Friday, January 26, 2007

Better day

I seem to have emerged, at least a little, from the crappy funk that I have been in. I actually got some sleep last night, so that may have helped, at least on a mental note. Still feel fair to lousy on the physical side, but after going through almost half a sleeve of crackers this morning, the nasty nausea has dissipated. For a while.

Otherwise, things are going OK. Son was actually chipper yesterday when we went to pick him up. I left work early because it had been a horrible day, with me spending most of the day on the point of tears, or in the bathroom crying. Don't know what had possession of me, but I hope that it stays away for a while. Anyway, I was also falling asleep at my desk for most of the afternoon, and I decided that this was stupid-why am I doing this? There wasn't anything horribly pressing, so no big deal. I did do myself one favor-I put the email to my boss that I wrote detailing the extreme level of frustration with some things that are going on in the Draft folder, where it may languish for a while. I need to talk to him about this stuff, but I don't know when. I know that it was the wrong day that day, since I probably would have ended up screeching at him or bawling. I pride myself on being a low-maintenance employee, but that can be pushed too far. I just knew that, even through the emotional fog, that this wasn't the right time.

So, I went home, and Husband was home too. We went together to get Son. I think that Husband figured it out that Son's antics were really bothering me. While we didn't get a running, "Da-Da" out of him, he was smiling and talking as we corralled him to get on his coat and get out into the car. He even was perky after we had to wake him up by taking him out of the carseat when we stopped at the mall for a quick errand on our way home. I know that he wasn't doing all of this to hurt me, but there are just those days when it pushes you over the edge emotionally. I needed his smile to let me know that he didn't really hate me, and I got it. Nope, he doesn't have me completely wrapped.

Thursday, January 25, 2007

Toddler 1, Mommy Zip

Son is working on systematically destroying me right now. He really is. You look at him and you would think angel. All blonde and blue-eyed. He's being a toddler, and I need to understand that. However, being hormonally challenged right now, it all hurts.

Lately, he does nothing by scream at me. I try to get him dressed in the morning, he screams and cries like I am hurting him. I'm not rough, and I try to take it (within reason) at his pace. I get things thrown at me, clothes dumped on the floor. I know that he just wants to keep playing, but I'm desperately trying to get out the door in one piece. If I don't work, we don't have much. That plain and simple.

He alternates between screaming in the car during our 20 minute commute. I've tried giving him toys and books, but they just get chucked to the far reaches of the Je*p, and being 5'2", I can't reach them. So he screams. Refuses to even look at me in the rear view mirror.

We get to daycare. He starts crying, unless otherwise distracted, when I leave. Yep, feel horrible about that. I usually end up fighting tears on my way out, and sometimes I let them just come once I'm in the car. My work parking lot is just across the street, so I can usually pull myself back together before I go inside. I've really been struggling with having to leave him every day, and all of the old worries about leaving a small baby are on my mind too. It sucks to have no option of ever being able to stay home, if even for a little while. I'll never have that option, so I have to pay people to raise my children. Yep, up for the mom of the year award here.

And the kicker, the one that I'm really having a hard time with. When I pick him up at night, exhausted and feeling sick, what do I get? A child who throws a temper tantrum, throws himself to floor, screaming, because he doesn't want to go home with me. All of the other kids at least smile, and most run towards their parents when they come in. Not my kid. Runs away, and when forced to come to me, throws a fit that causes everyone to stop and look at me like I'm some sort of monster. It breaks my heart. On an intellectual level, I know that he is just so into playing that he doesn't want to stop. I know that. But with my reserves running so low lately, it crushes me to have to pick him up, still screaming, back bending to try to get away from me, and then have to try to put on a coat and get him out to the car. What am I going to do when he's too big to carry and I'm too big to be able to carry him? What then? The funny thing is, none of the other kids around him can understand what he's doing. One little girl that he used to be with in the infant room was so upset that he didn't come to me that she marched over, tried to pick him up, and kept pointing excitedly in my direction. He could have cared less. I did appreciate her efforts though.

