Tuesday, August 25, 2009


So, remember yesterday's post? About positivity, and the like? And the one before that, about money (or the lack thereof) getting in the way of our adoption plans?

My mom just sent me an email with my horoscope:

You could be celebrating in the very near future, Aquarius! If you've been waiting for a financial refund, extra cash or a return on an investment, then you're in luck because it could materialize over the next months. Be confident that life is headed in the right direction. Think positive. It's time to move forward in pursuit of your dreams and hopes.

Guess I should buy some lotto tickets or something!

Monday, August 24, 2009

The blessings of IF.....

I've been realizing lately - with the help of my wonderful Hubby - that I need to put some effort into having a positive outlook. It is just so easy for me, and I'm sure for others in the same/similar boat, to be dragged down into the deep dark by hopelessness and despair.

In my head, logically, I know that things will eventually work out, somehow, some way, for us. My impatience and frustration have been at the forefront for so long, so today, I'm going to change things up a little.

I saw this on another IF blog, and while I would love to give credit where it is due, I have completely forgotten (been doing a lot of reading lately!).

(I figure if I can put a positive spin on this, then I am well on my way to transforming from
Negative Nelly to Positive Polly).

1. I have so much empathy for anyone dealing with any sort of IF. Before all of this, I might have thought that anyone who puts so much on the line just to have a baby must be a little nutso. I know better now. Or maybe I'm just nutso myself?

2. IF has taught me empathy towards anyone dealing with loss, illness, struggle in general.One of the most frustrating things about being a "habitual aborter" (don't you just LOVE that term?) has been the lack of compassion from others who have not been there. I am sure this is true of people dealing with many other things. I always try to put myself in others' shoes(always with socks, of course!) and not judge. I had an interesting conversation several months ago with a friend who has Crohn's disease. She was involved in a fundraiser and had just sent out a mass email explaining how the disease has affected her life, which she said was a huge step
for her. It really struck me when she said "I normally don't talk about it, because I don't want people to define me by it." This is EXACTLY how I felt for years regarding RPL. And I know that this friend is such a wonderful person that no one would ever define her by her disease. Hopefully, the people that I've been opening up to feel the same way about me.

3. RPL is one of those things that can make or break a marriage. Because of it, my bondwith Hubby has been forged in steel (or whatever metal might be stronger than steel). I cherish him more than ever, now that we've been together through the most awful shit that's ever happened to either of us.

4. I've learned to open up to people, and to own my emotions. It's okay to cry (before this, though, I could never have imagined myself, in an ultrasound room, sobbing my eyes out while clutching the hands of my doctor and my husband, both of whom were crying as well). I've forged connections with people that never would have been in my life otherwise, and I've become a source of strength for others.

5. I've learned a very painful lesson about finances. Depression and grief are no excuse for letting your credit score take a nose dive, because this in turn can create more grief and depression. We make PLENTY of money. We could have saved for all of our adoption expenses, or at the very least, have had our bills paid on time so that our credit was good enough to get a short term loan. Hindsight is 20/20, right? At least we can look forward...

6. Last but not least, I've become a much healthier person in my quest to achieve
successful pregnancy. I eat a mostly organic, and mostly balanced diet. I exercise more. I drink less. I've even made great inroads into kicking the caffeine addiction - I'm down to ONE (albeit large) half-caff cup of coffee per day. This, from someone who used to routinely drink a pot of full-caff coffee before work, and then down a highly caffeinated energy drink in the afternoon. In short, I am much more careful about what I put in my body, and what I expose myself to.

Well, this list is about 6 items longer than I thought it'd be when I started working on it.

Drop me a comment - how has IF improved YOUR life?

Thursday, August 20, 2009

premature argumentation

**Warning: F-bombs ahead**

Thanks for all of the comments/advice on my last post, ladies. We actually did reach a compromise, as someone suggested, of me having ultimate veto power over any baby furniture decisions.

Looks like we argued too soon.

Our loan application was denied. Fuck. Options now are: 1. Take out a home equity line of credit (if we're even approved), which Hubby doesn't want to do because he doesn't want our house to be mortgaged to the hilt. 2. Beg for a loan from family members (not likely to happen - the Hubs has that whole male pride thing going on, and no one in my family has a pot to piss in, much less money to lend) or 3. Go the old fashioned way, and save up the half of the money we need to make this happen.

