, I'm starting to think we could benefit from something new. We don't see each other as much as I'd like, so I feel like we often struggle to connect. I think it's a common issue for families with young children. The only time we can find to really be together is over a movie once or twice a week. We only have a babysitter about 4 times a year. Yes, that's right. We date quarterly. It's really starting to get me down.

As our anniversary approaches, I'm trying to think of something fun we can add into our boring old routine. I want some kind of tradition. Any ideas?

Medicine Buffet

I realized this week that we've been spending an abnormal amount of time in the pharmacy and at the doctor's office. I also figured out that we've spent $250 on medications in the last 30 days. Wow! I wanted to see what $250 of medication looks like, so I gathered it all up. My daughter and I have either consumed or are in the process of consuming all of these things. Somehow my husband has been spared from any viruses. Figures.


Today has been a rainy day. It didn't dampen my daughter's spirits or stop her from donning her rain boots and stomping around in any puddles she could find. She's feeling a bit better after all of this medical intervention, but she's still not back to normal. Did I forget to mention that it was a double ear infection this time? It has been unreal. When it rains, it pours. I guess today we can also take that expression literally.

I have entered the two week waiting time. We decided to do a sixth cycle. Now I will start to obsess over physical symptoms and wish that I could stay in bed. I realize that this is all irrational of course, but I can't help it. Being rational isn't easy for someone who feels profoundly broken. My body needs all the help I can give it! We are set on holding off after this. I know I've said that before, but it's true this time. I require a break.

As I wait to find out if we've had success this time, I find some fears creeping in again too. When you've dealt with the loss of a baby, you no longer imagine getting pregnant as a joyous occasion. Fear is the most prominent emotion. What if we have another loss? What if something goes wrong? It's easy to feel like it won't happen to you until it does. If the odds are 1 in 20,000, most people feel pretty secure, but I remember that someone has to be the "1." It could be me. My only comfort comes from knowing that I survived. I can survive a lot more than I think. If I had been unwilling to roll the dice again, I never would have had my daughter. I can't play life from a position of fear. I refuse to do that. Here we go again!

Another Sign

I'm feeling slightly better after 24 hours of antibiotics, so I figured I'd share my other experience with signs as promised. I'm fighting with blogger to get my photos and text to format the way I want. I'm just going to have to give up and accept it as it is. You can still follow me, right? Good.

As I said in my last post, I now believe in signs. For example, if I am speeding and then pass a cop without getting pulled over, I look at it as a sign. I should slow down. This was my free pass. The next time I won't be so lucky. I try to pay attention.

After we lost Noah we were understandably frustrated with our struggles. After such a long battle with infertility, we had been given a peek into the excitement and promise of early pregnancy only to have it taken away. After we lost our little boy, my father-in-law purchased small pewter pins of a baby's footprint for us. He was also wearing one of these pins on his lapel. He told us that the pins were to be worn as a reminder of our little boy who will never be forgotten. It was very nice of him to think of us like that.



We started back into fertility treatments not long after Noah was gone, but we needed some encouragement. It was during this time that I noticed a large smudge on our bathroom mirror when it would steam up. I'm a clean person, but my house is not immaculate. I looked at the smudge for several weeks and didn't think anything of it until one day when my husband vocalized his awareness of said smudge. His assessment was that it looked like a baby's footprint. Sure enough when I took my next shower I did take notice of it's curious shape. While it wasn't a perfect footprint by any means, it did look quite similar to a foot with toes.

I cleaned the house a few days later and reminded myself to clean the mirror to wipe away our little footprint-shaped smudge, but the next time I took a shower, it reappeared. "Darn." I thought, "I missed it! I need to clean more thoroughly next time!" Several more attempts were made to clear the footprint from our mirror to no avail. I told my husband that it wouldn't go away, so we scrubbed it as hard as we could. No luck.


I commented to my husband that it might be some kind of encouragement from beyond. Believe what you want. Maybe I was reading into something because I needed hope. I'm ok with that. I think we need to find hope with any source we can - real or imagined. Regardless of it's true origin, I began to look at the footprint as an sign that the family we had imagined would become a reality if we would only keep faith. It was so curious to me that I actually attempted to document it in pictures. (By this time I was a firm believer in signs, and I knew it would be a good story in my future child's baby book.) I could even kind of line it up with my belly depending on where I was standing.

What became of my footprint? It hung around for quite some time, but it disappeared shortly after we discovered we had successfully conceived again. It was around long enough to keep me going. Was it a sign? To me it was. That's all that matters. Take a look at the pictures. Can you see my smudge? Does it look like a footprint?

Whenever I see the people on the news who claim to see Jesus in their toast I have to chuckle. It might sound crazy to some people, but if it gives hope to even one person, I can appreciate it.

Sick. Again.

April hit my family hard. We were sick. Then we were sick again. Looks like May is off to a rough start too. Now I'm sick. Again... or still. I'm not sure. I'm never sick. If I am, it's usually only a couple of days. This must be some kind of super bug.

I decided to post something quick to confirm that I'm not pregnant. We decided to do one more round of fertility treatment to make it an even six. I'm not sure how to pay for it, but I'll sort it out. This month we meet with a specialist to find out if there's anything more we can do. I'm anxious about it. I'm going to try not to think about it at this point.