If anything, I guess that I'm getting a taste of the teenage years. I was just hoping that I wouldn't have to feel that sense of loss before he was two. Hormones aren't helping either, but they are out of my control, and I'm sick of having to intellectualize everything. Damnit, why can't he just like me?

Monday, January 22, 2007

Just need to stop

I really need to learn to stop clicking on different blog rolls as I toodle around the blogsphere. I really need to. This issue is that there is a lot of cross-references in the blog world between infertility and loss, whether it be infant or pregnancy. It really is the nature of the beast I suppose. All three engender a loss of some sort. Infertility robs one of the dream of having children, pregnancy loss takes the hopefully realized dream of children and pulls out the rug, and infant loss, well, that's something that I can't even begin to fathom. How people survive it amazes me.

I came across one of those blogs today-a mom who had lost her son after a failed heart transplant. There were pictures of what looked like a happy little boy. She wrote very matter of factly, but the raw, unadulterated pain was still there. I could feel it seeping in, threatening to make me cry in that moment, causing me to wish to God that there was a way to reverse it all.

I was watching Miami I*nk last night, and one of the stories was about a dad who, after saying goodbye to his son, and who thought was clear of any danger, accidentally killed him as he left their driveway.

Why does this happen? Why are we given these gifts and then have to deal with the pain of having them ripped away? Before I had Son, I would still be sad when I came across these stories, but they wouldn't stay with me. Wouldn't make me want to run to daycare and grab Son and never let him go. I ended up trying to feed Son last night while sobbing at the very thought of what this man went through, and what he will go through for the rest of his life.

These things scare me so much. Who is to say that something won't happen to my blonde baby? Other than locking him up and putting him in a bubble, can I ever be sure that he is always going to be safe? How do I let go of this fear to let him live? I remember that as kindergartner, I would walk home over the lunch break to have lunch at home with my Mom, who was on maternity leave with my brother. The sum total was about three blocks. In this day and age, I don't think that I would be able to let Son out of my sight for that long. I just can't seem to trust that everything will be OK. How do I teach Son to take risks, be independent, when all I want to do is protect him? I'm worried about being that mother. I don't want it for him, but I find myself being so scared sometimes.

It is this near-paralyzing fear that makes me insistent that we find an alternative to our current housing situation. I just don't want to ever be that far away from him, with locks and gates being the only thing to protect him. He's just too damn little. For once, I'm going to have to insist, something I have never been able to get myself to do in all of the years that we have been married. Husband can be a force of nature. I just can't shake this concern that runs through my very core. I don't want my fear to paralyze Son, but I still want him to think before he makes choices. I want him to find a happy medium between my caution and his father's lack thereof. Husband thinks that he's bullet-proof. I can't convince him otherwise, and I get so full of anxiety and fear and powerlessness that I can barely breathe. This whole house debate has become a primary source of this anxiety.

We were visiting my grandfather this weekend. He hasn't seen Son since he was around a month old, so we thought it was time. He's in his mid-80s, but still lives by himself. He was watching Son play, and he said something about the fear that he had about the kind of world that Son will eventually live in. Looking around us, the world isn't moving in a more civilized, enlightened way. We're rapidly devolving, and instead of spears and clubs, we can wipe out all of humankind in one fell swoop. The Star Trekkian ideal is one that I honestly don't think that humans are capable of. We've experienced tragedies on grand scales, and for a while it always looks like we can be better for it, that we've learned something from it. For one generation it was Pearl Harbor/WWII. For my generation it will be 9/11. And what have we done with it? Invaded two countries (coalition or not, it's still an invasion), destabilized them even more than they already were, destroyed their infrastructure and maligned their culture and religion to the point of becoming mortal enemies. These people hate us. Rational or not, this is something that my Son will have to live with in his world. Families are separated for a year or more at a time, and separating them permanently at an alarming rate. I actually met the mother of the first Minnesotan to die in Iraq. She did the closing for when we bought our most recent car. I can't imagine how she got through each day. Her son wasn't a Guardsman, he was regular Army. However, how do you say goodbye to your living, breathing, 20something year old Son one day, and greet him coming home in a box. How?

