The three TTC amigos: one is taking a TTC break (you'll be back on the train again, soon, B #1!), one is KTFU (wooooohoooooo!!! B#2!!), and one is me.
Of the original 8 or so who would attend the FJHH (Fertility Juice Happy Hours @ Chuy's), let's see...there's me....and....uhhhhh.......
::::drunken singing commences::::
Allll byyyyyy MYYYYYYselffffff, don'twannabe ALLLLLL BYYYYYY MYYYYYYYYYselfffffff
:::::lighter and beer in the air, y'all:::::
Friday, October 10, 2008
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Just Because
Just because I didn't want the sadness post at the top anymore.
I'm not excited yet. I'm not hopeful yet. Those will come in a couple of weeks.
But I'm not sad anymore. Sometime between then and now, it slipped away.
Now I'm just waiting, in limbo between the low and the high.
And that is not the greatest place to be, but definitely not the worst. It's a blessing to continue to play the game this month, and I don't want to waste any time taking that for granted.
CD6.
I'm not excited yet. I'm not hopeful yet. Those will come in a couple of weeks.
But I'm not sad anymore. Sometime between then and now, it slipped away.
Now I'm just waiting, in limbo between the low and the high.
And that is not the greatest place to be, but definitely not the worst. It's a blessing to continue to play the game this month, and I don't want to waste any time taking that for granted.
CD6.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
My Sadness Sits
Yesterday, Sadness walked into my office and sat. He came in quietly, so quietly that I didn't notice him at first. He just sat in the guest chair and waited. Waited for me to notice him. Waited for me to feel the weight he brings to my heart. Waited for me to realize I hadn't smiled in hours. Waited for me to acknowledge him. He didn't say anything. He just sat, keeping me company.
Anger, his cousin, is the talker. Anger is the one who bursts into a room and demands attention. Anger is the one who gives the passionate speeches that get you so riled up that you can't help but be swept away with his rhetoric and vision and righteous indignation. Anger visited me last cycle. Luckily he stayed away this time. But Sadness showed up instead, and I'm not sure which is worse.
It was Sadness who kept me from responding to posts I should have responded to. He laid his heavy hand on mine and kept me from hitting "send." It was Sadness, wrapping himself slowly, insidiously around my heart like an anaconda, like Rasputin, a trusted friend who betrays you so seamlessly you don't even realize what's happened until you are staring at the world from the bottom of a pit, a prison built by Sadness.
By the end of the work day, Sadness had slid from his seat in my office to roost on the edges of my soul, of my mind, a quiet creeping weight I no longer cared about by the time I noticed. He came home with me, sitting on my shoulders and hanging from my cheeks, too heavy to shrug or smile away.
By evening, Sadness had spread to fill every part of me left empty by Joy, Joy who didn't show up three days ago as hoped. And it was comforting, not having that empty space. Sadness comforted me, made me feel whole again, like there is nothing I am waiting for, nothing I am missing. Sadness filled me with a satisfying weight, like a heavy quilt, and I wrapped myself around him and wrapped him around me and though the cost of that comfort was tears, the slow, quiet tears were worth the ability to stop pretending like I was fine, like I was strong, like I can just keep going like a bad death scene in a movie where the doomed character is shot but keeps stumbling forward as if nothing had happened.
Sadness sat with me when I lay down in bed. Sadness covered me. Sadness sighed so slowly it may have been my own breath. But he could not follow me to sleep. He is not yet strong enough to hold on when I fall into that other world, the world where I am energetic and smiling and where all things are still possible in the blink of an eye.
And this morning, he had retreated. He had pulled back from the far reaches of my mind. He still sits, heavily, silently, watchful in my heart, but eventually he will slip out as silently as he arrived.
And I will notice with quiet pleasure his absence. And I will smile.
Anger, his cousin, is the talker. Anger is the one who bursts into a room and demands attention. Anger is the one who gives the passionate speeches that get you so riled up that you can't help but be swept away with his rhetoric and vision and righteous indignation. Anger visited me last cycle. Luckily he stayed away this time. But Sadness showed up instead, and I'm not sure which is worse.
It was Sadness who kept me from responding to posts I should have responded to. He laid his heavy hand on mine and kept me from hitting "send." It was Sadness, wrapping himself slowly, insidiously around my heart like an anaconda, like Rasputin, a trusted friend who betrays you so seamlessly you don't even realize what's happened until you are staring at the world from the bottom of a pit, a prison built by Sadness.
By the end of the work day, Sadness had slid from his seat in my office to roost on the edges of my soul, of my mind, a quiet creeping weight I no longer cared about by the time I noticed. He came home with me, sitting on my shoulders and hanging from my cheeks, too heavy to shrug or smile away.