Option 3 sucks ass. Option 3 means MORE waiting, MORE time of my life being on hold. But it looks like Option 3, it'll be.

I definitely had a breakdown yesterday. It seems that every time I get excited/happy about something in relation to having a child, it gets snatched away. And of course, I feel tremendous guilt about the whole situation. You see, I've always handled the bills in our house. Hubby has neither the time nor the inclination to do so. Money stuff is not my strong point, though, and through these years of pregnancy/loss/frustration/depression, I let some things slip. Like making sure bills get paid on time (they always get paid though!). Apparently, our credit ratings have suffered greatly, and we're not a great credit risk.


Tuesday, August 18, 2009

story telling (and your opinion, please)

There was a little girl, many years ago, who lived in a home that never felt like a home, and had a family that wasn't like anyone else's. She escaped however she could - into books, into school work, to grandma's house - just to get through the days until she was big enough to get out.

This little girl loved babies and children and always spent time with any babies she could. She dreamed of running away and growing up and meeting her knight in shining armor, and being so deeply in love, and one day having babies and babies of her own, with her knight.

And she did grow up and run away and meet her knight, and he was everything she had ever dreamed of. And he loved babies too, and they planned to have lots and lots of them. But she felt uneasy, this girl, like the road to baby might be paved in heartbreak. And so, the knight and the girl decided that they would indeed try to have a baby, even though at that time they had very little money and lots and lots of debt.

The not-so-little-anymore girl dreamed of telling her knight that his baby was growing inside of her, and of growing a huge baby-filled belly, and of feeling their baby move and play inside that huge belly. She dreamed of nesting, and decorating a sweet-ass nursery, and getting her house ready for baby. She even dreamed of labor, and delivery, and had visions of a home water birth and nursing (no drugs for her!).

One morning, she got to tell the knight that his baby - their baby! - was growing inside of her belly. She had never been so happy, or more in love with her knight, who was also very, very happy.

But then, their baby, who was very much wanted and loved, died long before he was big enough to live. And so did the next baby, and the baby after that, and the baby after that, and even the next one and the one after that. And the girl and her knight were very, very sad for a long time.

One day they decided that their baby just wasn't meant to grow in her belly, and even though she was very sad, the girl knew that she wouldn't get to live her dreams. She let them go, and embraced a new dream, a dream of a baby that grew in someone else's belly.

But she couldn't let go of one little part of that dream - the nursery. She hung onto the vision of going into a shop and finding the perfect baby furniture and the perfect baby decor, sparing no expense.


Okay, if you haven't guessed by now, the girl is me. And the knight? Well, that would be Hubby. And we had a huge fucking stupid fight about the damned nursery this weekend. Basically, he thinks we should run the cheap route (since adoption is so costly) and take whatever hand me downs we can. Me? I can't let go of that last dream. I've let go of all the rest of the baby anticipation dreams. But this one thing, I want to experience like a so-called "normal" mom. I mean, we're going into debt to fund this adoption anyway, so what's a few extra c notes in the hole?

So, if you're still reading, please chime in with a comment. Am I a complete whiny idiot for insisting on furnishing the nursery with things of my own choosing? I promise I can take it if you think so....

ETA: The only furniture in our entire house that is NOT a hand me down (or a family antique, true) is our bedroom set. Said bedroom set came from Ikea, and was purchased 4 or so years ago (and parts of it are falling apart now). So it's not exactly as if I have designer/expensive taste in these things. I just want some control, I guess.

Sunday, August 9, 2009

choo choo

The adoption train has left the station. And we're on it!

We spent a total of 17 hours driving several states away to go to a 4 hour informational meeting at the agency we've chosen. It's the first step to getting registered with them. The meeting solidified our desire to adopt, and led to many interesting discussions between Hubby and I on the drive home about our fears, our hopes, and our desire to be parents. It was fantastic. We love the concept of open adoption, and are so proud and excited to have finally gotten started.

We also solidified a major decision for us: we will not pursue IVF, at least not unless our financial situation changes drastically. And that's unlikely to happen, because if - or rather, when! - we get chosen by a birthfamily, I will be staying home to be with baby.

