Hurdles

While on one hand I have gotten the feedback that I seem happier (and thanks for asking - more upbeat) and I have taken the step to cancel my therapy appointment for Wednesday because really, I'm doing quite well, there is something else. I mentioned that the pills have been known to cause pregnancy symptoms and that they are. So, what do you do when these "pregnancy" symptoms (or, more likely PMS) are (cough) visible to one very hopeful spouse? What I told him was that I can handle my own disappointment, but it's a lot more difficult to handle his. I have developed coping mechanisms (hell if I know what they are) to somehow not continue being watery jello. He said that he would not be disappointed in me. I know this. We haven't been real big on "her fault/his fault" in this process. But he will be hurt whenever I have to pass along the news of "no, not this time." That is me causing him pain. I've been taught to be polite. I've been taught to apologize for things that are not my fault. In doing so, I've learned to internalize blame that isn't centered on me. Example: C has an aunt and uncle that don't have kids/they are second parents to C and brothers = I not only lost my parents and his parents a grandbaby, I lost them one too.

Even if this (by some wonderful and strange miracle) results in pregnancy for us, that isn't it. I can visualize it as merely the first hurdle in a long string of hurdles. I did track in 8th grade and I did the hurdles. I placed in the one meet that there was an event of the 300 meter hurdles. I needed the extra distance to bring it all out of me. All I remember is enjoying the leap over each hurdle and the moment a foot hit the ground, running as fast as I could to the next one. Can't live life that way, but I definitely see the hurdles. For us, pregnancy does not equal baby. For us, I still believe in a happy ending, but not without hurdles. I just can't look into the future to count how many there will be.

This Is How You Do It

Many things: How wonderful it is to hear not only one friend's voice this morning, but two! One reinforced the necessary measure of throwing out all intimate items (like socks!) instead of trying to donate them to charity. The other shared with me some great news and she did it as gently as possible - which I am entirely grateful for. And I get to see her in a little more than a month - how fun! Beware, I come with presents!

Listening to my good friend Yael Naim this morning while cleaning out all of my clothes and doing mountains of laundry. Don't believe me? You should!

Chaos, I know. But I'm happy because I'm wearing this:

AM will remember these hoodies from our first St. Patrick's Day together! The front says BELIEVE, by the way. Philip Pullman rocks. Besides, how can you be unhappy in kelly green and white - did I mention that it's a HOODIE?!

This is going to be the only thing left on the dining room table once I've gotten it all cleared off. Papers, clothing, and assorted objects have been collecting here for about four weeks!

And last, but not least, is the orangsicle library where the books have outgrown their shelves. I need to put all of my adult fiction somewhere (yes, it is alphabetized).

It used to go on this set of shelves that I designed and the wonderful Mr. C made. They were intended more for a small television or aquarium in the large upper part (notice the space and depth), so for books, there is a lot of dead space. Looks like I'll be stacking vertically.

Shelf next to the aquarium shelf is the second one I designed and is a much better bookshelf. Unfortunately, it already houses my teen/children fiction, along with all of my nonfiction (which is threatening to outgrow it also).

If we were to play "Where's Waldo" with these pictures, I would have you find a blow dart gun, a baby gate, an old picnic basket, six eggs, a Harley Davidson edition Ford F-150, and a copper tea kettle. Who will be the winner?

**As for me, I am doing surprisingly well during this waiting period. I see the doctor next week to see if the pills did what they were supposed to and if we try them again. I'm not sure if I hope that the pills worked or that I am pregnant. Knowing me, I think I'll hope that the pills worked. I had quite a few more side effects this time around (night sweats, hot flashes, and now assorted pregnancy symptoms - all to be expected), but still nothing to complain about. I feel calm because at least for this month, we did absolutely everything we could to ensure success and now there is just some waiting. While some people get stressed out by the waiting, and I have for sure, right now there's just a peace because until we start the cycle again, I can't actually do anything. It's out of my control. It's funny, even those I work with say that I seem a little less uptight. Here's to me staying this way!

Outing a New Soul

More and more, I am outing myself. I have lost something and I'm not ashamed of it and I am trying like hell to create life, which I am definitely not ashamed of. Adding you guys, my friends, my sanity, is another way of being tangible and connected. If you see it that way. I do.

In other news, I am obsessed with Yael Naim and her song New Soul. Thanks to Stirrup Queen for helping me find it because it is better than me just saying I love that Apple commercial song. She sings in other languages in a lilting way, which I'm figuring is so comforting to me. As I struggle through the last paper for class (yes, thank you for asking, this IS supposed to be my spring break!) I have listened to this song numerous times (by obsessive, I mean that I found her website, videos on you tube, and am currently coveting her teal dress in said video).

http://www.yaelweb.com/

What Do you Do With Something Like This?

The following is an e-mail from the past, composed on Thursday, March 15, 2007, and sent via FutureMe.org
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Dear FutureMe,

I hope you are well. I hope that you either are pregnant and calm, or are holding a little mini-C-A. I'm betting on a girl. If none of these things are true, I hope you found something else to make you happy. By now, I hope you are settled in [town we moved to] and you've accomplished some of those projects on the house. Hopefully, you've made lots of friends and figured out a way to stay home - either with the baby or in anticipation of one. I hope you are well because right now I want to cry and I want to be the 15+ weeks pregnant I should be and I'm hoping C will continue putting up with me because I alternate between being a mess and composed.