So, all in all, I find myself being scared of what my Son will face. What my new child will face. How to make them safe and happy. And how to not go insane with worry. What can I do to make sure that they won't have to live in an insane world? I worry about my blonde boy, whose only concern right now is that he makes sure that all of his trucks and tractors are lined up on the coffee table. I worry about this yet to be seen child, and hope that I can maintain some sense of innocence, for even a small period of time.

Friday, January 19, 2007


Gah...I nominate myself for the worst mom of the week award. I've been so immersed in dealing with this new pregnancy, that I think that I left my brain somewhere else. It's not even that I've been THAT sick-just enough to be irritating and make me think twice about what I'll try to get down. Other than the club crackers, I've found that plain Pringles (tm) seem to do the trick. Strange, I know, but they just really work right now.

As for the worst mom of the week award, I think that I'm pretty deserving. My poor little boy. He has been cranky and just off for the past couple of days. He's sleeping fine at night, but had been waking up a little earlier than normal. He has also raised the whining over the littlest things to new and terrifying heights. Being a bit more into myself than I should be, I chalked it up to him (a) just being a toddler and (b) dealing with some changes at daycare. His best buddy has moved over to the toddler room, and I know that he misses her.

He was being less than charming this morning as I'm trying to coral him to get dressed. He wanted to be everywhere but on the changing table. We're running late, again, so my patience is already running at a very low ebb. I finally just give up trying to talk him into it, and just pick him up and deposit him on the changing table. He starts screaming and doing the "backbend of death." This works for me, since he is now laying down and I can get his pajama bottoms off. (Evil laugh...I've outsmarted a toddler...he he.) He is flat out crying by now, and I'm about ready to myself. Where is my sweet little boy? Finally, in the midst of a wail, I see the culprits. His top two eye teeth/canines have both just broke through. They're pointy little vampire versions of them too. Poor kid, his mouth has to be killing him. His bottom two are on their way through as well, but they are taking their time. So, in sum, he is actively cutting four teeth. Dumb, dumb, dumb. Damn tooth fairy is the one that stole my boy.

Of course, after discovering this, I feel awful for being so short with him. I get a new diaper on, pants, and socks, and then just pick him up. He snuggled into my shoulder while I just stood and rocked him. My baby. He calms down enough so I can put on his shirt. I pull out the Motrin (tm) and load up the syringe. He was actually excited about it. He grabbed at the syringe to get me to get on with it already and give it to me. By the time we hit daycare, he was happy, babbling away, and tearing at his coat so he could get down and play.

So, my fears about not paying enough attention are brought to fruition. I feel so bad about this. He was really cranky last night, with every little thing setting him off. I should have known. I'm tempted to take off a little early today and go and do something fun, but he's been spending his afternoons in the toddler room, and he enjoys it a lot, so I don't want to mess with that. I'll have to find another way to deal with my guilt. My little man deserves so much better.

Thursday, January 18, 2007

I (heart) Club(tm) Crackers!

Hey, don't be surprised by the (tm) part. I am an intellectual property attorney after all. What I know about trademark is minimal, but dangerous!

As you can probably tell, today has been a much better day. This morning, before even trying to become vertical, I prevailed upon Husband to get me some crackers. I could feel the nastiness at the back of my throat, so I was hoping that this might do the trick. Good little crackers! I made it through the rest of the morning with nary a thought of a dry heave. Better to say the least.