I'm off to make some tea and cough myself to sleep. My planned blog about my other big "sign" will have to wait. Right now all signs are pointing me to my bed. I'm going to listen.

Signs

I've had a few experiences in my life where I believe I was given signs. I believe strongly that we are given direction once in awhile. I'm not sure if these are just odd coincidences or if God is intervening. Maybe it's all my imagination. Regardless, I'd like to think they are clues, and believing in them gives me hope. The hardest part is noticing them.

The biggest signs I've had are related to having kids. During my entire pregnancy with my angel boy, Noah, I had been dreaming that I was having a little girl. Some dreams were about her actual birth. In some she was an infant. Others included visions of a girl child. I was fairly certain I was having a girl. One day I was sitting at the table eating a bowl of alphabet soup and watching television. I wasn't paying much attention to my soup. With my eyes fixed on the tv, I would scoop into the bowl and eat each bite. When I started to get to the bottom of the bowl, it became more difficult for me to scoop up a bite without looking. I dipped into the bowl, and then took my first look down to see if I had gotten anything. When I looked down, I saw something remarkable. Strange. Funny. Lined up perfectly on my spoon along with some broth and a few stray vegetables was the word "BOY" written out in noodles. "Hmmm," I thought. "I guess it's a boy!" My soup was right! It revealed my baby's gender before any ultrasound could. Thanks, soup! Now you'll be paying attention the next time you eat alphabet soup, won't you?

It wasn't until my daughter was born that I looked back on the whole thing in an even more interesting way. During my pregnancy with Noah I was dreaming about a little girl constantly. That little girl of my dreams was in my future. My dreams were right too.

Coincidence or not, I find the whole thing so interesting. My experience with signs doesn't end there. Next post, another story.

I'm ready to get to bed. I never get enough sleep! Oh, and nothing certain on the baby news, but I'm pretty sure we've been unsuccessful this cycle. I'm feeling some cramps. Shoot. Goodnight!

The Wait

I'm now at the end of the waiting time. It's a dreadful period of time us infertile people refer to as "the two week wait." The next 48 hours or so should reveal our success or failure.

I was thinking today about how frustrating the two week wait can be, but I realized that this 48 hours is truly the hardest part. This is the time when hope dies. I start to get cramps, and I tell myself it's just a stomach ache. Denial is heightened. I'm constantly telling myself that the decision has already been made. I can't do or undo anything anymore. No matter how much I'm trying to bargain with God, His will be done. I'm just waiting to find out where His path leads next. My focus is being patient and accepting any outcome.

I'm happy to have a busy little toddler to keep me busy. She has been enjoying her dance class, speaking long strings of sentences quite clearly, singing, scarfing down egg salad sandwiches, "cooking" in her play kitchen, and playing the games I got her at a thrift store last weekend. I was amazed to find that the games I got were in great shape and included all of the pieces. That never happens! At least I'm lucky in some part of my life!

My last 48 are ticking by. Let's see what God has in store.

Not Me Monday!

I'm going to join in with Mckmama for the first time today on her Not Me Monday post so I can confess to my parental hiccups of late!

I most certainly did not allow my child to watch 3 full length movies in one day because I was sick and I didn't want to do anything. I also definitely did not feed my child peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for 3 seperate meals last week for the same reason. I would never be so lazy that I would wear the same sweat pants all week without finding the time to do my laundry. Definitely not me! I would never stand in the shower for 15 minutes while my husband is wrangling a toddler all alone just so I could get a little bit of quiet time. I'm a perfect parent and a tremendous partner. I would never do that!

What are your parental confessions today? Want to join in?
This blog carnival was created by MckMama. You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week.

It's just another day...

My daughter has somehow managed to be sick again, and this time she took me down with her! It has been really difficult to juggle work life, home life, and cyber life lately. All of the viruses making their way around our house have kept me down for the count. In fact, what am I doing up right now? We are currently back in the waiting time and hoping for good news. It will be another week or so before we find out if our latest treatment has resulted in a pregnancy. So far I've been able to keep my mind off the topic most of the time, but it creeps in once in awhile. I have absolutely no plan for the next cycle yet. Whether I like it or not, it might be necessary for a financial break. We'll see...

In the meantime, I have a quick recipe to share. We were inspired to make it recently, and I realized that it is a good recipe for the beginning of baseball season. If you care about that stuff. I know I don't. I have a strong dislike for athletics, but I like to eat! This one isn't the healthiest, but it is really yummy! This recipe isn't even an exact science, so feel free to tweak it!

Chili Dog Hotdish

Ingredients:

1 bag hotdog buns (6?)

1 package of vegetarian hotdogs

2 cans of vegetarian chili

onion

mustard

cheese

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Grease a 13x9 baking dish. Break up hotdog buns evenly on the bottom. Then cut hotdogs into quarters lengthwise. Cut them again into 3-5 pieces. Does that make sense? Then sprinkle them evenly over the buns. It should look like this:

.