By evening, Sadness had spread to fill every part of me left empty by Joy, Joy who didn't show up three days ago as hoped. And it was comforting, not having that empty space. Sadness comforted me, made me feel whole again, like there is nothing I am waiting for, nothing I am missing. Sadness filled me with a satisfying weight, like a heavy quilt, and I wrapped myself around him and wrapped him around me and though the cost of that comfort was tears, the slow, quiet tears were worth the ability to stop pretending like I was fine, like I was strong, like I can just keep going like a bad death scene in a movie where the doomed character is shot but keeps stumbling forward as if nothing had happened.
Sadness sat with me when I lay down in bed. Sadness covered me. Sadness sighed so slowly it may have been my own breath. But he could not follow me to sleep. He is not yet strong enough to hold on when I fall into that other world, the world where I am energetic and smiling and where all things are still possible in the blink of an eye.
And this morning, he had retreated. He had pulled back from the far reaches of my mind. He still sits, heavily, silently, watchful in my heart, but eventually he will slip out as silently as he arrived.
And I will notice with quiet pleasure his absence. And I will smile.
Monday, October 6, 2008
The Funny Thing About Phantom Symptoms
Phantom symptoms. The "pregnancy" symptoms you feel and use to justify convincing yourself that you are KU when in the 2ww.
Phantom symptoms, how I loathe and love thee. Loathe because I do actually use them to convince myself that I'm KU. And then I'm not. And that sucks. Because I was soo sure. Phantom symptoms are the salt rubbed in a wound I don't even know exists until I get that BFN. Love because, let's face it, for the seven days I feel them, I am living every second in the most exciting possible tension, deliriously planning my future with my sweet little cooing chubby bundle of soft baby awesomeness.
They are the only part of pregnancy I've gotten to experience yet. And they don't even exist. I'm not going to dwell on how sucktastic that is. Instead, let's look at why phantom symptoms are cracking me up today. Me, on CD3.
I just read a post about peanut butter slices. Kinda weird, right? But then someone responded about peanut butter slices dipped in chocolate and how good that sounded to them.
I considered it. I, the world's biggest chocolate-and-peanut-butter fan, who used to eat one dark chocolate kiss and one scoop of crunchy peanut butter together in one delicious bite.
And the idea made me want to throw up a little. WTF?? Peanut-butter slices dipped in chocolate doesn't sound appealing to me? The very thought makes me feel sick to my stomach? My immediate follow-up thought? ohmygod, maybe I'm pregnant! And then smiling, laughing at my own foolishness, at the idea of imagining pregnancy symptoms while on my period. I mean, if you can't laugh at yourself in this crazy, crazy process, who can you laugh at?
Phantom symptoms, how I love and loathe thee. Even on CD3.
Phantom symptoms, how I loathe and love thee. Loathe because I do actually use them to convince myself that I'm KU. And then I'm not. And that sucks. Because I was soo sure. Phantom symptoms are the salt rubbed in a wound I don't even know exists until I get that BFN. Love because, let's face it, for the seven days I feel them, I am living every second in the most exciting possible tension, deliriously planning my future with my sweet little cooing chubby bundle of soft baby awesomeness.
They are the only part of pregnancy I've gotten to experience yet. And they don't even exist. I'm not going to dwell on how sucktastic that is. Instead, let's look at why phantom symptoms are cracking me up today. Me, on CD3.
I just read a post about peanut butter slices. Kinda weird, right? But then someone responded about peanut butter slices dipped in chocolate and how good that sounded to them.
I considered it. I, the world's biggest chocolate-and-peanut-butter fan, who used to eat one dark chocolate kiss and one scoop of crunchy peanut butter together in one delicious bite.
And the idea made me want to throw up a little. WTF?? Peanut-butter slices dipped in chocolate doesn't sound appealing to me? The very thought makes me feel sick to my stomach? My immediate follow-up thought? ohmygod, maybe I'm pregnant! And then smiling, laughing at my own foolishness, at the idea of imagining pregnancy symptoms while on my period. I mean, if you can't laugh at yourself in this crazy, crazy process, who can you laugh at?
Phantom symptoms, how I love and loathe thee. Even on CD3.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Shrek is an Ass
Ooo, boy. Oktoberfest.
After finishing off nearly a 6-pack by myself after not having drank (drunk?) much lately, I had a fantastic time at our party last night (and am still the reigning beer pong champ) but am paying for it today. A pregnant friend told me recently her first-tri tiredness reminded her of the day after staying up late drinking. Unfortunately, I feel that way today NOT because I'm pregnant but because I did, in fact, stay up late drinking.
TH and I spent the day recuperating on our couch and trying to eat as much leftover party fare as possible. We watched a lot of football...and Shrek the Third. The basic plot line of Shrek III is that Fiona (his wife) is pregnant and Shrek freaks out because he doesn't think he's ready to be a dad.
What an ass.
I actually got up, disgusted. Here I am, with the greatest dad-to-be in the world, who wants nothing more than to have a little one to care for, and freaking Shrek is the one who gets the baby. Or, babies, as it turned out.