I'm still struggling with food in general, and probably will be until I get clear of the first trimester. I had great aspirations for lunch (lettuce salad w/chicken and raspberry vinnagrete), but I was only able to get down about half of it. Our cafeteria really isn't the best, and it just doesn't give a whole lot of options. I just need to get my act together, unearth my lunchbox from the basement, and start packing the lunches that I'm going to have to get used to when my good friend gestational diabetes shows up. It also helps with keeping the weight gain down and my sugars in a good place. I don't plan on starting to test until I fail the one hour test miserably, but being proactive on the diet front can't hurt. Husband has been kind enough to start planning meals with that in mind as well. Last time around, the only time the docs ever got on my case about the weight is when I started losing weight and throwing a lot of keytones. As long as I didn't go nuts, a pound or two gained here or there wasn't a big deal. I end up paying more attention to my weight while I'm pregnant that when I'm not!

I should probably go and try to be productive until I hit that mid-afternoon wall where all I want to do is hide in our file room, turn off the lights, and take a nap. Oh, and I need to find another candycane-things are feeling a little squishy again. I have a feeling that this will probably be the trend-hit and miss. As long as I don't have a lot of repeats of yesterday, things will be OK.

Wednesday, January 17, 2007


Hormones. Gotta love the hormones. From my perspective at this point, weapons of mass destruction. Today has not been good. For some reason I have just been "off" all day. I know that those pesky hormones are at the heart of it all, but it doesn't help me feel any better. I know that it is just a matter of bucking up and getting through it. However, being a control freak of sorts, not having a firm grasp on much of anything is not working for me.

The day started off alright. I only hit the snooze once (hooray me), even though the urge to stay in the comfortable position that I had found at the perfect temperature was a strong pull. My feet hit the ground, I grab what I need to get going in the bathroom, and then it hit. The hard swallow. Oh boy. Water, I'll grab some water, THAT will make me feel better. I go to the kitchen and get a glass of water out of the refrigerator, and my lovely progesterone. Shuffle back to the bathroom, hoping and praying that Son doesn't hear me wandering around on our perpetually creaking hardwoods.

The water? Not such a good idea. So, as of today, I've had my first official bout with morning sickness. I had to make a quick decision; toilet (stinky, maybe make me feel worse) or sink (way closer, and a much larger target). Sink it is! This isn't just morning sickness, since it has continued on all day long thus far. I know that my whining will fall on deaf ears. Lots and lots of people go through this. I was spoiled last time with Son, because all it would take was a saltine or two and some water to make it all go away. I have a feeling that I won't be that lucky this time. Yuck.

After that little adventure, I managed to get us out the door, but Son was being, well, a toddler so everything took three times as long as normal. I hate doing this alone all of the time. Its enough to make me doubt how I will be able to pull this off with another one in tow. My stomach had finally settled enough that I could stop strategizing how to avoid the upholstery in the Jeep if things head south. I then start crying on the drive to work. Just was so sad. Sad that I had to leave Son with daycare, when all I wanted to do was hold him all day long and read stories and build block towers for him to knock down. Why this hit me, I'm not too sure. Yesterday wasn't a good day for him; when I dropped him off, all he did was scream and cry. That kid can kick out some serious big, perfect tears. I know that I'm worried about how he is going to adjust to everything that is going to be happening in the next year. I feel like I have this finite period of time to make sure that he understands (as well as any 16 month old can) that is loved so much that it hurts. That how we feel about him won't change. I'm just worried. Its hard to go from center of the universe to having share that space.

I just can't dig myself out of this pit today, and I know that its not all me, its those damn molecules racing around my system. The same sneaky bastards that are making anything that looks like, smells like, or even resembles food to be utterly repugnant right now. I tried to get down some tater tots for lunch. Should be innocent, right? Note to self: they need to change the oil in fryer in the cafeteria.

Oh, and to top it off? One of the pairs of pants that I hoped would let me make it for another 4-6 weeks are already snug. F*ck. Here I was all smug that I could avoid maternity wear for another month or two. When will I learn??