Pour the 2 cans of vegetarian chili over the top and spread to cover. Chop onion and sprinkle over the chili. Use as much as you like! Drizzle some mustard around on the top. It helps at this point to have an adorable helper!
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Then just cover with some shredded cheese.

Bake for about 20 minutes or until it is bubbly and the cheese is melted. It should smell wonderful and look like this:

. Enjoy! This reheats well too. We normally have leftovers for a few days. My daughter can help a lot with this since it's so easy, and she tends to eat it more willingly when she has helped. It's also easier when she knows what's in it, and this recipe qualifies. "Remember? It's just bread, hotdogs, beans, mustard and cheese. Those are all things you like!" (Notice there is no mention of onion here. That isn't on the list of foods she's on board with yet! However, mustard is one of her favorite things, so it's usually a big selling point.)

Family Updates

Everyone is healthy now, so things have settled down a bit. We had a crabby kid during Easter weekend. I guess ear infections and antibiotics aren't exactly a recipe for happiness. We did manage to have some fun. My daughter colored eggs for the first time, and she did end up enjoying it. We used a tip I found in a magazine and put the eggs in a wisk to make it easier for her to dip them. It worked nicely for her, and helped keep the mess to a minimum.

She put the stickers on when we were done. She decided this cat needed a bow so she put one on its head. The annoyed expression on the cat's face made me laugh. Isn't that exactly what a cat would look like if you put a bow on its head?

With Easter over, it was back to fertility treatments. The doctors aren't ready to give up on me yet, but I'm not sure if I'm ready to give up on myself. They want to run a few tests to make extra sure that nothing has changed with me since giving birth the last time. One of them has already been done, and everything came back normal as I suspected. Insurance said they'd cover it, but there's no guarantee. I don't like this waiting around for bills to arrive. They have been trickling in. $250 here, $350 there. It all adds up.

Just this week I made my trip to the pharmacy for my $100 shot, and proceeded to inject myself with my crying toddler locked outside the bathroom door. I thought better of letting her run in and out while I tried to clean the area and insert a needle. It's not just a toddler-friendly activity! She was utterly heartbroken to be shut out. "Just a minute! Mommy just needs to go potty! I'll be right out!" My daughter's evening is full of dramatic moments, so she does seem to bounce back quickly. A little string cheese and we went from emotionally scarred and writhing on the floor to calm and happy in just a few minutes.

I've been asking myself often where to draw the line. We have been attempting to have baby #2 for about 7-8 months now. At what point does my desire to expand the family start to become a selfish act? I certainly feel more stress when I'm going through all of this. The medications are harsh. They leave me feeling bloated, moody, and just plain sick sometimes. Appointments take time away from my family. Money spent from our limited resources disappears with nothing to show for it while my daughter's college fund doesn't grow. I ask myself what is driving me. Another child would certainly enrich our lives in many ways, but I'm not willing to chase it indefinitely. I haven't yet decided where the road ends, but I feel it's something I might need to confront. When I didn't have any kids, I never even thought about giving up - even after years without success. Now that I have an answered prayer in my daughter, I am more willing to accept my blessings and trust God's plan. I guess time will tell.

In the meatime, I have lots to keep my busy. I intend to focus on that.

Muffins and Snufflin'

I hope to write a little more about Easter and family activities soon. It has been awhile since I've had time to write! My family has been battling some nasty bugs, so we've been too busy wiping noses and dosing medications to do much of anything else. We were at Urgent Care on Saturday afternoon when a morning of errands turned into a lunch time scream session. Turns out it was a sudden start to a nasty ear infection. I snapped a picture of our kitchen counter when I realized that it perfectly summed up our weekend.

In the meantime, I will share a recipe. It's a favorite of mine lately. I've found myself making a batch of muffins every week, and then grabbing them for a quick breakfast. These are fairly low fat and healthy. They also taste amazing.

Low Fat Banana Muffins:

Ingredients:
3/4 Cup white flour
3/4 Cup whole wheat flour
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp sea salt (optional)
3 large bananas, mashed
1/2 Cup sugar (I use organic cane sugar.)
1 egg
1/3 Cup unsweetened apple sauce

Directions:
- Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
- Coat muffin pan with non-stick spray or use paper liners.
- Mix together white and whole wheat flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Set aside.
- Combine mashed bananas, sugar, egg, and applesauce in a large bowl.
- Fold in flour mixture and mix until smooth.
- Scoop into muffin pan (each at 3/4 full)
- Bake in preheated oven. Mini muffins for 10-15 minutes. Standard or large muffins for 25-30 minutes. Muffins are done when slighly brown. They should spring back when lightly touched.

Yum! I find that recipes with banana are hard to screw up. They tend to rise well, and they turn out very moist. I also have a tendency to overmix, and I haven't had a problem with that yet when using this recipe. You can also throw in some cinnamon for added flavor. A little sprinkle of ground flax seed never hurts either if you want extra fiber and some Omega 3's. Enjoy!

T.V. Theology

I try really hard to refrain from judging people, so I enter into this blog cautiously. I was watching an episode of 19 Kids and Counting the other night... it's 19, right? I can't keep track. It might as well be 50 now. See? There I go judging. Well, the Duggar family can get under my skin once in awhile, and I can't help but share some thoughts here.

