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.

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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.

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

Christa

Andie

LuckyOnce

Michele

Sue



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 ;)

evolution

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.

Master/Slave

This meme is stolen from some non-IF blogs I read (or lurk on. But whatever!)

Using only song names from ONE ARTIST, cleverly answer these questions. Try not to repeat a song title. It’s harder than you think.
YOUR ARTIST: Pearl Jam
Are you male or female: Daughter
Describe yourself: Alive
How do you feel about yourself: Nothingman
Describe where you currently live: State of Love and Trust
The first thing you think of when you wake up: Go
If you could go anywhere, where would you go: Oceans
Your favorite form of transportation: Footsteps
What is the weather like where you are at: Bugs
Your best friend is: Dirty Frank
Your favorite color is: Black
If your life were a TV show, what would it be called: Life Wasted
What is life to you: Given to Fly
What is the best advice you have to give: Do the Evolution
If you could change your name, what would it be: Glorified G
Your favorite food is: Stupid Mop
How I would like to die: Worldwide Suicide
My soul’s present condition: Spin the Black Circle
What are you going to post this as: Master/Slave
Now it is your turn—

drought

So, I've read that clomid can cause some vaginal dryness. Apparently, I get to experience that lovely little side effect. Seriously, it's like the fucking sahara down there.

I keep expecting to see tumbleweeds blowing through when I drop trousers to pee.

It makes that actual baby making act more than a little difficult. We've been muddling through. Thank god for pre-seed.

Other side effects: I've been a little more emotional lately (okay, I cried reading the front page of the newspaper today. And nothing was even really on it!) but no crazy mood swings or rages. I have been sweating a ton. A ton. Thankfully, I have a rather physical job, so it's not unusual for me to sweat, but this is borderline ridiculous.

I haven't ovulated yet, so I'm sure more fun side effects will pop up as this cycle continues.....

I broke up with my dentist yesterday

I used to like my dentist. I have bad teeth - although they look nice, it's a mere facade. I've paid for enough dental work in my life to send several dentist's children to community college. That said, I've spent some time in my dentist's office. Lately, though, I've had this weird phobia about going in for anything other than a cleaning. When my dentist suggested getting a crown on one of my upper left back teeth, I resisted - after all, the thought of the torture and shelling out the big bucks insurance doesn't cover seemed pretty premature when the tooth wasn't even bothering me.

Big mistake.

It started with a bit of a toothache Thursday night. I wasn't too alarmed, and ibuprofen took care of it. I woke up Friday with the worst. toothache. ever. Nothing took the edge off. It felt like there were little daggers digging into all of the teeth on the left side of my mouth. I went into work, broke into tears from the pain more than once (which is really really unlike me - I once fractured my pelvis and thought it was a muscle strain for two weeks. I went snowboarding and running on it!). My dentist couldn't see me until early Monday morning. I agreed to the appointment, but kept feeling worse and worse.

So I called the dentist's office, and stumbled upon an interesting fact: half of the dentists in Des Moines close at noon on Fridays. And its not as if they have weekend hours either. Great.

I left my dentist a message on his emergency line (cell phone) that I was in extreme pain and needed suggestions on how to deal. He did not call back.

So I said "Fuck it" and started calling around until I found 1. a dentist that was open and 2. a dentist that could see me and 3. a dentist accepting new patients and 4. a dentist who accepts our insurance.

Luckily I ended up in a great office. I'm pretty sure I'm going to switch to this doctor. It could have been really sketchy. Once, years ago in a similar dental emergency (when will I ever learn?), I ended up in the office of a man who worked alone. As in, no assistant, no receptionist, nothing. Just him, and his combover. Oh, and opera music blaring. He also eschewed high tech equipment, like x ray viewers and computers. Interestingly, the root canal he gave me hurt less than any other I've had.

So that brings me back to yesterday. I had an emergency root canal. My tooth was majorly infected. I'll have to spring for the crown, too. I could have just had it yanked, and saved a thousand bucks, but to me, having a full set of teeth (even if they are troublesome and rotten)? Priceless.

Oh, and remember how I mentioned that I'm bad with pills? Well, now I get to take antibiotics and pain meds too! Yay!