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

The timing of it all

After a rather perky Saturday, things have slid downhill. On Sunday, it became clear that I have finally succumbed to Son's cold, you know, the one that he has been fighting for almost two weeks now. Just one side of my face feels like it is going to explode due to it being stuffed up, so I guess that is a bonus. So, instead of happily romping through the snow yesterday, we spent it inside, trading off on who was wiping their nose. Lovely. On the upside, Son no longer is sporting that lovely green snot that always worries me. Hopefully, he is on his way out of this.

So, in conjunction with the cold, which will usually put me under the table for a couple of days under normal circumstances, the fatigue has begun to hit, full force. If this is consistent with what I went through with Son, I should be reaching full Zombie within a couple of weeks. However, if this is the trade off for avoiding the worst of the morning sickness, I'll take it. The irritating thing is that when I wake up for my more and more regular bathroom runs at night, its taking me an hour to go back to sleep. Add that to what I think was a small anxiety attack last night (I can't seem to turn my damn brain off some nights), it wasn't horribly restful. It's only 9:30 AM right now, and I could happily crawl back into bed. I've just got to gut it out until 5:00....

Other than that, I managed to schedule a few baby related appointments yesterday, so I can say that I was a little productive. I've got my last (!) appointment with my RE on the 29th for the viability ultrasound, and, pending a good result there, my first real OB appointment the following Monday with my regular OB. It's Dr. Wonderful, so I'm happy that I was able to get in with him. I know that I'll be subject to the doctor roulette wheel after this, but since I've been through quite a bit with Dr. Wonderful, I wanted to see him first.

Well, off to start wearing out the new carpet between my office and the restroom!

Sunday, January 14, 2007

Weekend Fun

Well, the first on our fun list is that after finally getting one measly snowfall on New Year's Eve, it appears that we are in line to get 4-6 very fluffy inches, plus two more tomorrow. Hooray! We've already got enough that Husband is out with the snowblower as we speak. However, I don't know how much good it will do. However, he likes his big toys, so more power.

I have tomorrow off, and I was thinking about taking Son to daycare and getting some things done around here. However, with the snow, I think that we may stay home and goof of outside with the dogs. Our lab loves it, and even Black dog was being all frisky when we let them out tonight. Plus, I don't feel like driving in this tomorrow.

The other, VERY interesting even was that....drumroll please.....We looked at a house on Saturday afternoon. At Husband's suggestion. Husband had a fundraising event for the service club that he is a member of on Saturday afternoon. Since Son was born and he started the new job over a half hour away, he really hasn't done much with them. The new president is a neighbor, and he prevailed upon him to go and help out.

Anyway, one of the members is a general contractor/builder. Last year he built a house for one of his subs, but the deal fell through when the sub couldn't sell his existing house. The housing situation has been pretty lousy for the past year or so. Somehow it came up that Mr. Contractor still was carrying the house, almost nine months later. Since the fundraiser wasn't going so well, Husband wanted to leave early and needed me to come and pick him up (it was in a town about 15 miles from home). He causally mentioned that he thought we should see this house. I tried to sound interested, but not with the hallejula!!! enthusiasm that I was feeling. I packed up Son, and off we went.

It's a five bedroom, four bath, on five acres. Mr. Contractor is willing to knock almost $100k off of what it is currently listed at. I have admit, I liked it. Three bedrooms upstairs, with a master suite, and a separate full bathroom for the other two bedrooms. Solid surface countertops, stainless steel, and a nice great room type of layout. Of course, it didn't hurt that Son was running all over and looked like he was really enjoying himself. While I really liked it, and have, ahem, decorated it in my head already, there are some down sides. Like the fact that it would add 20 minutes on to my commute, that even at the severely reduced cost, it is still $100k over what I think that our budget can comfortably handle.

So, in the end, while this one may not end up as ours, it goes to show that Husband is thinking about it. This is the most open that he has been about this whole issue, and it makes me somewhat hopeful that we will end up doing what I really believe that we need to do. I have a feeling that as time goes by, he will continue to come around. Let's just hope that it's before September!