For those who aren't familiar with this tv show, it features a very large family. As I understand it, they are conservative Baptists who believe in a movement called "Quiverfull." I hope I'm not confusing this since I don't know much about it. Apparently this movement is just as it sounds. These people believe in having as many kids as they are given by God, thus a "full quiver." I guess you could say it's the opposite of my belief in that area. Yes, I know that my "quiver" wouldn't be very full if I let God alone control it, but you know what I mean!

Something struck me about the episode I watched the other night. From what I've heard, Jim Bob and Michelle Duggar started out much the same as many married couples. They used birth control pills for awhile until they were ready to start a family. When the time was right, they decided to try to conceive. They were successful, but lost the baby to miscarriage fairly early on in the pregnancy. Here's where we go in a bad direction for me. They believed that they were essentially being punished for their use of birth control, and vowed to never again prevent pregnancy. Put the brakes on here! That is flawed logic for me. Maybe I take is so personally because I have also lost a baby, and it's impossible for me to imagine a God that would punish me for anything. I just don't believe in that sort of God. I don't imagine that God causes harm in my life as punishment. I'm not sure I could believe in religion if that's how it worked.

The episode I watched was about their latest baby. Number 19 I believe? Mom and baby were very sick halfway through the pregnancy. They were admitted to the hospital. If we are following their logic, at this point in their lives, shouldn't they be asking themselves what their God was punishing them for this time? Were they not pious enough? I never saw them asking themselves this question. So, their decision to have unlimited children was born (sorry!) out of their belief that they were being punished by God for their use of birth control, yet that logic doesn't seem to have followed them through life. If they no longer believe that, then can't they stop having kids now? I don't get it.

Yes, I was watching the show and I do have the choice to turn it off if I want. I'll admit that I have watched it many times. Different kinds of people fascinate me. Finding out about how others live is interesting to me, but it does sometimes get me a little riled up! I lost a baby, and I refuse to look at it as an event God caused to punish me for something. Thanks God for having my back! I choose to believe more in the idea that bad things just happen. The way we can stay right with God is to let our faith carry us through.

Before I sign off for the night, I wanted to update about a few previous posts. My husband and I did enjoy our evening out not long ago. We successfully escaped, and had a wonderful night of food, friends, and music. My daughter and I have also been enjoying dance class. It has been a good opportunity for her to learn about following directions and taking turns. She was instantly won over when we heard "You've Got A Friend In Me" from Toy Story 2 during class. It has been going well ever since!

Food, Baby!

I am a big nutrition buff. Being a vegetarian for so many years has turned me into a label reader. When I started to read more labels, I started to find out more about nasty little food additives and nutrition as a whole. Now that I'm the parent of a toddler, I find myself looking for even more creative ways to make the foods we eat more healthy and nutrient-rich.

Since I'm fairly well versed in these topics, I have become a resource for many of the people I know. When someone realizes that they have a gluten allergy, they talk to me about it. When people are curious about why I eat so differently, we engage in detailed discussions of vegetarian foods and the impact they have on health and environment. When people have kids with sensitive stomachs, they ask me if I know what would help.

In the course of these many conversations, I have realized that there is one little thing I do that doesn't always occur to people. I assumed that many people do the same thing, but based on the feedback I've gotten from those around me, I might be wrong. I will share here, and I'm curious if anyone else does this too!

We eat baby food. Yup. That's it. My husband and I eat it. My daughter still eats it. I try to throw it into anything I can. I can't take credit for the idea of using veggie puree in meals. Jessica Seinfeld wrote a cookbook on the topic. I always hoped to purchase it, but I haven't yet. I think I saw her talking about it on Oprah, and the only problem I had with her plan was that it involved making large batches of veggie puree on the weekend and planning ahead for the week's meals. I just don't have that kind of time. I made my daughter's baby food when she was little. Now that she's older, I want a break! Conveniently, organic baby food is easy to find. It's probably more expensive than doing it yourself, but I still find it fairly affordable and simple. That's worth a lot to me.

Here are a few of the ways I use it:

-squash or sweet potato in applesauce. Put some cinnamon in it and you'll never taste it.

-Carrots in spaghetti sauce

-squash, mixed veggies, or sweet potato in enchiladas. Just mix it with the rice/beans/spices inside the tortilla, pour on sauce and sprinkle a bit of cheese. It blends nicely.

-any kind of veggies in chili

-any kind of veggies spread onto pizza crust under the sauce and cheese (although I find that carrots are less likely to be detected!)

-carrots in tomato soup

-small amount of squash in scrambled eggs

I realize that one jar of babyfood in a batch of sauce doesn't elimate the need for fresh veggies on the side, but I think every little bit of nutrition helps - especially when you have a toddler. My daughter doesn't always finish her veggies, so it's a good way to complete the serving. I also find that she gags easily when she has a stuffy nose, so we try to feed her soft foods and avoid things like peas that can set her off. Adding a little bit of baby food helps her get more veggies during those times.

Eat your baby food! Does anyone else do this? If so, how do you work it into your recipes? If not, try it and let me know what you think!