Oh, and there's the cost of the adoption itself. Oh boy. It's within reach for us, sort of, when we scrape together everything we have, but we'll still have to get a loan from someone to cover the rest. We were going to ask Hubby's parents, but they're, well, awful (his mother, Mrs. Pro-life, flat out told us today that we are not really parents because our children never lived. I get that we're not REALLY parents, but how can a pro-lifer say our children never lived? But I digress), and we decided we cannot subject ourselves to that. We do have other family members that we can ask before we have to resort to a bank. We won't be able to ask for a couple of weeks, and it's killing me. I need to plan it all out now!

Another possible complication: I could be pregnant right now. I've been nauseous as hell lately (although I'm sure all of those hours in the car didn't help) and weepy as hell lately (which could be due to the clomid). Hubby and I discussed it though, and even if I am knocked up, we'll stay on the adoption train. Because if experience has taught us anything, it's that the chances of me staying knocked up are not good. Like morons, though, we're hopeful.

I'm only 7 dpo right now, so I've been repeating my mantra: I will not pee on sticks, I will not pee on sticks, I will not pee on sticks. Say it with me, ladies.

Jeez, a whole two posts from me in one day. Momentous.

one lovely blog: my 1st award (I'm blushing!)

Thanks to Jess at Baby Paramore for giving me my first award! The rules of the “One Lovely Blog Award” are: Accept the award, post it on your blog together with the name of the person who has granted the award, and his or her blog link. Pass the award to 15 other blogs that you’ve newly discovered. Remember to contact the bloggers to let them know they have been chosen for this award.

Okay, so here it goes:

Mama Fierce

Widow in the Middle






Okay, so that's not quite 15, but it's as good as I've got right now!

Thanks again, Jess. I feel like a real blogger now ;)

Monday, August 3, 2009


No, I'm not going to engage in the whole "did we crawl out of the ooze or did god snap his fingers and create us" debate (although I side with science on that one). I'm talking about a different kind of evolution here - the evolution from single woman to married woman to mother.

There are many aspects of my job that I love - the days when I get to play with puppies and kittens, and love on patients needing some tlc. The days when everything goes right and pet owners agree with recommended treatment plans and everyone goes home happy.

Then there are the awful awful days - euthanasias of beloved pets suck, as do people who neglect and/or abuse their pets, or refuse treatment because of cost (and then get into their shiny luxury cars to drive home). People who expect me to diagnose their animal over the phone, and then bitch me out when I tell them they need to come in for an exam, suck.

And then there are the days, like today, when I'm slapped in the face with the reality of my own non-evolution.

You see, somewhere in the woman-wife-mother evolution lies the jump into pet ownership. Perhaps it's just couples wanting to test the water and try out a pet before they try for baby. Maybe people have been waiting to get "settled" before they tackle pet ownership. But time after time, I see it. The single girl with a boyfriend and a dog announces the name change, the evolution into married woman. Months later, she comes in with her gloriously swollen belly, looking for advice on the seamless integration of baby into the family. More months later, and she comes in with kid and pet, looking exhausted but marvelling over how well the pet and baby get along.

I had one of those days today - a woman with a hugely pregnant belly and a sick cat. We've been seeing a lot of her lately, as they've been trying to get all of their furry charges updated and checked out before the new arrival wreaks havoc on their lives. Every time I see her, I see how she's grown. I picture her baby, safe and snuggled inside her, and wonder why I can't have that.

I realized, as I looked at her today, how stuck I really am. I want to evolve into a mother, I do. I'm ready for it. I was ready three years ago, when I took this job on a part time, temporary basis - you know, until I popped out a kid and quit to be a stay-at-home mom. It's turned into a full time, permanent for now job. And while I woke up today loving it and looking forward to the day, I left hating it. But really, I hate the road my life has turned down. I hate being stuck. I feel like a little kid, always looking toward the future, just wanting to get where I'm going.

Oh, and Wednesday would be my due date for cletus, the babe who lived in my tube. The only one of my brood to have actually developed, only in the wrong place. I cannot believe I just realized this now. And I get to have root canal part 3 that morning, instead of getting things ready for cletus.

I'm thinking there will be some wine consumed Wednesday, even if I have to suck it out of my shirt because I can't get my numb lips to work appropriately on a glass. To hell with Operation No Regrets.