Thursday, January 11, 2007


I ended up staying home with a sick little boy today. However, I was able to make it up to get my second HCG. They called early this afternoon, and I think that that told me that the level was over 1,000. I got the green light for an OB ultrasound in 2-3 weeks.

I'm scheduled for our first ultrasound on the 29th. To quote Dr. Sam Beckett...."oh boy."

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

Still not quite there

First off, thank you for all of your warm comments regarding my announcement. It's always good to know that (a) someone actually reads this once in a while and (2) that someone cares.

Second, I'm out in New England right now on the last day of a business trip. It's been somewhat productive, so I think that I can justify the trip. We have two meetings today that will take most of the day until we have to leave for the oh-so-fun trip back to Logan to fly home. The added bonus?? We get to go through the portion of the Big Dig that was kind enough to drop concrete on commuters on our way back to the airport. At least the company offers accidental death coverage......

As for baby news, I'm not sure if it has sunk in yet. Honestly, the only time that I am really reminded of this is when I have to face the progesterone, and when we went out for dinner. Raw fish was on the agenda the first night (yuck) and even though I was able to find a cooked seafood ravioli, it still wasn't that great. So, food aversions? Check. I'm having vague periods of feeling a little sick, usually mid-afternoon, but I managed to pack a couple of candy canes off of our now disassembled Christmas tree, and that seems to help. So far, I have been able to avoid the whole gagging while brushing my teeth routine, but it's still sooooo early, I still may have to face it eventually. I'm also crampy, mainly at night. I know that things are going on "down there."

I was talking to Husband about this last night, and he still hasn't digested the whole thing either. To some degree, it's almost like this was an unplanned, surprise pregnancy. We really didn't have our heads wrapped around the possibility that this would work the first time. As Husband said prior to the positive, "...You know, be like regular people." Even though at some level I pretty much knew that this might be it. Sort of like I did with Son. I knew that everything seemed to be falling into place. However, when I heard the news, I just didn't believe. I probably should restate that. I'm a scientific type (gee a patent attorney), so I knew that an hcg of 89 was positive. Duh.

However, I am still having a hard time believing that by mid-September I'll be back to the breastfeeding, exhausted, routine, with the addition of a toddler. Please don't take this to mean that I don't want this; far from it. I can feel how real this is. I'm sporting inflation devices on my chest, I can feel the stretching and pulling down low. It just feels so surreal. Maybe it is just that we had to wait for so long for Son; that I had over four years to try to prepare myself mentally for what it would be like to be pregnant, how we would handle it.

This time, I didn't get that sort of prep time. Not that I wanted to have to wait that long again. Far from it. However, I was still in the mode of looking at Son as the baby. He stopped being a baby the moment that those little feet of his starting moving across my living room floor. He is a full blown toddler. He's pushing boundaries, and the little stinker is a problem solving machine. We have been so completely focused on him that it is difficult to imagine that we will shift that focus to be shared with someone else. If it weren't for the fact that I want to unbutton my jeans right now, I wouldn't believe that I have a passenger on board.

I know that I will get a handle on this. I know that I will embrace this pregnancy as much as I did Son's. I'm also looking forward to doing all of the things that I did with some, along with the other things that I had wanted to do that I didn't. I know that the ultimate moment will be when I see Son meet his new sibling. I can't wait to see that curious look on his face, and see him peak over the blanket to see the newest arrival. Oh, and this time I'll remember to comb my hair before picture time.

Friday, January 05, 2007


I'm not sure what to say.....'s positive, hCG of 89....

They wanted another draw on Monday, but since my flight leaves very early on Monday morning, I'll have to wait until Thursday. Guess I'll pack the last of the POS of the pack I bought.


Not happy....

I've been uptight, nervous, nauseous all day. While I'm getting things done today at work (surprising in and of itself), I'm getting cranky about the lack of anything from my RE's office. That's one negative change that I have noticed since I've been back to the practice. They are really pretty lousy about returning phone calls.