Tiny Dancer

I always had visions of putting my daughter in a dance class or two. I took dance as a young kid, and it might be the only time I've ever enjoyed doing something slightly athletic in my life. I have always been painfully uncoordinated when it comes to team sports. I think it's just the pressure involved. The ball is coming your way. All eyes are on the ball, so all eyes are now on you. You drop it, and you hear collective groans from your peers. Trying to fit in was hard enough without my fumbles and fouls in gym class making me blush. Dance allowed me to do something physical without having to worry about winning or disappointing anyone. It also involved music which is one of my great loves.

These tiny ballet shoes are a sweet little bargain I got at a thrift store.


The funny thing is that I found these shoes when my daughter was just an infant. Having a child with feet large enough for these was a distant thought in those days. Still, I couldn't help putting the two dollar shoes in my cart with a dream of seeing a tiny ballerina wear them.

I was cleaning out the closet last weekend to make way for my daughter's spring wardrobe when I found the ballet shoes. They fit perfectly. I can't believe how fast she has grown. Coincidentally I found myself at that same thrift store the next day looking for pieces to complete said spring wardrobe when I came across a little leotard and tutu. One dollar and 69 cents later they were in the bag. Pink leg warmers and black knit tights from Christmas were already hanging around our house, so we had no trouble completing the ensemble.

The next day I thought about what a shame it would be to waste a perfectly good dance outfit. With a little searching I was able to find us a dance class in a neighboring town. She loves her new outfit and can't wait to go to class. I'm interested to see if she continues to enjoy it once we do it for a few weeks. I don't expect her to like everything that I like, so she'll have the freedom to decide. I'm just excited for her to try something new. I'm also excited that I get to dress her up in cute, thrifty clothes! My husband jokes that since I can't claim to be talented at any sports, thrift shopping is my sport. I think he might be right.

Adventures in Babysitting

I had to face an interesting part of myself this week. We realized that we should get out more, so we decided to find ourselves a babysitter. This will be our second time out since last August. It's amazing how little time we have together when I think about it!

We started to think about who we could line up for this task. It's ideal to have our daughter at home. Her toys are here. Her bed is here. Our house is toddler-friendly. It's just easier. The only problem with this is that most of the suitable sitters we know have their own kids, and it's easier for them to be at their houses too. We decided to rule out friends with kids this time. The length of time we'll be out and the time of day will make it too hard to bother our friends who have kids for this outing.

Then we started looking at our friends who don't have kids as an alternative. My husband immediately offered up a male friend of his as an option. This is a gentleman we've known for quite a long time. My husband knows him much better than I do, but I am familiar with him. Everything I know about him is positive. He was free at the time we needed him. But then... something started to creep into my mind.

I'll admit to several things at this point. I'm a worrier. I clearly don't leave my child often, so I probably lack normal comfort level about it. I'm overly analytical. I'm overprotective. I'm a control freak. I'm realizing that these things are obstacles to a successful date night!

The little things that started to creep into my mind were all stereotypes about gender. This is a single guy. I've never seen him with a love interest. I've never seen him around kids. I can't picture him taking my child to the potty and wiping her butt. Yup, that's what I immediately thought. I kind of surprised myself! I see myself as an open person, but maybe I'm not as open as I thought!

I started to think about where my apprehension was coming from. I wanted to figure out the factors that affected my comfort level about a person. Yes, how much I know the person is number one. I'm also pretty comfortable if I know firsthand that the person has had a ton of experience with kids. After that, I realized that I might be more comfortable with a couple. I'd also be more comfortable with a married man, a gay man, a single girl... just about anything other than a single, straight man. I think I would also be more comfortable if my child was a boy. I've never had to face my bias before, and I'm not sure I like it.

At the same time, I don't want to ignore my motherly instinct. Since I've never really faced these feelings before, I'm not sure how to sort them all out in my mind. In the meantime I'm going to have to trust my instincts if I want to go out with my husband and have a good night. While he trusts this person implicitly, I just don't know what his experience is with children. While he's been around my daughter before and she loved him, I just wasn't quite ready to leave her in his care. I don't even know why. I just know I'm apprehensive. Maybe I'll get over it, but I'm not there yet. In the end, we decided to have my husband's parents come to our house to watch her. While we aren't close at this point so we don't often see them, I trust them. Now I'm much more relaxed now and looking forward to a date! My choice of restaurant doesn't seem to be in the cards though. They were completely booked with reservations, so we decided to show up looking pathetic and hungry and hope we can get a table within an hour or so. We'll see how it works.

Has anyone else ever had to face their gender stereotypes? Was it in a childcare situation? What did you do? Have your opinions changed over time? Just curious.

Aside from our planned escape, we've been busy with another round of fertility treatments. I actually had to inject myself tonight. (Gulp) I did it! It's wasn't that bad! I was so nervous and fixated on being able to do the injection, that I forgot to swab my skin with alcohol beforehand. If my leg turns black and falls off, I'll let you know! We are facing the doctor next week to figure out our plan from here. We can't really afford IVF or adoption, so we'll have to see if there is still hope for us within our current treatments. I'm hoping the meeting will all be in vain. Maybe this will work. Soon I will be facing the long 2 week wait to find out if we've had any success this time. It's something I'll never get used to.