I hope you started that business and are making some money - it sucks to give into fear of the unknown. I hope you've started your book and are looking for agents and/or publishers. I hope you've taken some time for a girls weekend with M and E - if you haven't, plan one today. I hope you've stuck to your guns and paid a lot of things off so that you can afford that girls weekend.

I hope you think of B [mc'd baby's name] every once in a while and thank God that he allowed you to carry him for a brief time. I hope you are loving your sister as much as you ever have and are being her rock when she needs it. I hope you are still being the true friend you've always been and are opening up a bit to new people despite your fears. I hope you are well. I hope you are happy. I hope you are closer to being fulfilled. I hope you are in love with C and I hope you've begun to love yourself. Take care of the family, the babies, the dogs, and your friends and you will be fine. I hope you are well.

Love, the hurting, struggling me,
Anne*

Interjection into Space and Time

The little white pills are causing hot flashes and possibly insomnia, but that could be a bad reaction to the time change. I'm considering moving to one of those places where the time doesn't change. Yes, I think that is a good reason. Anyway, we're back in the battle for baby in full force with pills, lab work, and the ever pleasant doctor consultation. The doctor's office also mentioned that they only hand out little white pills three times before they get rid of you and, you know, take you out back and shoot you (or they could have said that they then refer to a specialist, whatever). I'd rather not be shot.

Therapy went well as we talked about me being a planner and a control freak and having absolutely no de-stressing method. I'm working on that. I need to live in the here and now a little more too. I mentioned to the therapy girl that I was done talking about the miscarriage because I gave that baby a year, an entire year of mourning, and no one, including myself could ask for more than that. No one ever asked me to do that, so I blame it on reading too many books and my subconscious deciding that losing a child is one prescribed year of mourning. Only I wear brightly colored too big clothing instead of black dresses (I'm thinking of wearing a black dress today though). Anyway, I feel that we need to be forward-looking, while living in the very real now, I guess.

It is so 7am, which is early for me. I was up at 5:30a because I couldn't sleep after I woke C up, so (the loving wife that I am) I made him breakfast. DARN! That was a perfect opportunity to wear an apron! Maybe I should wear a dress and an apron today. With wellies. I need a pair of wellies and more ginormous belts. Really. Need. I told you what time it was so that everyone understands that this is pouring straight from the sleeplessly addled mind. Looking forward to a fabulous weekend . . . and I need to figure out what to wear.

Two Hundred

I both can and can't believe that I have two hundred post's worth of words, thoughts, drama, and ideas in my head. Here are some more:

While driving to work, I began to think about tattoos. You know, a tattoo for me. I am neither for nor against such thing, but that very ambivalence is what has made me say no way in the past. What I know: it would have to have loads of meaning and significance to be etched on my body forever, it would need to be either wildly colorful or the color of one of my freckles (brown), the husband would have to be agreeable (only because of the value I place on respect and harmony), and it would have to be somewhere that is easily covered up (with the exception of perhaps a bracelet or a ring and keeping in mind that I wear bikini suits). I had an idea for a very private, meaningful tattoo this morning and though I liked it, I'm still not comfortable with my idea, so I've decided to let it roll around in my head somewhere. It's bittersweet and perhaps too challenging to the gods. Let it be (I say to myself). I'm only mildly concerned that I tend to get in a mindset at times and do these [wild?! crazy?!] things.

At work, we had a patient come in and ask if anyone was interested in roller derby. I'm beyond interested, I'm am panting at a chance to take out my aggression in public. That sounded bad. Dressing a little trampy and throwing down with a bunch of girls on skates sounds like a good time to me though. I love the idea of roller derby and I will be attending the show this season. I also happen to know that try-outs are every January. The patient had broken something preparing for try-outs. No worried, her daughter made it (how cool is that?!). I'm a scrapper, so now all I have to do is become a good skater. Who sells roller skates anymore?

So, counting on the fact that some part of my reproductive system hates me, I should be able to wrap up my master's degree late next year, just in time to try-out for roller derby. Provided, you know, I'm not pregnant. Personally, I'm all for starting a pool for the timing of three wives' pregnancies. Mostly because I think everyone will bet on me as first up in a show of support and I'll bet me last because I'm no dummy. Just kidding . . . mostly. Anyway, we're on to Part Two of the white pills and Part One of lets-check-the-boy-parts-out. Should be a roller coaster, as always.

What I See

I'm sure that everyone thinks I'm calm, cool, and collected and I very much am . . . not. I make serious efforts to not be jealous, bitter, or flippantly catty. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't. All I can do at this point is to keep pushing forward and hoping for a miracle. And let me tell you what, the hope part is oh so painful when disappointed.

I used to freak out, even while engaged, that because I couldn't picture myself in the dress, with the guy, standing in front of the church to be married that it wasn't going to happen. It did and everything went as smoothly as can be expected. During that time I could actively plan the wedding though. I can't plan the rest of our lives. We don't know what will happen or when it will happen. I mentioned to the therapist that there was no way I would have thrown away any positive pregnancy tests had I of known how long it would be before I would see another one. What can I picture? If I squint really hard, I can see (in my imagination because real life is not so forthcoming) a positive pregnancy test. Even my imagination can't alleviate the fear this brings along with it. I can see hysterically telling C that we're in for another bumpy ride and I can see calling the dr's office and demanding a sonogram at the earliest time available. That's all. Telling friends and family is obviously absent, as is any picture of a live healthy baby. I am more than ready for a damn miracle, is anyone else?