I finally caved and called at 2:30 to just get it over with. I talked to the nice receptionist, who transferred me over to the nurse's line. Big surprise, no answer. I left a message, but we'll see where that gets me.

I can't take much more of this. I have to get things together so I can travel for three days next week, and this distraction isn't helping. It also is pushing back my early departure to go do some retail therapy and still be able to get home to pick up for our friends....

Oops, there's my phone....

Thursday, January 04, 2007

Just like the weather

We haven't seen the sun in what feels like forever. I know that its only been three or so days, but its gray, the snow is melting, and everything just feels dirty and dead. My mood has been about the same for the past couple of days. Tired, weepy, grumpy.

I haven't been sleeping very well for about the past week, and I don't think that is helping. I've been dreaming non-stop, and they aren't even remotely interesting. Obviously I need to deal with something, but it isn't evident from what my brain is trying to tell me. I keep waking up in some contorted position, with a sore neck and back, trying to get comfortable, and wake up again an hour later.

I know that I'm wound up about this cycle, and I'm mad at myself that I let myself get this invested in it. I'll go for the bloodwork tomorrow, but I can already hear the sad little voice of the nurse telling me the bad news. I went into this with low expectations, and I don't know why I couldn't just stick with them. And why, even after all that we went through to have Son, do I retain this tiny bit of hope that maybe I don't know everything after all, and tomorrow will be a day to celebrate? I would think that it would have been beaten out of my pessimistic soul a long time ago. Why do I do this to myself?

I've tried to prep Husband for the failure, but, as usual, I don't think that he is really listening to me. Although, I have to say, that is a recurring theme in my life. I can't get the dog to listen to me and get out of the deer poo in the back yard and Black Dog, please don't chase the squirrels up that neighbor's tree! Son, go to your room so we can change you diaper. Son, now!

All of this pent up frustration, on top of a job that I am slowly beginning to loathe, is making me bitchy, depressed, and I can cry for you at the drop of the hat. Really. Wanna see? Oh, and don't forget the balloon factor from the progesterone...Pants are snug, boobs are huge, and I hate everything I own in the clothing department. The only person that likes any of these side effects is Husband, and if he tries to grab me one more time....We may not have to worry about fertility issues anymore....

So, yes, I am Miss Mary Sunshine today.

Wednesday, January 03, 2007

Christmas doings...

Christmas was, well, Christmas. As I had predicted earlier, I never really got the house in the type of condition that I wanted (it only resulted in a laundry basket of junk moving into our bedroom, so I guess that's a positive). I never got to bake cookies, although I did take my time buying some at Rainbow. Sigh. Oh well.

The bauble pictured at left was my big present. I have a pair of topaz earrings that my parents gave me for Christmas a few years ago, and I wear them a lot during the spring and summer. However, the topaz in the earrings is almost a turquoise, not the normal sky blue. I haven't been able to find anything that would work with them as far as a pendant because of the different color (which is also why I love them so much.) Anyway, Husband stole one of my earrings out of my jewelry box, and finally found this pendant with a topaz that matches exactly. Good job dear!

We opened gifts on the 23rd, which went OK. Husband made the dinner, and, as usual, didn't let me do anything but get yelled at. We ended up putting two turkey breasts on the rotissiere on our big gas grill, and they turned out perfect. However, in the process of skewering the damn thing, one of the forks that holds things on the rod broke, so we are down to three tines on one of them. For once, we were able to time just about everything right so it was all warm and on the table. With our relatively small kitchen, it can be a challenge. We also ended up with enough leftovers to eat off of for a week.

Son wasn't so much into opening the presents as I thought he would be. Ripping paper lost its appeal after about gift 1 1/2. The funny thing was, he took the new toy, and played with it very quietly while the rest of us opened our presents. First it was with a set of small trucks that I had got for him, and then with a shape sorter and the associated blocks. He set up camp by Husband and played with them on the coffee table for a good 30 minutes without a peep. On the one hand, I am happy that he liked them and wasn't melting down, but on the other, I wish that he would have been more engaged in the whole thing. Next year he'll be a little over 2, so he should get into it more.