I know that we're overdue for some pictures and maybe a recipe. Has it really been 2 weeks since I've posted pictures? Thanks for those that have stuck with me. Pictures are forthcoming. I've got a few up my sleeve. All I know is that I'm going out with my husband. Everything else will have to get in line this week!

Fear

I'm afraid of a lot of things. I'm afraid I won't be able to have another child, but I'm also afraid I will. I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to pay for two children. I'm afraid I won't have enough money when I want to retire. I'm afraid I'm not a good mom. I'm afraid I'll never find a way to combine my passions with my career. I'm afraid I'll forget who I really am. I'm afraid my husband won't love me someday. I'm afraid of aging. I'm afraid of getting cancer. I'm afraid of having regrets. I'm afraid of the evil in the world.

I'm afraid of so many things. I could go on forever. I wonder why I am consumed by these fears. I think many people feel the same way. As I look at the list of fears I listed above, I realize that most of these fears aren't based in reality. I'm anticipating things that haven't happened yet. These things may never happen.

I tend to make every decision in my life much bigger than it is. I haven't gotten pregnant yet. It's not yet time to worry about whether it will ever work. I just need to worry about doing my best to be healthy now. I will worry about the bigger issue when and if I ever have to face it. Until then, I can't think about it. I can't let myself be stressed because I'm anticipating future events. I need to enjoy today, take steps to prevent my fears from coming true, and let go of my worry and fear.

What are you afraid of? Is it based on your current situation or on anticipated future events that may not even happen? Do those worries affect your current happiness?

The Plan

I was at the doctor today to find out what fate decided for us. It looks like we are clear to begin again, so we decided to proceed. I also had to face a conversation about where to go from here. I had to schedule a visit to discuss what our options would be for the coming months. We have to face the fact that this isn't working so far. I think I took for granted that since this worked like a charm with my daughter, it would do the same again. On paper everything has looked exactly as it did when we had success, but we are older now. It might not work. It always amazes me how many things have to be exactly right to create life. It's mind boggling. We just may never be able to make the stars align again. I accept that. I often don't know what's best for me. I'd rather ride along and let life take me where it's going. Right now all I can do is hope for this coming cycle.

Disappointment

I found out that I'm not pregnant. It's funny, I spent the previous two cycles being scared and worried about the prospect of a baby. I also never felt like it had worked. This cycle was different. I was sure it worked. I could picture that baby. I was emotionally and mentally invested. I was ready. Of course those aren't the elements in one's life that make a baby. If they were, teenagers would never get pregnant!

We had intended to sit out this next round of treatment, but I struggled with that decision all day. Do I take a month off, enjoy myself, drink some wine, relax, and recover financially? If I do that, it's possible that the time off the medications would throw off my system and I'd require a few months to ready myself again when I try to get back into it. Part of me wants a break, but part of me wants to keep at it. I didn't want my kids to be this far apart in age, but I'm reminded again that my plan isn't the plan. I may not even be able to have anymore children. Only time will tell.

The decision we made was to proceed with my first ultrasound to see where we stand. It was actually a kind of non-decision on my part. I'm famous for letting fate answer the question. If things aren't ideal when the doctor take her first look tomorrow, we'll sit it out. If things look great, we are going to go for it - Christmas due date and all. My husband reminds me that we don't have the luxury of planning out a due date. We take what we can get. Ok, fate. Step in and lead the way. I will follow.

It has been a rough couple of weeks around here. Now I sit in peace on my couch. I'm watching The Jazz Singer from 1927, and Al Jolson is singing to me about "nothing but blue skies from now on." Little did people know then that the Great Depression was just a mere 2 years away. I hope life doesn't imitate art. I still believe in blue skies and blue birds singing. I just hope I'm not looking back in just a short time and feeling naive about it. I believe everything will work out. I have to believe. It's the only way I survive.

I will update when I find out what direction we are taking. Until then, goodnight!

Fertility-Challenged Women

Fertility-Challenged. We all need a politically correct label these days, right?

I've been consumed with baby thoughts recently, and it occurred to me that there is a shared experience among women with fertility issues that other women don't understand. Somehow I have managed to find many women struggling with the same issues I have. We talk a lot about it, and offer any support we can. Through these conversations, I've found that we're all the same when it comes to the stresses we endure each cycle. I wanted to share a few things here so my annoyingly fertile counterparts can get a peek into the neurotic brain of a woman struggling to have kids. Here are 5 things you might not know about women with infertility:

1.) While around 30% of women actually experience implantation bleeding, 100% of infertile women believe they are experiencing it. For every woman that is hoping for good news, the very start of a period is always believed to be implantation bleeding for a short period of time. A period sends us running to the calendar so see if everything is within the right time for implantation. We don't want to believe that it's over. While many women have probably never thought of this phenomenon, every woman in my shoes hopes that there is some explanation that would allow us to be pregnant even when we know we've hit the end.

2.) We believe we are having pregnancy symptoms all the time. Many women don't realize that they are pregnant until they miss a period. The thought may not cross their mind. However, every woman struggling through infertility has googled pregnancy symptoms multiple times every month. Literally every month. I'm constantly thinking that I may feel something and wondering if it could mean that I've conceived. If my stomach growls, I'm instantly aware and trying to turn it into some kind of sign. It's enough to drive a person insane!