Apparently I'm not dealing with it all as well today as I was yesterday. Yesterday I had a party to plan, drinking to do, friends to hang out with. Today I just have two (or more) looong weeks of waiting for my body to gear up again so we can take another shot. Two (or more) weeks of irresponsible, undeserving cartoon dads pissing me off. I blame my teary eyes and hot frustration on my tiredness and dehydration.
Regardless, Shrek sucks.
After finishing off nearly a 6-pack by myself after not having drank (drunk?) much lately, I had a fantastic time at our party last night (and am still the reigning beer pong champ) but am paying for it today. A pregnant friend told me recently her first-tri tiredness reminded her of the day after staying up late drinking. Unfortunately, I feel that way today NOT because I'm pregnant but because I did, in fact, stay up late drinking.
TH and I spent the day recuperating on our couch and trying to eat as much leftover party fare as possible. We watched a lot of football...and Shrek the Third. The basic plot line of Shrek III is that Fiona (his wife) is pregnant and Shrek freaks out because he doesn't think he's ready to be a dad.
What an ass.
I actually got up, disgusted. Here I am, with the greatest dad-to-be in the world, who wants nothing more than to have a little one to care for, and freaking Shrek is the one who gets the baby. Or, babies, as it turned out.
Apparently I'm not dealing with it all as well today as I was yesterday. Yesterday I had a party to plan, drinking to do, friends to hang out with. Today I just have two (or more) looong weeks of waiting for my body to gear up again so we can take another shot. Two (or more) weeks of irresponsible, undeserving cartoon dads pissing me off. I blame my teary eyes and hot frustration on my tiredness and dehydration.
Regardless, Shrek sucks.
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Top 10 Reasons I'm OK
10. I get one more month of my life to just spend with DH and nobody else--lots of alone time, sleeping in, going out spontaneously, etc.
9. I will get one more paid week of maternity leave since my due date for future child will be after my 1-year anniversary with my company.
8. We have one more month of no car payments.
7. We have one more month of saving up for down payment on new car(s).
6. Chance of being able to go to S. America with TH in the spring has gone up.
5. I enjoyed the hell out of my Dr Pepper this morning.
4. The Super Target by my house is scheduled to open in May of next year, and I will for sure be able to register there now.
3. It feels good to relax about splurging on the party tonight and not to have to worry about saving every penny for baby.
2. I will be able to focus at work and actually get stuff done for at least another 2-3 weeks.
1. I can eat as many brats and black forest ham sandwiches and drink as many beers as I want to tonight!!
Onto cycle 4. Prost!
9. I will get one more paid week of maternity leave since my due date for future child will be after my 1-year anniversary with my company.
8. We have one more month of no car payments.
7. We have one more month of saving up for down payment on new car(s).
6. Chance of being able to go to S. America with TH in the spring has gone up.
5. I enjoyed the hell out of my Dr Pepper this morning.
4. The Super Target by my house is scheduled to open in May of next year, and I will for sure be able to register there now.
3. It feels good to relax about splurging on the party tonight and not to have to worry about saving every penny for baby.
2. I will be able to focus at work and actually get stuff done for at least another 2-3 weeks.
1. I can eat as many brats and black forest ham sandwiches and drink as many beers as I want to tonight!!
Onto cycle 4. Prost!
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
The Spot
So, about three weeks ago TH held up his right pointer finger and showed me a large white spot on his nail.
TH: (with the tone of someone who just proved ice cream is actually healthy) Do you know what that is?
me: A calcium deposit?
TH: Well yeah, if you want to be all scientific about it!
He then went on to remind me that the Russians (or maybe just his family???) have a saying about those white spots on your nails. Roughly translated, when the white spot gets to the tip of the nail, something good happens.
TH: And this is the biggest one I've ever had! You know what that means, right?
me: You started taking your daily multivitamins???
TH: Nooo! It means when that spot gets to the tip of my nail, you'll be pregnant!
The rest of the month, at least once a day, TH would look at his finger nail, smile, and then reach over and rub my belly happily. His sweet, innocent, total belief in that old Russian superstition is so cute I just can't help but let myself believe in it just a little. He is totally confident in the portent of that white spot.
And the white spot is just about at the tip of his nail...
CD29, 9 DPO
TH: (with the tone of someone who just proved ice cream is actually healthy) Do you know what that is?
me: A calcium deposit?
TH: Well yeah, if you want to be all scientific about it!
He then went on to remind me that the Russians (or maybe just his family???) have a saying about those white spots on your nails. Roughly translated, when the white spot gets to the tip of the nail, something good happens.
TH: And this is the biggest one I've ever had! You know what that means, right?
me: You started taking your daily multivitamins???
TH: Nooo! It means when that spot gets to the tip of my nail, you'll be pregnant!
The rest of the month, at least once a day, TH would look at his finger nail, smile, and then reach over and rub my belly happily. His sweet, innocent, total belief in that old Russian superstition is so cute I just can't help but let myself believe in it just a little. He is totally confident in the portent of that white spot.
And the white spot is just about at the tip of his nail...
CD29, 9 DPO
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