The goal for gifts from us to Son was that no batteries would be required. So many of the toys out there are so noisy, and overstimulating. Even the educational stuff tends to push kids into sensory overload. The only thing that we got him that needed a battery was the big cushy fire truck that sounds like it is idling if you push on the bumper. He also got a huge stack of books. I'm a little leery of letting him at the non-board books yet, since he is still in that ripping stage (just books and Kleenex right now, but forget about wrapping paper...). My SIL got him a set of board books hat have sliding panels (also made out of board) that he really likes.

Son was also really good at Christmas Eve mass, which sort of surprised me. We ended up going to the 5 o'clock mass, since Midnight Mass, as cool as it is, just wasn't in the cards. He sat on Husband's lap most of the time, looked at a couple of books, and ate some puffs. He did alternate back and forth between the two of us, but no whining, no squirming to get down, no screaming. Which was better than about half of the other kids there that were his age. It also helped that the two women sitting behind us were playing with him a bit too. He would grin, they would smile back. I'll take happy toddler any day of the week!

Other than that, nothing too remarkable. I would like to say that it was beautiful, etc., but we made it without my mom and Husband sniping at each other, no tantrums from a little boy (who slept really well despite the schedule mess-ups), and we were all safe. I don't think that we can, or should, ask for more than that.

Tuesday, January 02, 2007

Two Weeks...It really isn't that long...Right??

After the semi-goodness of 11 days off, here I am, back at work, back on a computer that won't have a snoopy Husband as the majority possessor. Does he know about the blog? Sorta. Do I ever want him to read it? Probably not. But I digress.

After our trigger, I went in for two rather non-eventful IUIs, on the 23rd and 24th. It was strange-there was no one at my RE's office. It felt a bit creepy for some reason. Lots of empty rooms, and just me and the receptionist in the waiting room. Fortunately, we were able to get Husband's schedule to work so he could provide his part of the equation so I could get in before everyone headed out for the break. His counts weren't spectacular, but well within normal. As the nurse said, it only takes one.

So, I get the hCG draw on Friday. I really don't know what to think. The thing that sucks about early pregnancy symptoms is that they really are pretty much identical to any PMS symptoms that one may have. Plus, since this is possibly my second time around, things will probably be different than with Son. The other part that makes it tough to discern anything different is the progesterone. I know that this stuff can make you tired, but so can pending BFP. I've been exhausted the past week or so, but what does that mean? Progesterone can also make the boobs inflate, which has happened. Since I weaned not that long ago, I still don't know what size I really am, post-nursing. Due to the drugs, however, I'm back in my pregnancy bras. Oh, and after a longish warm shower, I actually leaked a little. What gives? I haven't nursed since mid-October! What the hell does that mean?

Oh, and the last kicker. I'm not much of a dreamer. Meaning, I don't have dreams that are clearly focused on me resolving some issue that I am dealing with in my awake state. A couple of days ago, I had one where I had been subjected to tests, and I could see the printout of my results, but I couldn't actually read the words, they were all fuzzy. Being ever analytical (yes, even my dreams are boring), I decided that the longer fuzzy results said positive, and the shorter said something like null. There were around 10 lines worth. And the results were a 50/50 split. I can't even get cut a break in my dreams. This must be bothering me more than I'm consciencely aware of, because I haven't been sleeping real well in general. Lots of waking up and tossing and turning.

So, I'm on the hook until Friday. I'm a little scared of the result, either way. We have friends coming up that day to stay the weekend, so regardless, I probably won't get much of a chance to process much. They leave Sunday morning, Husband works 3-11 Sunday night, and I get on a plane for the East Coast on Monday morning. So, I will keep dragging my tired, big-boobed, highly emotional self to work each morning until 7:40 AM on Friday.

Just have to keep chanting...Its just a test cycle, its just a test cycle......