3.) I'm going to let out my (our) dirty little secret here. We dislike fertile people and their families sometimes. While normal women may love visiting friends in the hospital after a birth or attending a baby shower, we have secretly hated you and your kids at least once. Now don't take it personally. We really do love you. We just can't help but resent other people's fertility once in awhile and it makes life hard. I've felt this way once in awhile about people I truly love. Then I've felt guilty for feeling that way which makes the whole thing worse. I wonder if that feeling ever really goes away. I can definitely say it fades, but I can admit to having this feeling recently when my dear sister-in-law announced her second pregnancy. I could feel the jealousy welling up, and I was just a little mad at her. But I love her. It's a strange emotion at a time of such happiness.

4.) Here's where the fertile women we hate are vindicated. Don't worry. We hate ourselves some of the time too. Not being able to have children very easily (or not at all) figures heavily into a woman's self esteem. I imagine it resembles the experience of a mastectomy. While it's not externally visible (or a cancer concern), it makes us feel like less of a woman. Less of a wife. Less human. It's very hard to feel "broken," and then try to reconcile it with a positive feeling about who you are and what you can accomplish. I think that women can be very hard on themselves in general, and this just gives us one more thing to beat ourselves up about.

5.) We have peed on a stick more times than a forest animal. We fight with ourselves every time. After paying for fertility treatments, why pay for tests too? They're not cheap! Then again, we feel that if we're obsessed, maybe it's worth the money to get an answer. But wait - if I take a test, will I believe the result? If it's negative, I will wonder if it's just too early in the cycle to show up on a test. If it's positive, I'll wonder if the HCG shot I took a few days/weeks ago is throwing it off. We can't win! Well, maybe we could if we bought stock in a company that makes pregnancy tests!

Going through this a second time has brought back all of these things that I'd hoped to forget about after having my daughter. I hate to keep saying this, but feeling these things has reminded me to be thankful for her. Many of my friends don't yet have kids, and I would be doing wrong by them if I didn't appreciate what I have. While I want another child, I may find that I'm never able to have another. That is sad, but it's ok. When I was bargaining with God before I ever had any kids, I begged for just one. God delivered, and I will too. If my family is complete, I will be happy.

Tonight my only update is that I've felt like the end of this cycle has been coming. I've felt all of the signs and symptoms that it's over, but I still have no definite answers. I'm waiting as patiently as I can. I'm hanging on to hope, but I'm preparing for bad news. The answer will be revealed no later than Monday. I will update when I know. I will put the timing in God's hands. In His infinite wisdom, my family will be built exactly as it should. I will watch as my life takes shape, and I will be happy.

Saturday

I'm sad to say that the job changes we anticipated for my husband didn't come to pass. I'm not happy about it, but I do believe that there is a plan for us. I just wish we knew what it was at this point! We are still awaiting possible baby news. Tom Petty had it right when he sang: "The waiting is the hardest part." I should have my answer some time between now and Monday. Again, I trust that it will unfold as it should.

I snapped a few pictures on Saturday and so did my husband. I figured I'd step out from behind the lens just a little this time. I normally handle the camera duties full time around here, but once in awhile I think I'd like to look back and remember that I was there while my daughter was growing up! He didn't do too bad this time.

Oh, how I love Saturdays! We colored a bit.

Did you know that sticking your tongue out helps? Do I have a lefty?

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Then a grandma and a firefighter went crusing. I'm not sure why. Maybe the firefighter volunteers to help grandma do her shopping? All I know is that grandma needs to keep her eyes on the road. Er... the van has eyes so maybe it's ok. Hmmm. I realize that analyzing Little People isn't my strength. Moving on...

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(Don't look at the dust stuck to the wheels. Oh no, now you're looking aren't you? And you didn't even notice it until I said something, right? Ooops!)

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We even sat in the sun (with Dora) which is a rarity in this corner of the world. (Wait... sitting with Dora isn't a rarity at all. She's everywhere in my house. It's the sun! The sun is rarely seen here in the winter!) Is this a sign that spring will finally come? I can't wait!

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Don't let the pictures fool you. We have very little time together as a family. Most of our weekend time is spent doing child care in shifts while one or the other of us runs around like crazy getting groceries, starting loads of laundry, or cooking meals. Still, taking a few pictures reminds me of those rare moments when I can be with my family. I sure hope we can find more of those moments soon. Until then, we will enjoy what we have.

name that recipe!

I'm still stuck in the waiting game around here. It's impossible to keep my mind from wandering to pregnancy. I'm not feeling anything yet, but it's only been a week. Patience! We have also been waiting on edge for a possible change with my husband's job. It would be a wonderful change for our family, so we are hoping it works out.

In the meantime I'm going to share a recipe that we just tried out for the first time not long ago. It was very tasty. The problem is, that I'm not sure what to call it! Any ideas?

Italian Rice Patties?

Spinach and Rice Bake?

Fred?

Help me name this recipe!

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Oh, and I apologize ahead of time for the pictures. They were taken at night. That explains the lack of natural light. I also didn't haul off to retrieve my truly wonderful flash, so the I was stuck with the kitchen lights. They make the food look a bit, ummmm.... yellow. You know, like in cookbooks from the 60's and 70's? What was up with that? How could people ever find anything appetizing from the looks of those horrible pictures? Anway... I'll stop rambling now and make good on my promise. Here's a tasty recipe. That doesn't have a name. It's sad really. Just sayin'. I'm glad we could share this moment.

Ingredients:

- 2 tsp oil

- 1/2 Cup of chopped onion

- 2 cloves of garlic

- 1 box (10 oz) frozen leaf spinach - thawed and chopped (I used fresh since that's what I had on hand and it worked just fine)

- 2 1/4 Cups water

- 1 cup long grain rice (I used brown rice)

- 1/2 Cup grated parmasean cheese

- 1/4 tsp of pepper (I think I used a bit more. Pepper is yummy!)

- 1 large egg

- 2 oz of shredded mozzarella

- 2 cups spaghetti sauce (we used 1/2 a jar)

I'm a bit of a free spirit when it comes to recipes. I'll do my best here!

Heat the oil in your skillet. Saute your onion and garlic a bit.

Then add the spinach and water and bring it to a boil.

Stir in the rice. Cover and simmer for 20 minutes until the water is absorbed.

Heat the oven to 350 degrees and line a baking sheet with foil. Spray the foil with non-stick spray (so do I list non-stick cooking spray in my ingredients? I'm out of practice here!)

Transfer your rice mixture into a bowl and stir in the parmasean and pepper.

Then mix in the egg.

Scoop out the mixture and spoon onto the baking sheet. I made them approximately hamburger sized or maybe a bit smaller.

Flatten each scoop slightly with your spoon to help it look more like a patty. Like this:

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Bake for 20 minutes until they seem firm.

Then sprinkle on the mozzarella cheese and put it back into the oven until it melts.

Serve with spaghetti sauce on top like in the picture or you can adapt it for a toddler by cutting the patty into quarters or halves and providing the sauce for dipping. Yummy!

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Come on, baby!

Another month of fertility treatments is complete. Last week I had to ask my husband to give me the shot again. There is some kind of self preservation instinct that kicks in when it's time to give yourself a shot. It renders my arm frozen. My brain can't make my hand move, so my husband has to save the day. Seems he has no trouble stabbing me with that needle!
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Saturday was our big day. The nurse assured me that everything looked good, so it's now up to God and fate. Our life feels like it has been full of pills and shots (well, at least mine has. Not so much for him!), so we're hoping to put that behind us soon! If this month doesn't take, we'll be taking a month off. I figured the time to recover from the medical bills would be good. I'd also like to avoid a Christmas due date if I can help it, so we plan to hold off a bit after this. Two weeks always feels like an eternity, but that's how long we'll have to wait before we can find out of this worked. When I was pregnant with my daughter, I was gagging while brushing my teeth after about a week, so I'll be watching for little signs while trying not to drive myself nuts in the process!
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In the meantime, we'll have to talk about other things to distract me. Take a look at this picture...

Does it look good? I'm curious to find out if this looks like something other people would want to eat. It is something I started eating in college, and it is a favorite around here! Wheat toast, mayo, garlic & pepper seasoning, and cold spaghetti. Voila! Spaghetti sandwich! What a great way to use leftovers in a creative way! If anyone tries it, let me know what you think!

Dinner Conversation

A conversation from our table tonight:

Me: "Is that good peanut butter?"

Her: "Mmmm hmmm. (pause) It's not orange-y."

Me: "Nope, peanut butter isn't orange-y."

Her: "Oranges are."

Me: "Yes, sweetie. Oranges are orange-y."

I just love how kids' brains work!

Our Little Girl

Our toddler loves music. I'll admit that we haven't really given her a choice! We dance a little bit every day. When I turn on the Rolling Stones, she tells me that she would rather hear The Beatles. I can't really argue with that! She also makes up songs. When I ask her if she made them up, she corrects me. "No, that's John Wennon!"

Our toddler loves peanut butter. She likes to peel apart her PB&J, drag her fingers through the peanut butter, and lick them. (although her mommy doesn't really like that!) We even put peanut butter on her waffles. She likes to take the empty peanut butter jar she plays with and make hundreds of pretend peanut butter sandwiches.

Our toddler loves dolls. She calls them her "babies." She is constantly changing them, feeding them, wrapping them up, and pushing them around in the stroller. They are always either sleeping, crying, or going potty. Maybe she takes her cues from her own favorite activities! She insists that we dress her babies so she can proceed to undress them, and then beg us to dress them up again.

Our toddler loves drama. She loves to practice pouts, frowns, sighs, cries, and ignoring us. She is very sensitive and often erupts into unexpected and long bouts of crying. If our words are too stern, she melts into a puddle on the floor. She is very independent and seems to enjoy fighting with us. I know she is just asserting her independence and that's all part of growing up. It doesn't make it any easier though. Is it too early to worry about the teen years?

Our toddler is amazing. She is my miracle. It took me more than 2 years of trying to get her here, so I can't help but remember how truly thankful I am that she's here. She's the best... you know, at least we think so!